Clark has started telling Alice to stop looking at him.
"NOOOOOO ALICE! DON'T LOOK AT ME AND MY WAFFLES!" etc.
He loves her a lot, but sometimes he and his waffles and fork need privacy.
Lately I've been hiding from everyone, including Luke. Practicing being an introvert. Forcing myself to do stuff that would normally be fun for me but not really enjoying it, because it takes me away from... (shudder) housework.
I don't know why I sometimes go crazy and get hyper-focused on cleaning my house and stuff, but it has been that way. Clean clean clean. Huff huff huff. It's good and bad. My house is really picked up and my floors are shiny but I'm still unsatisfied. (Sorry, in my brain that song plays every time I say that word.)
I guess my house and vacuum and I need privacy?
I took a quiz on Facebook last week that told me I am Type A. (Where would we be without Dr. Facebook to scientifically analyze our lives via quizzes full of misspelled words that produce truths we did not know. Facebook is 2o09's therapist, yes?) I don't know if it's accurate or not. I am sort of kind of Type A. In my imagination, if I could make everything just the way I want it to be, I would be Type A. But I am also kind of ADD. And have been just slightly messy and klutzy my whole life. I spill stuff on my shirt and let my kids make messes and try really really hard but somehow read the directions wrong and end up with a very well executed but slightly off finished product.
Oh my my, the amazing things I turned in in High School and College and recieved Bs on, just because my brain didn't register that the project was specifically about authors from the 20th century or was supposed to be in blue ink and stapled exactly eleven times or whatever.
When I look at the faces of my kids, I know I was not the sole creator. I was not the Creator. I was just the vessel. They are perfect. There isn't a thing off. If someone was grading me, for the very first time in my life I think I would get an A+.
It blows my mind. I didn't read the directions wrong and somehow give birth to very technically beautiful paper dolls.
Thank you Lord.