Kids Can Be Funny and Cute

Okay, so last Tuesday Adam did something that made me really mad, and really worried, and really upset, and every other bad emotion. I wasted a lot of brain power envisioning him as a horrible adult. So now I will share with you a few pictures taken Sunday when he melted my heart not once, but twice, reminding me that he is not a psychopath in embryo, just a really cute little five-year-old.

Exhibit A:
This is the scene that greeted my eyes as I returned home from a nice long walk Sunday morning. What is it? On the left is a container with some tortilla chips in it and a sign, in Adam's kindergarten handwriting, that reads: "MOMNY EHT TUP" (translation: Put the money). On the right is one of Adam's shoes. This is Adam's version of a lemonade stand. He is hoping that a passerby will take a chip and put some change in his boot to pay for it. He spent the rest of the morning watching out the window and going outside every minute or two to check the boot for money.

Exhibit B:
After church, we came home and got into more comfy clothes. For Adam, this meant no clothes at all. Time passed. Dan called my attention to the window. There was Adam outside riding his bike in his underwear, with his sandals and helmet on. Well, at least he followed the family rules that you must be wearing shoes and head gear when you ride your bike.

Depression

Several weeks ago, I got a phone call asking me to teach a class on dealing with depression at an upcoming women's conference. I was diagnosed with depression ten years ago this coming fall. I have been doing a lot of reading in preparation for this lesson I'll be teaching. I also have been feeling more depressed than usual lately, and I keep wondering if this is so that I'll have some fresh examples to use in my class. In spite of everything I know about depression, I still can't seem to snap myself out of feeling this way. Not that I would expect anyone else to be able to do that, but who really holds themselves to the same charitable standard as their neighbor? Last Friday morning Adam was gone at a friend's house and as soon as I put Esther down for her morning nap, I curled up in my own bed. I was feeling really miserable, and I knew that to feel better, I needed to do some of the housework that was getting me down. That is why I headed straight to bed and called my mom. We talked, and I cried, and we laughed and by the end I was loading cups and plates and silverware into the dishwasher. I probably need to call her again, though, because as soon as I post this, I'm headed back to bed.