Rambles...

I should start this by reminding one and all who read it that I am pumping myself up with hefty doses of estrogen and progesterone, so the melancholy is even more magnified. (Amber, I asked John. He said magniscope is not a word. I think it was completely fine. There goes the vocabulary neighborhood, huh?)

See, the hormones make me ramble as well.

I failed to mention a few things about my birthday. My amazing mother-in-law, who I couldn't love more if she was my flesh and blood, made me strawberry cupcakes with rainbow chip icing, per my request. She also has been cleaning my house, cooking for me, and making me feel horribly guilty as I've just been sitting on the sofa for several days now.

I got a lovely bouquet of flowers on my front porch when I got home from church. A very full bunch of pretty white daisies, but more special to my heart were the two very special roses also included. One was red, one was yellow. My heart melted.

Today, I got another beautiful flower arrangement...a beautiful yellow bouquet of daisies. The card read, "....I know you love red, but I am thinking of Yellow Fish too."

You know, some people just don't get it. They *think* they do and try to tell you things that DO NOT MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER. ("Hope Yellow Fish makes it and is a boy because then you'll be SET!") Seriously?

Some people don't get it, KNOW they don't get it and just don't say anything at all. I am so thankful for their silence in lieu of the wrong words.

Some people don't get it, KNOW they don't get it and tell you as much...while they tell you they love you and wish it was better. That love and wishing is priceless.

And then there are some people who may not get *it* but TOTALLY get YOU. I am so, so blessed I have so many of those people in my life. Both bouquets of flowers made my days.

John sort of forgot about my birthday. Well, I guess he remembered, and more sort of forgot to do anything for it, in light of the fact that he has been trying to get his aircraft out to Minnesota since January. (Good thing he makes pretty babies and cooks well, huh?)

Today, I got a FEDEX package. To save the driver the aggravation of my zealous hounds, I went outside and met him. As I signed for it, I told him that it was my birthday gift from my husband. He said, "Oh, happy birthday!" I told him it was yesterday. He said, "Oh. Oops. Funny, because it was supposed to be for Tuesday delivery...I just got it to you early."

Did I mention my husband makes pretty babies and cooks well? Oh, yeah, I did.

Anyway, he sent me a watch. (Which should make anyone in our family, or good friends of ours who read this, laugh seeing as JOHN is the one who has love affairs with watches, but I digress...) My current watch doesn't fit so well as my wrist has changed in size since my pregnancy (along with my hip size, my shoulder size, my shoe size and my rib size) and so he replaced it. Very thoughtful.

What I love, though, (and what redeems his lack of memory) is his card. It's a small, very colorful card with lots of little kids on the front. Inside it says, "The whole world is smiling." His words are what gets him out of hot water: "The more I look at greeting cards, the harder it is to find one that says the right thing. At least this card benefits children. (It benefits UNICEF, so we'll have to have a discussion on that later, but anyway....) Also, sometimes, when I feel very alone, especially now that I am away from home, but when I see how many people around the world care about you and me because of our story and your amazing ability to communicate, I feel like the whole world is crying, praying, hoping, feeling and yes, even smiling with us...." There's a bit more, but that's my favorite part.

So please, if you think of me or Matthew, lift John up as well. He misses his baby boy, he is away from home (without the pleasure of his lovely 3-ring dog circus) and it really, really means something to him (and me too) when we are lifted.

As for the disclaimer at the beginning? I cried throughout the entire writing of this. I miss that little boy of mine.