I have become a mush.

Ex 1: Church this morning was lively. Brian has become a percussionist of sorts, using his body and guitar to keep rhythm (since he has no drummer). It really works better than you would think. One song in particular was fun, with Brian stomping the beat on the riser and the congregation clapping along. At the end, in the tiniest silence just before the transition to the next song, I heard the little boy behind me say to his dad, "I want to do that AGAIN."

Ex 2: A family in our church adopted two little boys, ages 5 and 6, last year. The youngest one looks like the All-American Boy. Think Opie Taylor. And he likes Brian, as some kids are wont to do. Three times this Sunday I looked up to see Opie standing close to Brian, who is inevitably talking to another grown-up. Whenever Brian would notice him, he would say, "What up dude. Give me five." To which the little boy would oblige, then, satisfied, run away. It was so cute.

Ex 3: I bought a going-home outfit for Asher yesterday. I bought some other stuff, too (including a very cool little model canoe for his dresser, and a railroad crossing sign to hang in his room. There's not really a theme, so much as a look that I'm going for here). But I'm superexcited about the going-home outfit. It's a green velour-looking onesie that has snowmen on it. It's definitely a Christmas outfit (so he better be here BY Christmas, or he'll be out of season). I know the outfit is a little silly, but I'm having a Christmas Baby and it's a Christmas Outfit and it's not blue (which is hard to find, when you're talking about baby clothes. Thankfully I like blue.) and I like it. Because I'm a mush.

By the way, Georgia is a genius. Seriously - I'm not just saying that. The girl is 18 months old and can tell you what she had for lunch that day. Most kids, at 18 months, can wave bye-bye and say "ball." That doesn't make me a mush; it just makes me proud.