Randoms on a Set-Your-Clock-Back-Sunday Morning.

Well. I woke up feeling super rested and thought for sure that I'd slept in late. I looked at the clock and realized that the 8am that I was feeling was officially 7am. So that was kind of cool. I tried to go back to sleep but couldn't. Which was probably for the better since my children were also awake.

Yep.

I have some things I want to write about but my brain feels a little too tired to tackle them just now. So how about some randoms in the interim? Don't mind if I do.

Okay. So this morning we were eating some french toast. And I was watching the boys and noted that they did two different things. Zachary cut his toast into pieces and then syruped it after they were all sufficiently separated. Isaiah stacked them on top of each other and syruped the top and middle layers. Then he cut each piece as he ate it. This means that when they finished or rather, got full, one plate had a few cut up pieces on the plate and the other had what looked like one eighth of a full piece of bread. Anyways. I know this is monumentally unimportant but I do wonder if there is some science behind how people attack food on their plates. Like what does it mean when people eat one item at a time? Or mix it all up? Or clean their plate? Or never, ever clean their plate?

Hmmm. I don't know.

I have this mental block to cleaning my plate. I always leave at least one or two bites on the plate. I'm not sure why. I also am like Isaiah and "cut as I go." Additionally, I almost always separate my pancakes and eat them one at a time. Which reminds me. On Friday I went to the gym and had a good workout. I was off that morning and after that workout felt myself craving pancakes. I went to the Original Pancake House and asked Ivan, the server, which ones were best. He recommended the pumpkin pancakes and suggested I add pecans. Which I most certainly did.

Yep. I get my cakes on a little plate and immediately ask Ivan for a second plate. And he gave me one but also gave me a hairy eyeball at the same time. I poked my fork into the top pancake and placed it on the new plate at which point Ivan said, "Oh, you're one of those, are you?"  And I was like, "Huh?"  And Ivan said, "One of those one at a time pancake eating ladies."

Which I am still not sure was an insult or not. But seeing as his recommendation was worth every single calorie, I let it slide. Those pumpkin pecan pancakes were YUMMY. I ate two and saved one. And it never saw syrup so I ate it on Saturday. Take that, Ivan.

Hmm. What else?

Oh. The other day I was standing outside with Zack waiting for the bus to come. So it's early in the morning and, okay, I don't get too dolled up for the bus stop wait, I admit. (That poor busdriver has seen a whole lot of crazy pajama-fied outfits from me, that's for sure.) This day was no different. I was donning a college hoodie and my pink fleece Paul Frank monkey pants. Along with my Ugg boots.

Awesome, I know.

So we're standing there talking and across the street I see this dude walking down the street in a three-piece suit. It's dark outside but I can still tell he's in a suit. And okay, maybe it isn't a three-piece one but it always sounds fancier when you say it that way. Doesn't it? Yeah.

Okay, so me and Zack (yes, I meant to say "me and Zack") are singing some random song or talking about the lunch menu. And dude in his three-piece suit is just strolling on along like it's not unusual for a dude to be walking down the street at the literal crack of dawn in a suit. He's holding a lunch box and I notice even from where I am that he is smiling and generally pleasant appearing. Which is kind of cool. And I am coming up with a story for who he is and where he could be going and whether or not he's a big deal on his job, a dude that just likes haberdashery, or both. But he looks so nice that I start to decide that he just likes haberdashery because really big deal people are probably more serious-intimidating-looking. Which he was not. Then as he gets a little closer I realize that he looks familiar.

"Hey Kim!"

He looks right at me (in my hoodie and fleece get up) and waves.  And I recognize him in that instant and erupt into a huge smile. Well, half smile-half mortified at him calling my name while I'm wearing this crazy outfit. I decide to shrug it off.

"Good morning, Dean!"

Yes. The Dean of our Medical School was walking to work with his packed lunch early in the morning. And let me just be clear. The Dean is my big boss. Maybe I should say it in caps. My BIG BOSS. And this current Dean was just appointed last year. I was a huge fan of our last Dean and so far have been a big fan of this one, too.

But you know? Something about seeing him walking to work with a smile on his face for no apparent reason and a lunchbox in his hand made me feel even better about having him as our leader. This guy? He's a BIG DEAL. But every time I see him, he's kind and seems happy to see not only me but whomever it is he's with. He was like that before he was the Dean and is still that way. Which is very, very inspiring.

Yeah, so from across the street in the dark he made a little small talk with me and asked about my son which was very cool. He said hi to Zachary and when he walked off, I told Zachary that this man was my big, big boss. And Zack said, "He was nice." Which coming from a seven year old his a big compliment.

It's funny how the little things make such a difference. And such a huge impression.

Yup.

It was a heavy week at work.  On rounds the other day, I told this man that he was dying. He wasn't even fifty years old. Years of bad habits had caught up with his body. But it caught up sooner than usual so everyone was caught off guard by the extent of his disease. He had a long-time-love that he'd been with since middle school. And two grown up kids who were driving to be with him.

"I have so much I want to see." He was crying when he said that. Crying hard. And I thought about my life and what I've seen but still how much more I want to see. Then his love kept asking what could be done to fight this and overcome it. And scientifically speaking the answer is actually not the answer I want to give or she wants to hear. So I kept it vague saying, "This is really serious. I wish it weren't." And she got it because she stopped asking and he already had it because that just made him weep harder and louder.

And you know what? That moment absolutely sucked.

Isaiah is back in robotics! He's super psyched about it. I'm thrilled for him because he's a great builder with a critical mind. I can't wait to watch it all unfold. He also just joined the gardening club at school because he wants to know more about planting food to eat. So there you go.

I love this picture of JoLai and my mom taken at Homecoming. Mom got a bunch of red Mardi Gras beads and gave them to people to wear in Deanna's memory. Cool right? I wasn't at Homecoming this year, but JoLai, Mom and Dad definitely held down the fort.

Here's another snapshot sent to me by one of my linesisters who ran into Mommy at the game. So cool!

 

What else? Hmmm. Oh, this.

Saturdays mean peewee football for us. So yesterday at the game, I was filming a play with my iPhone. Zachary got the ball and ran it for a long touchdown. And since I was videoing it I could hear myself which was hilarious. Absolutely, positively hilarious. Here is what I *hollered* at the top of my lungs:

"Okay, Z. Okay Z. . . there you go, son. Keep going. . .keep going. . .okay, okay, I got you on film, buddy, let's go . . . okay. . .okay. . ."

Then he shook off the last of the defensive backs and was out in the clear. That's when I morphed into a crazy lady.

"YOU BETTA DUST 'EM ZACK MANNING! YOU BETTA RUN THAT BALL, SON! YES SIR!!!! YOU BETTA DO IT, ZACK MANNING! YOU BETTA DO IT AND YO' MAMA BETTA FILM IT WHILE YOU DO IT! WHAT?! WHAT!!! YOU DID THAT, SON!! SHOOOOOT! YOU DID THAT!"

And another mom in the background was egging me on which was even funnier. I just realized that no matter how much education you have, all subject verb agreement goes out of the window when your child is scoring. I swear if I didn't think it would come back to bite me professionally, I'd totally post the video. So, so hilarious. I don't think our Dean would be smiling and waving if he saw me doing the Ray Lewis dance and hollering after that touchdown. Just saying.

(This is pretty much exactly what I did. I'm not ashamed.)

What else?

Hmmm. Oh. Poopdeck has been tutoring Isaiah four nights per week. I was about to sign him up for a tutor or with one of those centers like Kumon or something. And my dad said, "Why do that when you have me? Let me work with him but the deal is that you have to treat it like you'd treat something you were paying for." And that made sense because before I was sort of hit or miss with it all. But now I send him copies of all of the homework and we log on at 6:30 pm. We sure do. My mom even found a school desk for him to use that is a perfect height for both him and Zachary. And it is totally, totally awesome.

I'm glad to have my dad. And my mom. And just my family.

And especially, my life. Joy. Pain. Sunshine. Rain. I'm glad for it.

That's all I've got this morning.

***
Happy Sunday.