Random

Monday night I dreamt that my little brother was being tortured and potentially dismembered. I was very disturbed (of course) upon waking up, but can't remember any of the details. Unfortunately, I guess that's what happens when you watch 4 straight hours of "24"...

Adam watched some show called "Sharkboy and Lavagirl" the other day and is now obsessed with being Sharkboy. He drew his own fin on a scrap piece of thick posterboard and wanted to cut it out so he could wear it. I guess it turned out ok... good enough for our level of craftiness, anyway.

Yesterday Adam randomly informed me, "Did you know that some girls look like boys?" He then proceeded to give me an example of a girl who (to him) looked like a boy... I won't share those details here though.

Last night the LDS missionaries came over and we fed them dinner. Nothing fancy - I wasn't going to stress myself out over it. I had the salad in the fridge all ready to go and was rearranging a few things when the bowl (glass, of course) slipped and it shattered (along with the lettuce, spinach, cheese, bacon, etc) all over the fridge and kitchen floor. I held in some explitives (as bad as I get, anyway) and cleaned everything up, trying to keep Adam out of it. Finished mopping up the floor and went to finish the chicken dish.

Back to the fridge to work on the chicken dish: I was getting a container of sour cream out when... I dropped it. The container burst open and it splattered even further than the salad had, including the fridge and all the way up both legs of my new jeans. I even found sour cream on the backside, though I'm not sure how that happened. Can we blame this on pregnancy or just my own clumsiness?! So, I changed my pants, got on my hands and knees to clean up the mess, and mopped the floor again.

Adam was being a great helper and was mixing up the crumb topping for the chicken casserole. All of the ingredients were in a tight ziplock bag and he was doing a great job while I did a few dishes. He showed me his progress and I told him we were done and ready to put it on top. Next thing I know, "Uh, Mom, I think I shook it too hard." I turned around to find the floor, counters, and Adam all covered in a buttery, poppy-seedy, cracker-crumb mess. He apparently got a little too vigorous in his shaking and the ziplock popped open, splattering its contents everywhere. Of course it was an accident, and I'd already made two messes of my own by then, so I thanked him for helping me--reminding him to please be more careful--and sent him to the bathroom to clean himself up. I salvaged what I could of the crumb mixture off the (clean, of course) counter and cleaned up the floor...for the 3rd time now.

I don't retell this to complain, because it wasn't that big of a deal. I was just glad I didn't blow up at anyone (Adam) at any point and that I was blessed with the extra patience and humor that I really needed!

This morning Guy and I awoke to Adam asking, "Hey, can you help me fold my clothes?" Guy had to get ready for work, so I told Adam to give me a minute while I finished waking up. By the time I went to his bedroom, this (above) is what I found. There had been a pile of clothes on the floor waiting to be folded, and I guess Adam decided to finally take the initiative. His clothes were very neatly folded and in piles all over his bedroom floor. He's such a funny kid and I love it when he acts so adult and teaches me lessons. Like reminding me, "Mom, you need to be more patient." Something I tell him all the time and lately he's been telling me as well. ...And he's usually right; though I don't always let him know that. ;)