kiwords

Okay, I've gotten myself into a situation here, where I have this list of things I need to tell you about before I can get back to blogging about whatever, and since it's more fun to blog about whatever, I never blog at all, which just makes my list longer. So let's just make this a quick catch-up session, shall we?

First, to those of you who wondered about Sophia's snipped little locks of hair, and if I just coldly swept them up and threw them away - DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME AT ALL? I don't SWEEP!

No, no, just kidding. I sweep, although these days I'm frequently interrupted by a tiny tyrant, shrieking, "NO SOPHIA SWEEP UP SOPHIA DO IT!" She snatches the broom out of my hand, I swear. I stand there and watch her, knocking everything in reach off the counter with the handle of the broom and carefully shoving floor dirt around with the other end, and wonder what it is that causes children to completely lose interest in chores once they can accomplish them successfully.

But that's not the point. The point is...

...of COURSE I saved a lock. The boys thought I was maybe being a little weird, and I informed them that I have a lock of each of their hair from their first haircut. Now they KNOW I'm weird.

Secondly, did you see where Lise wished me and Clay a happy anniversary in the comments? How cool is that? She remembered! Lise, you are my favorite.

Yes, Friday was our fifth anniversary, can you believe it? We went out for Indian food, then drove around looking for a Starbucks that had cupcakes. We failed on the cupcakes, but we had a lovely evening. Earlier in the week we'd gone together to the mechanic, so we could pick up my van, and the drive there we talked talked talked like someone had just taken the duct tape off our mouths. It was just so NICE to be together, and uninterrupted like that. At one point I sighed and said, "Wow. This is so great...it's like a DATE." And Clay squeezed my hand and said, "yeah, it sort of is. That is PATHETIC."

Pathetic, but true. So you can imagine how much we enjoyed hours together, especially with the addition of butter chicken. I told him I was going to write about how great a husband he is, and he said I was going to bore people if I persisted in talking about him, and I took that as sort of a challenge, so here we go:

Why Clay Is the Best Husband Ever.

One day, a few years ago, I was having...oy. I was having an evening. The kids were asleep, and I was sitting in bed, weeeeping and dissecting our life. Because somehow, just that evening, it had all come clear to me. From where I sat, surrounded by soggy tissues, I could clearly see all the dysfunction and brokenness in our world, and it was obvious to me that EVERYTHING WAS WRONG. In particular, I was certain that Clay's relationship with one of the boys was ALL WRONG, and it had to be fixed NOW, or said child was going to surely end up in prison for some sort of violent crime, and everyone knows about men in prison, how they only send Mother's Day cards, not Father's Day cards, which is obvious proof that any disruption in the father/son bond is a one-way ticket to prison and scary face tattoos and probably drug habits that include needles.

I mean, it was all so obvious to me.

And Clay sat next to me on the bed, helplessly patting me on the knee and handing me tissues. For something like TWO HOURS the man sat there in that torrent of words and tears and really truly heart-felt imaginings. And the reason I'm sure this was at least a few years ago is that it was back before I figured out that what I have is not simply PMS, but PMDD, which stands for Pre Menstrual Daaaang-you're-crazy Disorder.

And yes, the next morning I got my period, and the crystal-clear visions of doom and distruction just melted away, and I sheepishly approached Clay.

"Er...honey? About last night? Um...I just got my period. So...never mind."

And do you know what he said to me? He looked at me and said,

"Well, you were a little...emotional. But you had some good points too. Just because you were crying is no reason not to listen to you."

And THAT is why he is The Best Husband Ever.

Finally, we entered a new era around here on Monday. Because we apparently have just piles of cash sitting around, needing a new home, and we like to torture our children, we hauled Max off and delivered him to the wild and wonderful world of orthodontia. Now he's in all kinds of pain, and having to learn to chew again. He's having second thoughts about needing to have the sort of bite that fits together without causing jaw discomfort, because apparently no one informed him that braces sort of suck. I keep reassuring him that it will all be worth it, eventually. Besides...

...I think he looks adorable.