There's Always Poop

I'm still struggling with making sentences here, but our conversation in the car this morning at least prodded me to look at my notes of the things they've said and share them.

Over the Christmas break, prior to Luke's most recent hair cut, we were all in the master bathroom, getting ready to go somewhere and Dave was brushing Luke's hair.

Dave: You need a trim. You look like a hippie.
Ella: What's a hippie?
Me: Cool people.

You know - the kind that cut their own kid's hair and make their own laundry detergent and recycle.

Also over Christmas, it became obvious that I wasn't spending enough one-on-one time with Ella (because she told me so, and she was right). We worked out a plan that I would snuggle her at bedtime most nights so we could have a few minutes together to talk (And, it's working nicely. Her cup is getting refilled and it's showing in her attitude and willingness to follow instructions). As part of that plan, Dave has taken over putting Luke to bed. Some nights that means he stays with him until he falls asleep, and some nights that means Luke just waits for me to come check on them after I leave Ella's room. On one such night, I came into his dark room and crawled into to bed beside him. He wrapped his little boy arms around my neck and said, "Ahhh. You're so beautiful." I had never heard him use the word "beautiful" before then, and he was talking about me but it was dark, so he was obviously talking about all of me, not just my outside. It made me feel good, and it was a good reminder that even when I'm struggling, they need me and they love me.

Meeting everyone else's needs all the time takes a huge toll on me. Since cancer, I haven't shaken the feeling of being completely overwhelmed and exhausted. I just keep getting more overwhelmed. With the three members of my household expressing a need for my focused attention over the Christmas break, and my own level of exhaustion and realization that I haven't done a good job of focusing on anything in a long time, I came to the conclusion that I'm probably depressed. I decided to get help for that, and I'm also making a concerted effort to slow down the external demands on my time and enjoy my family more. That's going well, too. For the first time in a long time, I feel well connected to all of the members of my household, and I think they all agree.

That went a little deeper than I was planning, but now you know why this is only the second post of the year. Back to the cute children who say ridiculous and funny things.

For some reason, Luke became very worried about the squirrels bothering our cat, Gypsy. I'm not sure what set him off, but he was apparently afraid they would try to take over her bed because he told me: "I'm just gonna stand by her bed so I can PUNCH! the squirrels." The fat, lazy things will probably let that happen, judging by the rate of their cat food consumption.

Finally, this morning, on the way to drop Luke off at Grandmother's house, this conversation happened.
Ella: I smell poop.
---silence in the car---
Ella: Mama, do you smell poop?
Me: No, I don't.
Luke: I pooted.
Ella: No...it smells ...richer.
Luke: Mama, my pooter is richer.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what inspired me to write today. When all other channels of thought are interrupted or stifled or guarded, one can always find something to write about poop. The richer, the better.