Sunday I woke up with a horrible headache at 5:30.  It was so bad I was a bit nauseous.  Took drugs, crawled back into bed, hoped the next 45 min. would make it all better before I had to get up to get everyone around for church.  It did not.  Informed Tim I wasn’t sure I’d be making church that day and went back to sleep for 15 min.  At that point Ethan was by my side of the bed informing me that Caleb was lying on the floor in their room vomiting.  Oh goody.

So Caleb and I spent some “quality time” in front of the TV being pathetic most of the day; except that I did, of course, have the privilege of washing sheets, cleaning the floor, and cleaning a different spot on the floor and the couch later in the morning.  (Tim WAS a bit rushed getting out the door, or he would have done it.)  But yes, I mostly watched TV and kind of prayed for relief. or death. and that my nausea would be kept at bay while I dealt with the nastiness.

Well anyway, at one point my sweet baby crawled into my lap to snuggle and said, “Mommy, I want you to hold me forever…”  <cue melting of my heart, until he paused and said…> “until this commercial is over.”

Let’s say someone you know gets a huge kick out of singing along with Charlie Daniels and his band while they tell a strange but great story about a boy named Johnny beating the devil in a fiddling contest.  Maybe this person enjoys the ditty so much that she’s been able to sing every single word right along with Charlie since high school.  And let’s say that when it came on the radio today she was SO excited to hear it, because it had been a long time; but she still remembered every word.  Now let’s say that this same person, whom you MIGHT know, couldn’t finish singing said song because she got all choked up and teary-eyed in the middle of the chorus.  Choked up during “Devil Went Down To Georgia” y’all!!!  Come. ON!!!

Would you say that person was having some serious hormonal imbalances?

I would.

I had no intention of watching the 9/11 stuff on TV, or doing much of anything that would make me think too much about that day.  It may be an immature response, but right now I don’t especially feel like setting myself up to cry and be sad for the 10th year in a row about this.  My 91 year old grandfather passed only 10 days ago, and we just got back from his funeral on Wed.  I am still thinking about him, my grandmother, my mom, and the rest of us.  (More about Grandpa in another post.)  So I didn’t really want to cry some more.

I have not forgotten.  How could a person forget?  You don’t.  You add it to the list of things that answer the question: “Where were you when…?”  (“…the Challenger exploded?”  ”…the OKC bombing happened?”  ”…Kennedy was shot?” {if you’re old enough}  etc.)  I’ve talked to the kids about it today and everything.  I’m not trying to ignore the anniversary, just trying to mitigate the pain/ discomfort.

And then I saw on someone else’s blog a video of Alan Jackson singing “Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?”  I knew better.  But I watched it anyway.  Whoever wrote that song (Jackson, or someone else) captured so many of the emotions and responses people had that day and in the days following.  Such a good song, and beautifully written.  In case you’re wondering, I was “teaching a class full of innocent children;”  and yes, that line gets me every time.

So I’ve done it to myself, and I know it.  But I’ll tell you this: no matter how much I like the song, I am NOT going to look up and watch a video of Garth Brooks singing about how the world will not change him.

Maybe I’ll leave that for next April 19th.

Couldn’t find the silly cord-that-connects-the-camera-to-the-computer-for-picture-downloading…. for WEEKS.  (We have some serious organization needs here!)  But Tim found it last night.  So I had to (of course) put up a pic of the daddy lion — whatever you may choose to call him — since I didn’t have it available a few days ago.  Not the best picture ever, but there he is anyway.

Sweet little brother told me tonight that “Ethan is my best friend.”

And earlier in the week he was overheard telling Ethan, “You are the best big brother EVER.”

<sniff, sniff> Pardon me while I go blow my nose and wipe my eyes.

So in the interest of full disclosure I should probably mention that they just came up the stairs for bed– JUST NOW, after me bragging on them — crying and mad at each other.  So no, they are not angels.  But they typically are sweet brothers.