Sometimes, I sit here without a thought in my mind that I want to share. I go to my blog, click 'New Post' and just let the blank page sit there and stare at me. My brain finds this unacceptable and quickly comes up words to fill this space. Something is triggered, we'll call it the need-to-write-stuff-in-case-I-die-too-young part of my brain, and funny/happy thoughts fill my head. Like a lightning bolt, these thoughts whisk right through my arms and into my fingertips, released only by keystrokes on my computer. Now, if I could only figure out how to also trigger the need-to-clean and need-to-save-money parts of my brain, I'd be set.
Halloween is fast approaching. Mae announced that she wants to be a cat this year. Before she could change her mind to something that would cost me more money, I raced to the store and purchased a pair of cat ears and a tail.
Over the weekend, I needed to do some grocery shopping and Mae wanted to tag along. We made it through almost the entire store before she walked in front of me and I noticed that she was wearing her tail. No ears, no whiskers painted on...just a tail with her regular clothes. I suppose it could be worse, like the day she wore roller skates to Wal Mart and I didn't notice until we got there. Or the day she learned the f-word and spouted it proudly to every person that passed her in the store no matter how many times I scolded her (she was two years old; this wasn't recent). As I was born without the neeed-to-save-money part of my brain, I am quite sure that Mae was born without the I-get-embarrassed part of her brain. It just doesn't happen. Ever.
I feel like I don't report Kyler stories nearly as often as I write about Mae, but he is our sweet boy who always does (almost) everything that he's supposed to do, when he's supposed to do it, how it's supposed to be done and without complaint or worry. He's so honest that I trust his words more than my own thoughts. Just yesterday, he told me that he's worried that he has lost muscle mass since he didn't participate in football this year. With the wrestling season just around the corner, he decided he needs to do something to make up for it. I suggested that he could run a mile on the treadmill each night and do some push-ups and sit-ups. He took that in, thought about it for about three seconds, then hopped onto the treadmill for exactly one mile, followed by push-ups and sit-ups. See what I mean? He just does what's right all the time in a way that I am very unaccustomed to. You want me to run? Then I'll sit. You want me to work? I'll roll down a hill. Clean? Take a nap. I believe that everything that is requested of me is a form of reverse psychology, like people are trying to trick me into doing good and I won't stand for it unless it's on my own terms. And then I wonder why nothing ever seems to get done. Maybe if I was constantly ordered to take long naps, make large messes and embark on multiple vacations every year, I would counter those orders and be productive. Yeah, I'm sure that's what would happen.
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