Not one of the cool kids

Everyone is at BlogHer in San Francisco this week, except me. *sigh* Maybe next year. Last year it was in Chicago, and I could've gone easily, but I wasn't into blogging very much, and it didn't occur to me to go. I am so jealous of all the fun the cool kids are having without me! Boo hoo...

I'm having fun, though. I got to meet my new nephew and visit with his mom a little bit down in Indy the other night. It was nice to be able to go without my babies, so that I could really listen and focus and not worry about them getting snot all over the baby. He is so cute. Almost as cute as my kids, and I don't say that about just anyone!

Isn't it interesting how babies in your own family are always cuter than babies from other peoples' families? Is it just me? Or do other peoples' kids never quite look as lovely to you as kids in your own family? I think it's evolution, personally, and the fact that they resemble people you already love, so you feel an instant recognition and kinship with kids in your own family. Even though I'm not related to him by blood, I feel this with my new little nephew. I felt it with my niece and nephew (BJ's brother's kids) too. They looked like my kids (Dylan has the same hair as Mary Grace, and Mary Grace and Cassidy have almost the same face), and I felt an instant bond with them. I noticed it more when I saw them after I'd had my kids than I did before I had my kids. I think it probably changed the way I interact with them a little bit, too, from the first time I met them (before MG was born) to the second (when I was pregnant with Claire). The second time I felt a lot more responsible for them... I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but I felt more free to correct, and more free to play with them the second time. I felt like they were mine in a way that I didn't the first time. Am I just talking random nonsense, or have you experienced something like this, too?

Yesterday we did the "farm tour" and, as far as I know, since I left early, it was a huge success. I got home around 2, and Justine and the girlies and I went swimming at the Municipal Pool. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the pool in my town is amazing! It's huge, it's clean, it's cheap, and there are two baby pools (one is 1 foot deep, the other goes from 2 feet deep to 3 feet deep) so I can take the girlies on my own!! We had a really good time, and on the way to take Justine home, MG passed out in the car. Awesome. Swimming is good for wearing the prettybabies out!

Wore me out, too. I fell asleep last night while I was putting MG to bed. Whoops.

I think I'm finally caught up with all my blogs, but I've been neglecting my e-mail. Sorry. And I owe several people phone calls. I had planned to take care of all that after the kids were in bed last night, but I was unconscious. I had a lovely dream about our friend John Paul, who died in February of 2006, just before his 30th birthday. The song "Who Knew" by Pink makes me think of him, and I heard it yesterday. Even the video - they're at the fair and one of the best dates that JP and I ever had was when we went to the Grammaland County Fair and watched "The Glow" - they light up a bunch of hot air balloons at night. It's so pretty, and we had so much fun... 'Course, in the video the guy dies of a drug overdose, and that's not at all what happened to JP. JP died of hypothermia and drowning under mysterious circumstances (why was he there? How could he drown, he was on the swim team in high school! Why did he take off his clothes and get in the water when it was so cold outside? My personal theory is that he was trying to help someone else - maybe he thought he saw someone struggling in the water, or maybe there was an animal that was in trouble, and he got stuck and couldn't get back to shore, but we won't know in this life) so the part when she sings, "What happened?" just makes me cry. Anyway, in the dream he was gone. He could visit me, but no one else could see him. I was trying to convince everyone in the dream that he's still around, and that he's ok. I remember holding his mom by the shoulders and saying, in the dream, "He still loves you. Love never dies." His mom died before he did, though, so I don't know what that was all about.

The other part of the song that speaks to me is where she sings, "But time makes it harder, I wish I could remember..." I feel exactly that way. My memory is terrible, and it fades over time. I can't find a picture of him anywhere, and I'm starting to lose the details of his face.

Sometimes I think that my dreams really are visits from him. I've had similar dreams about my grandparents, too. Sometimes I think I'm just crazy. Allison DuBois, the one from Medium, wrote a book called, "We Are Their Heaven," and she said that these dreams really are communication from the dead. I guess if anyone would know, it would be her. Just one of the many questions I want answered when I die, about 100 years from now, hopefully.

Wow, this took a turn for the depressing. Sorry about that. It's just on my mind today. Maybe if I write it all out, I can let it go.