What to Write?

Undoubtedly, I've become a little lax on my blogging...here's a secret: been working on another novel and I only have so much capacity to type before the joints in my 40ish fingers start to ache.

A number of topics dance in my mind. My sweet and purple-haired daughter. My adorable but deceitful son. (We made him watch Liar Liar last night to teach him a lesson...wow, there's a lot more sexual content in that show than I remember. Wonder if he really learned a lesson.) Dog lovers. Cat lovers. Hamster lovers. (Is there really such a thing?) Friends. My hubby. Cross that one out. Doug doesn't love to be featured in these blogs...Work. (Who doesn't want to hear more about that magical industry called FINANCE?) Okay, I got it. The topic that everyone can relate.

American Idol...

Is it just me, or am I the only person who CRIES on every single episode??? I was really happy to see Kara breakdown this week. I'm not the only nut. A few other thoughts:

*Our adorable Iowan is GONE! Damn, that girl could sing...but apparently, we midwesterners were too busy complaining about the dreary weather to get her voted back on. And apparently the lack of AT&T coverage discourages us to text.
*I was so hoping that Alex would finally bring back the mullet. (Remember how long it took wide-legged pants to return?) Seriously, I loved the kid. He was my favorite of the guys. I think even Kaitlyn (who was already kicked off) was crying for him more than herself. Did anyone else catch that? Sweet Iowa girl.
*My current faves - Lacey (her song made me sob!) and Didi...she gave Stevie Nicks a run with an awesome rendition of Rhiannon. According to me at least...And of course, Big Mike is completely loveable. I'd like to see him lift Ryan Seacrest above his arms. Wouldn't that be cute?

Next week, they take on the Rolling Stones. I'm predicting Katie will do a Muzak version of Brown Sugar. Now that could really make me cry.

Crying

"Mom, you scare me when you cry," says my young son anytime he detects a tear welling in my eye. Inherently, I know my tears scare him. Parents are security blankets, right? So, my tears easily disclose my vulnerability. What makes this so shameful is that I seem to be the biggest cry-baby in the household. Show me a good Kodak commercial, and it's Niagara Falls. (Do they make Kodak commercials anymore?)

My ten-year old daughter is showing signs of inheriting her father's emotional posture. While she cried when Grandpa Mark died and when Nick Jonas was diagnosed with diabetes, she never sqeaks a tear -- even during the saddest of movies! (Let me note that when she endures physical pain, the cry can be heard for miles. It's almost embarrassing.)

My six-year old boy seems to be battling a conflict between his gender and the need to cry. Even when he's been hurt physically, he actually attempts to run away so no one sees him. If I'm quick enough to catch him, he buries his head to muffle his sobs. (Do any other parents have to run their kids down to comfort them?) Anyway, I've discovered him wiping a tear at a few movies -- the first time was when Charlotte the spider died. When I asked him about the tear, he quickly explained, "No! I had something in my eye!" Since then, I've seen Cole choke back tears and it makes me kind of sad. I want him to cry. It's okay to cry!

So, the other night, we're watching E.T. (One of the best family shows of all time I may add.) I finally sit down and pull Cole on my lap as E.T. is dying.

I'm not gonna cry.

I'm not gonna cry. Gulp. Sniff. Swallow hard. Don't cry, you big baby! You know what happens! He's not gonna die! Tears are flowing. I'm trying hard not to make any gutteral noises as my nose begins to run as well. Cole's not budging and neither of the kids are making fun of my emotional state. I sneak a peek at Alex on the couch. Her cheeks are as dry as the desert. Finally, it's okay. E.T.'s alive. Now, E.T. has to go home and say goodbye to Elliot.

Dang. They're back -- the tears, and harder this time. I can't hold back my sobs anymore. I just let loose. The kids look at me, roll their eyes and smile. Cole didn't even cry! Or did he?

Either my hyped-up emotional state made me oblivious or he hid his tears extremely well. Because as I gave him a bath, I asked, "C'mon Cole! Didn't you even cry a little during E.T.?" He hesitated. But under his breath came the confession, "Well, just a little."

I hugged him. "Good."