Shoulda, woulda, coulda

A brother I have told me that he will never have a game system in his home because he doesn't want his kids to be freakshows about it like mine are. I too recall saying those exact same words. Here's a list of things I said I'd never do but have caved on:

• Buying a game system-although it was grandma who bought it, we have updated the games and allowed the playing to happen
• Letting the kids watch too much tv-somedays, not everyday. Discovery Channel's educational so it's okay, right?
• Making them sit in a carseat past the required age of 5-I didn't realize how embarassing it was for little kids to have to sit in a booster
• Saying "Because I said so"-quickest way to end an argument is by exerting the mom-authority
• Letting the kids figure out their own problems with each other-I always thought I'd make a great mediator, making sure the fair punishment was dealt to the proper perpetrator. Yeah okay.
• Letting the babies cry it out-I fix what I can, and accept that sometimes babies, just like us, need a good cry
• Having a messy house-this is one I struggle with, because I really, Really, like a perfectly clean home. Oh for more time in the day, or a maid who worked for M 'n' M's.
• Cooking a healthy vegetable laden dinner every night-more often than I like to admit we eat cereal, which my kids love. Who knew?
• Buying cheap kids clothing-how I loved dressing my children in adorable expensive outfits, only to see them ruined a day later from the mud, or ketchup. For that, we shop at Target.
• Driving a minivan-oh for the coolness of an suv, never thought I'd be a minivan girl. If gas were cheaper or I lived closer to civilization...

I guess what I'm trying to say is that before children came into my life, I had visions of what it would entail, how I'd be the best mom who never lost her patience, who always had cookies in the oven, who was fun and happy, basically the coolest mom in the hood. 4 children and a dose of reality later, I've realized that the mom I've become was not the one I envisioned. Am I okay with that? Sometimes. I'm not giving up, though. Someday, we will have a clean house and a real dinner everyday. Maybe I'll start by hiding the gamesystem.

Brandon

Chance was so excited that he finally found this picture he drew of his Aunt Beka's friend, Brandon. It was dated November 28, 2004 when Chance was almost 7 years old. I think we meant to send it to Brandon on his mission but somehow lost it. So here you go. I think it looks just like Uncle Brandon, don't you?

Lucky

Yesterday was my day to take the kids to school, and my friend brought them home. As the kids walk in the door, Chance is mad, Emme's on the verge of tears, and my friend is standing in my doorway. Apparently, Chance and his friend were throwing rocks while they waited for their ride. And apparently they were trying to hit a sign. And apparently Chance hit a car windshield. Now Emme took it upon herself to tell the aide what Chance had done. And the aide told the principal. And I was to get a phone call. Okay, I say, great.
When I ask Chance about it, he's adamant that he didn't mean to hit the car, totally missing the point that throwing rocks at school is against the law, playground law that is. When I ask Emme why she told on him, tears well up and she says "because throwing rocks is wrong, and am I in trouble?" No of course not, throwing rocks is wrong, but come on, is tattling okay?
So today I get my phone call from the principal. Chance is suspended for today, the punishment all delinquent rock-throwers get. I'm not sure how effective getting to come home from school and read books all day is as a punishment, but okay.
When I ask him later about what him and the principal talked about, he explained to me that he told him what happened. At least he's honest, right? When I asked him what the principal said, he told me that the principal called him lucky, because he could've broken the windshield of the car. Chance said back to him in a cheerful voice, "Yeah I was lucky! Because I don't have any money right now and I couldn't have paid for it!" Always an optimist.
By the way, his consequence for getting suspended is picking up rocks in the backyard, so we didn't let him off scott free. How did Mom ever put up with Mike and all the terrible things he did that warrented phone calls from the principal?

The Lake

We went camping over Spring Break up to Canyon Lake. It was beautiful, not too hot, not too cold. The kids played in the lake, caught tiny fish, and enjoyed the company of friends who went with us. All in all it was a good time.
It reminded me of the first time I saw Canyon Lake, a lake I didn't even know existed until I was 19 years old. My then boyfriend wanted to take me up to Tortilla Flats for lunch. I hadn't heard of it, but thought it might be interesting to visit an old west town, seeing as I had lived in Arizona my whole life and had never seen one.
I rode on the back of his motorcycle driving down the 60, going so fast I feared for my life. He says he was doing the speed limit, but on the back of a bike with nothing to hang onto but him, it felt like 100.
We took the exit to Apache Junction, the furthest east I had ever been besides my Grandma's house. As we entered the Tonto National Forest, the road started to get steep and curvy. He said this was the best part of the ride, leaning from side to side on his bike going up and down the mountain's edge. At least he wasn't driving fast, I thought. I remember hiding my head in the back of his black leather jacket, not wanting to look at the oncoming traffic that veered so eerily close to us.
We came up to the top of a mountain and that's when I saw it. A lake in the middle of the desert! I asked him later about it, couldn't believe I didn't know about it. There were boaters, fishers, skiiers, tanners. All these people who had discovered this little enclave. I felt like I had been missing out on something fabulous my entire life.
We drove past it to the restaurant. We had lunch, and I remember he left a big tip. He loved this little place, and I figured out a lot about him that day. He liked the old west, motorcycle rides, impressing his lady, and me holding on to him.
He's brought me back to the lake a few times since. And I realized I had been missing out on something fabulous, but it wasn't the lake. It was him.

Decorating on a budget

My most favorite new decoration is my lettering on glass. My friend Susie makes the lettering, you can see her stuff here. I took an old frame and hot glued the glass in. The lettering comes in one piece and was super simple to apply. It says "Search diligently, pray always and be believing and all things shall work together for your good". I think it's our new family motto. I also got the star at Home Goods, which my husband says screams Texas to him.
Most awesome deal! This couch was donated to us by some neighbors and is a very Santa Fe hunter green and teal and red. Which explains the slipcover. I found this at Target for $25, 75% off the original price. It is brown microfiber and comes in two pieces, one for the cushions and one for the couch. Now I don't need new furniture, at least anytime soon. The pillows came from Kirklands at $6.99, the only thing I've ever bought there.

These window treatments are sheers that I bought months ago on clearance at Linens n Things for $9.00 each. I am having a hard time deciding what to do with them. I have three windows in my family room and each one looks like this. All I did was screw in hooks and drape them on. Not sure I like it, but it works for now.
Modge podge is my new favorite crafting technique. I got these letters at Michaels and decoupaged the scrapbook paper on. I love the way they look, but am having a hard time finding a place to put them. For now, they are above my cabinets in the kitchen, leaning against wine glasses.
Oh, for natural lighting in my bathroom like Beka has! I am really liking how this is coming together. The picture I bought at Home Goods and it has a bluish vase and white orchids with deep red in them. The two frames I bought clearanced at Target for $3.50, and say Powder and Room, scrapbooked on blue and deep red paper. All are in black frames. I can't wait to paint the walls khaki and add a black iron wine rack to hold rolled up towels.

This is what I've been up to for the past few days. Not done yet, and I'm still in the mood to add. Can't wait to see the finished product, a completely decorated house. And maybe a finished backyard.

Mistaken Identity

A funny thing happened last night.

I was upstairs feeding the babe, and the other kids were downstairs watching the Mythbusters try to fly using a piece of plywood. I admit that I was upstairs watching the same thing, but I digress.
Anyways, I called down to see where everyone was, as the tiniest was taking her sweet time to eat. Everyone is on the couch, Cannon's asleep. Cool, only two to feed ice cream to, I'll be down in a sec to dish it out.
I come down and see a little man missing.
Where's Cannon, I ask.
Um...he was here a second ago.
I start looking for him, checking the front room, bathroom, until I find him in the laundry room, curled up on a pile of clean towels, feet wedged against the garage door.
Hmmm...odd place to get up and go to sleep, but okay. Maybe he was going out to the car to get his blanket.
When I bend down to pick him up I notice that things are wet, the towels imparticularly.
Oh no, he had an accident.
But then I realize that his pants aren't wet. How is that possible?
And then I figure it out.
He had mistaken the laundry room for the bathroom, pulled down his pants, and peed all over my washer and dryer, completely asleep. And then he layed down on top of the clean towels as they soaked up the mess.
How does one mistake a washing machine for a toilet? We laughed about this for a while.

Luau

So we went to a Blue and Gold Banquet a few weeks ago. For all the uninitiated, that's a scouting thing. And not being one to look forward to church food, I ate before we left.
However...
They were serving Hawaiian Haystacks, which I've had before but never like this.
They used a sauce made from dry italian dressing and cream cheese and cream of chicken, which I couldn't have but I had made before so I knew what it tasted like. It's basically Liz's crockpot cream cheese chicken.
But the killer part was the toppings. My favorites were:

• Red peppers
• Green onions
• Coconut
• Pineapple
• Slivered Almonds
• Cheese

All of this over rice. I know this sounds like an awfully simple thing, but I have been craving it ever since. So last night I made it for my family. And it was delicious, even if Em and I were the only ones eating it. It meant leftovers for lunch. Mmmm...

Back to the Blue and Gold, they had an elder from Samoa, I think, in our area. He got up on stage and did what one could only call a modern version of traditional dance. The music he was dancing to was almost techno-like. It was quite funny, but the best part came after he was done. He got his two companions, two of the whitest boys I've ever seen come out of Idaho, up on stage and they danced with him. It looked like they had practiced beforehad, as the two elders were trying their best to keep up their moves. It was a complete lack of rhthym. And the music was sooo loud, it even got the stake out of their offices to come watch. The whole building was there to see these elders. And the best part was the samoan elder, didn't want to stop. They had to tell him enough after like 15 minutes. I'm not sure if the scouts appreciated it, but the rest of us did.

Can you imagine the memories those two elders will have of their mission? "Well son, on my mission, we took the stage at a rockin' Blue and Gold and shook our moneymakers for the Stake President."

Chicken enchiladas, salad, cherry cobbler

The lesson yesterday was on gaining a testimony in personal revelation. It got me thinking back to a few years ago.
At the time I was feeling very service oriented, and found myself volunteering quite often. One blessing I received from this was the ability to sometimes discern when others were in need. However, I was not always so quick to make those out of the blue calls. I was paralyzed by my own doubt, did that person really need something, or was it just one of my own passing thoughts? What if I call and they don't need anything? How embarassing!
One such day I woke up and felt almost right away that I needed to make two dinners. This was not just a whim, but a very strong impression. I didn't have much in the way of food, so off to the store I went. I wasn't sure who was going to need it, or what they would like, so I bought stuff I wanted to eat, just double. I was amazed, and very proud of myself for listening to and following up on a prompting.
I came home and began preparing midafternoon, hoping to get the phone call that someone needed this food. No phone call came. I went through a short list of close friends that I called, checking to see if they were alright, seeing if they needed dinner. No such luck. I prayed, and a person came into my head.
No, I thought, it can't be her. Yes she did just have a baby, but her mom was there, taking care of her and the baby. Plus she had her husband home. I was sure they didn't need it.
But the feeling didn't leave.
I was hoping that, miraculously, someone at her house would know I had this food, call me and ask me to bring it over. I even picked up the phone a few times, starting to call her, but I always hung up before I finished dialing.
It was soon too late. Dinner time was over and I hadn't taken all of this food anywhere. I ended up giving it to a friend, who didn't really need it, but accepted it nonetheless. And I felt like maybe I had misunderstood my impression, maybe it wasn't the spirit but my own imagination.
A few days later I called the person who had just had the baby. Turns out she had gotten a really bad infection, and her mom and husband had the flu. And the worst day of it all was the day I had made an extra dinner, but didn't take it.
Here I had her dinner, and I had felt too embarassed to even call to check up on her.
I wish I could say that from that day on I never slacked on an impression again, but I don't think I can. I find myself still doubting my ability to receive revelation, still wondering if it's all in my head. But I am getting better.
And I know the next time I make two dinners, I will call. Because I know that the worst thing that can happen is missing out on an opportunity to be the answer to someones prayers.

Family

This is my all time favorite family picture. There's not much in the way of competition, as we haven't had one taken in years. In fact the last one was before Cannon was born 5 years ago. But even so, this picture captures the essence of my family.

It was a ridiculously cold morning, the first day of the new year. The kids were freezing and I of course, forgot to bring coats. So we sat in the car and waited for our turn. Getting the little ones to smile was a trial. Cannon was done after a couple minutes, his hands in his pockets, looking down, not wanting to smile, shivering. I kept wrapping up Claire in her blanket in between poses, her fingers turning blue. Chance had his fake Grandpa Fuller smile going on, while Emme played up to the crowd.

When I was growing up we used to have a family picture taken every year. Every year we would pile in the car and head out to Sears to be immortalized with bad hair. When I was very little, I remember we would go to Bob's Big Boy afterwards. It was quite a treat, as we hardly ever went out to eat. I don't know how my mom did it, with all those kids to get picture ready. But I understand why. And I wish I had more family pictures.

Sassy

Before

So I got a haircut.

The kids

Because I haven't in a while, I thought I'd post some pics.

Point

The professor has this uncanny ability to embarass me, just by being his normal self. I should accept this, and not let his actions worry me, and yet every time it happens, I want to shout, "He's not mine! I will not claim him!"
Yesterday was one such day.
About 2 hours before church he gets the call. No teacher for one of the youth Sunday School class. As is Mike's calling, he steps up and prepares the lesson. No big deal, although he did try to pawn it off on me. Yeah right, I say, I have enough to do.
So church comes and off to class everyone scampers as soon as the last note is sung for our dismissal hymn.
I had many copies to make and am hanging out in the library, I know, missing my own SS lesson! What an example.
In walks the professor.
"Is it time to change already?" Asks the librarian.
"No, I left", he replies.
"Ha ha ha," I nervously laugh, "Did your lesson go short?"
"No, I left, they were out of control and I left," he answers.
Oh crap, I think. Are you kidding me? All of the worst case scenarios run through my head.
Parents angry, kids upset, bishop throwing us out of church, telling us never to come back.
The professor doesn't want to talk about it. I make a quick exit and head to RS, curious as all get out as to what happened. Embarassed that the librarian heard.
On the drive home I pester him. What did you SAY?! What did you DO?!

Now I must remind you that his profession is TEACHING. He spent two years on a reservation middle school teaching science to gangbangers! He's not a wuss, and can handle pretty much anything in a classroom.

Apparently he pulled out all his tricks. And nothing doing. So he wanted to prove a point. He slowly packed up his bags, told them not to disturb the other classes, and left.
Okay, I say. It's not as terrible as I suspected. Just an attention getter. They were only in there by themselves for 5 minutes. He stood outside the door. No big deal.

And then the phone calls start.

A parent wanting to know what he can do to help.
One of the kids apologizing.
Cookies and a written apology from another.

Someone asks us about it at a friends house for dinner. This is, apparently, big news. It seems the whole ward knows. By the next morning, the story is retold to me, although it's a female teacher and she was crying.

And I'm mortified.

30

It seems that everytime I step away from the computer, I come up with fabulous ideas for posts. But as soon as I sit in front of my screen, my mind is a blank. Isn't memory loss the first thing to go? Speaking of age, I spent the morning with girls in their early 20's, cute girls with no wrinkles and not one single strand of grey. As I wistfully admired them, one of them said that she couldn't wait to be older. What for, I thought? But as I pondered that statement, I decided that being in my early 30's has its rewards. And here they are:

Reasons I like being 30

• I am already done having children
• I don't worry about what other people think of me, mostly
• I can buy clothes that are comfortable, usually in the missus department
• I don't always have to have my hair and makeup done, in fact I hardly ever do
• I can drive a minivan without shame
• My husband is done with school and has a real job (the college, not the pizza)
• I have been through enough rocky spots in my marriage to appreciate the smooth sailing
• I don't worry about needing a tan, and try to prevent it at all costs
• It's normal for someone of my age to have hips, and saggy boobs, and saddlebags
• I can buy clothes for my kids at Target instead of Baby Gap without feeling guilty
• I can go to bed early and wake up early without missing anything
• This is the age my children will remember me as

I'm sure I could think of more if given more time. I'm excited for my 30's, excited to appreciate all life has to offer for this next decade. Besides, it's not like I'm 40.

Grand Canyon

I have this friend. She's a good friend, one of my dearest friends. We've been friends for what seems like forever. We are very different, in almost every aspect of our lives, and yet we remain friends. And now she's going through a hard time, probably one of the hardest of her life. She's on the verge of making a choice, a decision that will affect her entire life. And I can't do anything about it. Except be there for her when she wants to talk, and hope and pray that I can say something that will help. But I think she really just needs someone to listen.

We've all been there, at one time or another. Trials come as canyons in the middle of our journey, seemingly impossible to conquer, at yet, you can see the path on the other side. There is no way to get there besides taking it one step at a time, down into the canyon and then back up again, until finally you look back and realize you've made it.

I think about my trials. The ones that I've clawed my way out of, the ones I am down in the middle of. I know I have many more in store for me, waiting for a time when the journey is easy and life is good, to hit me dead on. The only way to get through, the only way I find peace, is to pray. Reassurance comes, not that everything will be fixed and not even that everything will be fine, but reassurance that I can handle it, that I'm strong enough or I will be made strong enough. And that comfort is how I've learned to deal.

I prayed for my friend, still am. And already prayers are being answered. And she recognizes it, and she is comforted.

Umm...Excuse you!

There's nothing like having a new baby in the house to remind you of how tiny, sweet, and innocent your other children once were. I've found that I remember some things about their babyhood that I had completely forgotten, while I struggle to remember others. Especially when Claire does something cute and they ask, "Did I do that when I was a baby?" Oftentimes the on-the-spot answer is at best a guess, because I know somebody did it, I just can't remember who.
I also love how sweet and tender it has made them towards her. They all vie for her attention because they want to be the one to make her smile and laugh. They want to be the one to calm her down. They want to be the one she loves the most. I remind them that she can't play favorites, that she loves us all the same, unconditionaly.
But I've found that they really want to be the person that gets her to burp. I thought this was just another one of their ways to love on her, but it turns out it's because they think her burps are hilarious. Not only is Claire the only person in the house allowed to burp as loud as she wants, which is quite funny to them, but she also usually has some sort of gross spit up that follows. And that's what really kills them. "Wow mom! Did you hear that one? That one was sooo loud, and look, she spit everywhere! giggle giggle Claire is so great!"

I'm going on a picnic, and I'm taking an Apple...

As the professor turns into the pizza man every Thur, Fri, and Sat evening, it leaves me with lots of dinners alone with the kids, because he's teaching on Mon and Wed evenings as well. On weekdays I'll actually make something, knowing that my picky boys won't eat it, so that dad has lunch to take with him the following day. As frustrating as it is to cook and have half the table turn up their noses, I know my dearest appreciates it.
Now on the weekends, my pizza man comes home with his own dinner, usually pizza and wings. So these are the nights the kids have cereal, or hot dogs, or grilled cheese. The boys look forward to these nights, loving the fact that they get to eat their favorite foods and not have to try any of that gross food I make.
Yesterday the princess asked if we could have a picnic lunch inside the house. Since dad was home, I had an excuse to make a big lunch. We were going to eat fajitas, mmm. She wanted to eat them on a blanket on the floor of the family room. Bad idea. But I told her we would have a picnic dinner.
Dinner time comes and she reminds me that I said we would have a picnic. Oh right, I remember. Hmmm. What can we eat on the floor that I won't have to use a mop to clean up? I break out the crackers. Then I get out some cheese, sliced american, pieces of cheddar, and string, because no one child likes the same kind. I cut up an apple and a pear. I wash some grapes. A few slices of bread are added, along with the jar of peanut butter. And there you go, dinner. The princess wants to make Kool-aid. I cringe, but she finds the sugar free kind. At least if it spills, it won't be sticky.
We all sit down on the blanket. She has set plastic utensils and tiny paper plates and tiny paper cups. All the food is on a platter, so the kids dive right in. Cheese and apples are great. We make grape sandwiches. Peanut butter gets put on crackers, and on apples, and is eaten by spoonfuls. We play the "I'm going on a picnic and I'm going to take an Apple... " game and get all the way up to Q. It was the most fun picnic we've had in a long time. And the princess is so happy.
For dessert I make pumpkin pie shakes. Here's the recipe, but be careful, because they are delicious. My kids loved them.

1 package pumpkin spice pudding (it's new from Jello)
2 cups milk
Vanilla ice cream
more milk
whipped cream

Prepare pudding with 2 cups milk according to directions and let chill until set, about 10 minutes. Put in blender along with lots of ice cream and more milk. Blend adding milk until it reaches a desire consistancy. Top with whipped cream.

The desk

I am really starting to hate my blog. I've been messing with the template, hoping to find the excitement that comes with change. But everytime I log on nowadays, I loathe the way it looks, the words I've written, the vibe that radiates from it. I want to quit the blog.

However, I know you people, all 6 of you that read this drivel. I know how blog-esque you all are. I know you might shed a small tear if I were to give it up. So I shall tarry on, for you.

The princess and I finished her desk. It turned out way cute, although a tad different than I had imagined. When I explained the project to her, she was so excited to help as she's super crafty. I told her we were going to cut up pieces of scrapbook paper and glue them down to the top of her desk. Simple. Well we sit down with the scissors and both start cutting. I look up from my pile of nice large geometric shapes, and see her pile. She's cutting out tiny pieces of paper in odd shapes. I stop her and explain how if we do it that way, it will take forever and waste lots of paper, and ask her to try to cut bigger pieces. She does this and pretty soon we both are ready to glue. She takes one corner, I take the other. After I had shown her how to do it, I let her go. A few minutes later I look at what she's doing. She was doing it all wrong. I stop her and show her how to make sure the pieces touch, and to not leave big spaces of desk in between. She gets frustrated, asking why she can't just do it her way. Why can't she? Why is my way the better way? I don't have an answer to that.

So we finish it, and I let her do what she wants to do, not trying to fix anything to make it perfect. And it turned out awesome.

Languages

I read through that last post and decided it was a bit whiny. My posts as of late have pretty much sucked. Sorry.

I had a friend tell me a while ago about love languages. This book is about the five different ways people speak love. Click here to learn about them and discover your own love language.

Anyways, it came as no surprise that my husband and I have different languages. This was something I learned early on. I speak two languages. I am definitely a "Words of Affirmation". This means I actually need to hear words spoken to me, telling me I am loved, appreciated, lookin' good. I am also a little"Physical Touch". Don't get the wrong idea people, it also means that I know I am loved when someone hugs me, holds my hand, rubs my back.

My dearest is entirely an "Acts of Service". He feels loved when I clean the bathroom, or put away the laundry, or clean the stove. In fact, he has said many times over the years that actions speak louder than words.

Now think about how hard it is for two people to show love or feel loved, when one person says "I love you", and all the other person does is wash the dishes. The author likens it to one person speaking English and the other Chinese. You just don't understand each other. Thank goodness we've figured each other out. We aren't perfect and have our miscommunications, but I think we are much better at expressing our feelings and making sure to understand when the other is as well.

What's your love language?

Roses

We had a great Valentine's dinner yesterday, a day early since the professor will be teaching tonight. I made a turkey, one of his favorites, and we ate by candlelight, all six of us. It was quite funny because the turkey was done way sooner than I had expected, so we had to close all the blinds in order to experience the candles. Afterwards we had FHE and we made secret valentines for each other that said one thing we loved about them on it. It was fun to wake up this morning and have the kids scrambling to pass them out with eager excitement at 5:30am.

Now you might think, aww, what a cute way to spend the holiday. And it was. But part of me is wishing I hadn't told my husband not to worry about getting me anything or doing anything. I won't be disappointed, because we're a little beyond that point in our marriage. There used to be a time when I would expect some sort of lavish display of his affection. Now I know he loves me, even without the jewelry and cards and fancy dinners at expensive restaurants.

But I love flowers, as impractical as they are. I love how they look on my table, especially red roses in a tall vase. I love the fragrance that fills my home. I might just go out and buy some for myself. Or maybe I'll tell him they're for him, from me. The best part is, he'd understand.

Epiphany

Wow, that last post was a bit ridiculous. Who wants to read something that long?

I had what I like to call an epiphany, although I'm sure it was more of just an eye-opening experience. I've always been not super great at meeting new people. I am too worried about how others will perceive my intentions, like they'll think, why is she talking to me? And I also worry about what others will think of me, big surprise there huh mom?
These last few weeks at church since I was called into the Relief Society, I have had to greet many of the sisters in the ward to hand out items. I've poured over the pictures we have of all of them and have found I now know most of their names. As I've had to actually talk to them, and get to know them, I've realized how amazingly nice they are. And how not one person has been stand-offish or rude. What was I afraid of all those years? Why did I hide myself in corners, waiting for someone to rescue me from my self-imposed isolation?
The epiphany though, was that I finally realized, most of these women probably have those same feelings. And most of them are like me, waiting for someone to acknowledge them. Waiting for someone to choose them to be their friend. While I've found that they are not nearly as crippled with self-doubt as I am, they still have insecurities. It still feels like high school to some of us, walking into a class waiting for someone to say, hey come sit by me. Finally, out of necessity, I'm becoming that person.