We came, we camped, we kicked some butt

So - we Mormons are camping people. We liked it. It rained some - and that was even funnish (no matter how my cussing might have indicated otherwise.)

The miniMormons were good. Goodish. 1.0 and 2.0 were especially faaaaaantastic. 3.0 was sicker than a dog. She about coughed up a lung, but what's a vacation without the wonderment of if an ER trip is in one's future?

Now, I try to keep this blog anonymous. So there's quite a bit I can't post. Like, you know, my social security number. I'd love to show my creative projects, but many are out on display in our home, which would surely out me. (And my ward is having a competition to see who can find my blog first - little cuties.) But as none of my homeys hang in my master bath, it's kosher to show you that. And I've tried to find some anonymous-y trip pictures to share, since I can sense y'all are clamoring for the snapshots. (It's amazing how I read your mind, I know.)

So! Here's our site. We put those tents up ourselves. OH YES WE DID! Mr. Mormon was a Scout person, so he knows campy-ness. But I was still impressed that I helped (did I mention the rain?) without having a wicked potty mouth and without wrecking a tent!



On our trip, we did plenty of campy things. We looked at stars (it's scary that my children know more about constellations than I do), we watched movies outside at night, we swam and walked and played and went on a wagon ride.

We canoed. I think it's safe to share this completely unidentifiable photo of 3 Mormons canoeing. (2.0 and I kayaked.) Aren't they cute? Why do I ask you - you can't see 'em? But you get the gist....



The best part of camping, IMO, is the physical activity. Ft. Wilderness is a huge camp-place. Like, ginormous. And boy, we really worked hard getting around. We were all about communing with nature. And our golf cart helped us commune. It worked so hard toting us all around the park. Thanks Golfie! I surely lost a pound or two from your hauling my buns around.



All in all, camping was a blast. I wouldn't recommend taking a sick kid with you, but I WOULD recommend Ft. Wilderness. It is real as real can be camping. No one is setting up your tent for ya or cooking your dinner over the fire. But the golf cart alone makes it aaaaaaall worth it. 0-20 in like, 3 minutes!

Before and After

For as long as I can remember, when I am stressed, I need to do something creative. Poor Mr. Mormon has gotten roped into more of my hairbrained artistic schemes when I needed to decompress. I've done everything from gluing sewing patterns onto my walls to writing on the play room walls with rope to turning my kids' room into a finger paint chair-rail mural extravaganza.

This past week, I'd had it with my bathroom and decided that it needed a makeover. And I had the stress to do it. Oh yes I did!

The master bath has become a pit. Everyone is now using it. Why have more potties when we can all use one? sigh

So - here's the before picture. Now granted, it usually does look way cuter than this in that bathroom. But this picture was taken post 5 folks getting ready in there. And frankly, I wanted it to look pretty bad so the end result would be more impressive. That's the way I operate. I'm sneaky.



Ohhh - that's ugly. I know you are saying to yourself, "Show me more ugly, Mama! I love to see your funk!"

OK, you asked for it.



Embarrassingly bad, I know.

But 3.0 and I set to work to make some improvements. I didn't feel like painting. I've painted a lot of the upstairs, but I'm keeping downstairs all one color. So, I wanted color, but not from painting. What's a Mormon to do? You can see for yourself!




We started with a hint of yellow.



Added a wreath.



Rearranged and called it a day.

The kid toys have been contained in the tub and the towels have a lovely new basket home that makes life easier for everyone. And that big mirrored box -that is my new kick-arse jewlery box. Oh yes it is!! I was going to take a picture of what it looked like on the inside, but didn't want y'all casing my home to thief my Target jewelry.

I'd love to get a new mirror(s) and light fixtures, but my need for immediate satisfaction trumped the patience of waiting for something that was ordered. Well, that and, uuuuuum, I'm cheap. 7 feet of mirror isn't super cheap to replace - especially if you want something cuter than the bare bones yuck that I have.

So - that was my latest creative endeavor. I love it. It's not as girly in person as it looks here. The carpet on the floor is brown as brown can be. What says "manly" like a brown IKEA rug that was $14.99?

School is no place for meeeeee...

My child is living Chrysanthemum. She was so excited to go see her school today and I just know she loves her name. (OK, she doesn't really speak much, but if she did, I know she would tell me, "I looooooove being named 3.0!!!")

And today, a happy, confident 3.0 met Victoria.

dum dum duuuuuuuuuuum

3.0 has a particularly long name and when she was being introduced to the class, one of the aides said, "Can we shorten that to 3? Something a little simpler than 3.0?"

That aide is temporarily deadened to me. I channeled my inner Mrs. Chud and told her we usually shorten her name, but I did refrain from telling her to put her head up her butt, I mean, down. +3 points for Mama's good behavior. -1 point for Victoria-the-aide.

As luck would have it, my kid won't be hurt by that. Thank goodness for small favors.

Other than that, the class is darling and they already hired an aide in anticipation of 3.0 and another child's arrival. I was very impressed. The teacher was too, actually. She said she's seen fast hires, but she first saw 3.0's file last week and she has a new aide TODAY. There will be 10 kids in the class and there is one teacher and 2 aides. The class seemed calm and happy. And 3.0 was VERY thrilled to see she would get a backpack.

While 3.0 is scheduled for 2 days a week of speech therapy (30 minutes per session), she will be getting 4 days a week right now and that will probably stay that way. Also, they think, at this point, there will be room for her for the extended summer program. Her IEP doesn't say she needs it (or even recommend it) but the school said if there's room, they think she could benefit. They brought it up - not me - sort of feeling out if I was interested. +3 points for the school.

The teacher actually lives in my neighborhood and while I don't know her, she knows many of my neighbors. +2 points for the teacher. The school will let me pick 3.0 up early enough to get 1.0 and 2.0 on time, as well. +2 points for the school. The IEP team didn't mention that if I didn't choose to have 3.0 bussed, I'd need to reconvene an IEP meeting to change that. -5 points for the District. The school said they'll make it work if I need it faster. +2 points for the school.

The office staff was loooooovely and they had cute kid art hanging up, which always makes me so in love for a place (I have fancy-framed kid art on my walls, too!) +2 points for the school. They also had 2 of those creepy crying time-out dolls against a trophy case. -1 point for plain old poor taste.

3.0 seems excited and was asking everyone in class, "Wan-ta-be-friends?" +150000000 points for her. She is clearly the big winner.

The Borg

This is what I look like now.

I am on the phone so much that Mr. Mormon got me a handsfree-thing for my cell. I already have the headset for the home phone (which I never remember to use.)

Which begs the question - at what point are you so reliant on technology that your DNA has Radio Shack embedded in it?

A Three Hour Toooooooooour

Oh, I love my and Mr. Mormon's spontaneity. We are the kind of folks who will drop everything and jump on a cruise ship. We're the kind who will book said cruise with no babysitter, but just know we will find one. Mr. Mormon regularly wakes up and announces he's playing hookey from work and wants to know what fun thing we will be doing that day (which means the kids are now playing hookey from school.)

For the most part - it serves us well.

On Saturday, I decided it would be fun to go see the manatees. They're a couple of hours north of here and won't be here much longer with the warm weather we're having. Of course, I developed this idea as we were walking out the door to go get 2 of our kids from a gym sleep over and then we were straight on our way to Meet Your Teacher Breakfast at church. Mr. Mormon quickly googled where the heck we were headed, I threw some clothes in bags for kids, and we were off.

After the breakfast, we On Star-ed where we were headed. The first directions didn't sound right to Mr. Mormon based on what he had briefly read online. Mr. Mormon questioned Mr. On Star further, and quickly got us updated directions to the address Mr. Mormon remembered seeing online. I love that he's a genius who can remember what he barely glanced it.

And then we drove and drove and drove while On Star carefully lead us on. The kids slept - we chit chatted - the weather was gorgeous - and before we knew it, we'd arrived. It was different than I'd remembered. More, well, white-trashy. The entrance to the state park was a sand road and there were run down swing sets and trailers lining the park entrance. But who cared? We were going to see us some manatees!!!

We pulled up to the guard gate and the man came out (from his single wide trailer) to welcome us. He had discovered an inventive way to keep cool on a warm day!



He smiled and flashed us both his teeth and asked how long we'd be staying for. ???? He also explained he wasn't set up to run debit cards for our park entrance fee. He told us he'd just take whatever we had for admission.

0_0

I asked which way to the manatees and he said there were none there. He did point to a rickety wooden footbridge through a swamp that we could walk on for the low-low price of $26. We did end up braving the swamp bridge, and we lived. Although, several times, in my head, I calculated what I would do to keep from breaking my neck if said bridge collapsed. I think I saw a shrunken head between some cypress trees -and it's not every day you can say that!



We excused ourselves from the park (I use that term loosely), returned to the safety of our car and immediately called ON STAR. Seems Mr. Mormon, genius man that he is, remembered correctly what he had googled - the location and street names and all with no more than a fleeting glance! Only bad thing was that he'd googled Blue Springs Park, Inc. and we needed the state park. We were still a good 2 hours away from some manatees.

But - ya know - perky people such as ourselves will not have our happiness thwarted by driving 2 hours out to hillbilly heaven and not seeing anything but a swamp and a rickety footbridge! We reckoned we would still have a blast driving back home and (this was my vision) perhaps even stopping in random small towns along the way - exploring Florida Mormon-style. We'd eat at some hole in the wall restaurant and see the sites all the tourists miss, now that we were in "real" Florida.

First, we stopped at a little place folks around those parts hung out at called Mc-Donalds. It serves little papery burgers and chicken nuggets and has a playland - which makes miniMormons extremely happy. It's good to see how others live!

We kept cruising down the Ronald Reagan Turnpike and what to our wondering eyes did appear but....



That's right! A ginormous traffic jam. Ohhh - color us excited! We got to sit for over an hour on the road. The miniMormons took turns standing out of the sunroof trying to see if they could tell us how many cars ahead of us the jam was. Eventually, we took out blankets and sat on the pavement and read books. We watched the medi-vac arrive and everything. It was like a free show. The highlight of that adventure was Mama's McGyver-ing. Oh yes - I'm not just a mom - I'm an inventor!!

3.0, about 45 minutes into sitting in gridlock, announced she needed to make a potty. That's when my Mama-McGyver instincts took over. I cut holes out of the bottom of a Target bag, so that her legs could go through the holes and make a Target-bag "panty." Then I lined the bag with Kleenex and napkins. I announced it was time for her to tinkle in this make shift potty/diaper.

Dang I'm good.

Sometime post-turnpike stop and pre-home, we pulled up behind a car that had a Florida manatee license plate.

See - we saw a manatee after all!

We finally made it home about 8 pm with some doggie droppings left about the house to welcome us home. awwwww

So - that was my Saturday. It wasn't exaaaaaactly what I was hoping for, but truth be told, we had a blast. And I don't want to give up our spontaneity just because something didn't turn out perfectly. I loathe the planning part of trips (it stresses me out) and I'd rather deal with dramas as they happen then plan plan plan. It was nice to spend the day with my favorite people and who else can say they read Chrysanthemum on the Ronald Reagan turnpike asphalt?

Best friends

Every year on Valentine's Eve, I decorate my kids' doors like this.





They wake up and read those hearts, which tell them some of the many reasons why I love them

Awwww - aren't we Mormons so dang cute?

This morning, Mr. Mormon and I woke up to this.



Picture me weepy.

I LOVED IT! My middle miniMormon (2.0) had this little surprise completed pre-6:30 am. She cut up hearts (in the laundry room, so she wouldn't wake anyone up with the light) and wrote on them why she loves her parents.

Yes - I know, I have the best kids in the entire world. But wait - there's more.

Her hearts said things like, "You make me happy," "I love you," and "You SHINE!" I never pictured myself as luminescent, but groovy - I'll take it. My favorite heart said, "You are my best friend."

I hope I am my kids' best friend. Now, I know that's not popular to say, but hear me out.

There's this rationale I've never completely bought in to, but I'm sure I've uttered something like unto it because it's a popular sentiment and heck, I like to be cool. The sentiment is effectively that you can't be a parent AND a friend to your child.

I'd like to challenge that. It's probably an aversion to the semantics, but I don't like the phrase. I hope to be a parent and my child's best friend.

A best friend is a precious thing. I'm not sure my girls will always call me their best friend - I'm not even sure after today 2.0 will consider me her best friend, but I hope she will. A best friend will tell you loads of nice things about yourself and will be your confidante. But a best friend will also tell you the harsh stuff. My good friend was recently playing the cello at church. She said to me, "I know everyone will tell me it was great - but we're close. Could you please tell me the honest truth if you hear a bad note - I keep messing up in this one spot (blah blah blah)" She wanted the truth - she wanted to know if it was noticeable. A best friend will tell you when you're messing up, but they'll still love the performance.

A best friend will tell you, "You need the Mandy Moore haircut" and will still love you when you don't get it and will be just as excited when you DO get it. A best friend will tell you you need bangs and highlights, but will understand you can't keep up with highlights right now and will love your too dark hair and shiny forehead.

A best friend will tell you you're acting like a twerp or that you need to work harder in an area. S/he also won't freak when you mess up, but won't sugar coat it, either.

A best friend can give you the real truth about yourself and you know they love you for it or in spite of it.. So, I hope I am my kids' best friend. Or if not me, maybe Mr. Mormon. He's a good best friend to have around. He doesn't need highlights and his forehead is just fine. For now.

Tell me whatcha want, whatcha really really waaaant...

I love the song Dream Big. I found it on a couple's blog - they are trying to adopt and from all the looks of it, will just make wonderful parents. Kudos to them. Since I heard it there, I've added it to my own playlist and am starting to think of it as my anthem. Anthem of the month that is. I'm fickle - I know it will change.

Anyhoo - I like the message of the song that you can dream big things. Really - for the most part, what does it hurt to dream big?

Sometimes, living life and being productive hinders you from pursuing your own dreams. College loans and marriage and kids and health issues and spouse concerns and job struggles sometimes cause us to adjust our dreams and plans a smidge. And frankly, that's as it should be. If we all did exactly what we wanted all the time, we'd not only be selfish, but we'd be denying ourselves the right to a mid-life crisis.

Most of us haven't dreamt anything huge since we were little. I was thinking back today on what I thought my life would be when I was older - and what I thought I'd be doing. I've been thinking about my 12-(or so) year-old-self's dream life.

I thought I'd be a concert pianist - or some type of musical performer.

I thought my husband would dote on me and treat me like a queen and I'd be the envy of all my friends.

I believed I'd have this fabulous musical career in the evening, after tucking my gorgeous and well-mannered (and slightly above-average) children into bed every night. Their father would read in the study while I counted the standing ovations.

I imagined I'd be a philanthropist of some sort. I'd use all my gobs of money to help others.

I thought I'd have a nanny. (And I hoped she wouldn't woo my husband while he was reading in the study during my ovations!)

Remembering what I wanted when I was a child, I realize, goshdarnit, I have a lot of it!! I'm not a musical performer, but it didn't take me long to know I did NOT want that! ARGH - what was I thinking? It's not all Liberace and Celine Dion. It's a lot of nightclubs and smoke in your face.

I have a fab husband and great kids. I'm living the dream there. There's no study - but we DO have bookshelves from IKEA and a pool table. Close enough.

I don't write cardboard checks out to universities and have hospital wings named after me, but I do volunteer. Right now, it's just people in my ward and at my children's school, but I am using my time to help make others feel glad. And that's very right for me.

I don't have a nanny, but I do watch Super Nanny.

I'll try to think of other ambitions I had as a child and see if they've come to fruition. So many are stuffed deep down, it's hard to remember, really. But all in all, it's a good life with a lot of "dreams come true." You? What were your hopes and wishes as a kid?

And now in my copious spare time...

...I get to add 3-year-old school to my insane schedule.

3.0 (our youngest miniMormon) qualified to attend a special preschool to address some of her "issues." It's weird to feel relief and regret simultaneously. Of course, I wonder if I "did" something to her. Too much TV? Poor nutrition? I let her sleep a ton as a baby - I probably could have been working with her more during those times.

But however Mother Nature and I flocked her up, she's already flocked - but the good news is - there are (theoretically) un-flockers who will de-flock-i-fy her. We'll see!

Of course, I worry about what will happen in this class. Who else will be in there? Will she learn bad habits? What do we do if there is no improvement? How do I get her to wear a backpack? How do I explain to someone who doesn't really understand that I'm not leaving her forever, just dropping her off for the day? I wasn't really planning on sending my 3-year-old off to school - but here she goooooooooes.

I'll try to muster some happiness for the first day of school pictures for her. She'll have no clue what is going on, and I'll make a perky scrapbook page pretending we were all just thrilled.

Flock it all to heck.

The good news? I'll have more time in my day to do more church crap. yay

I'm glad we know what's going on. I'm trying to focus on the gladness.

The other thing I'm "glad" about - well, "glad" isn't the best word... I'm glad I kept going with this and stuck to my guns that 3.0 isn't functioning in the world like other kids. While it stinks to be right, I was right when it counted. Last night, I found myself being snarky to a couple of women who had insisted to me that 3.0 was just fine and I was overreacting. They told me about a year ago, when I tried to open up to them, that she was probably spoiled as the baby and that dealing with her was like parenting other "normal" children and that I just didn't know how badly other moms had it. The insinuation was that I was out of touch.

Now, 3.0 will go to their children's school and they told me they'll wave to her - they know where those special angels are with their special angel playground. They look so cute and those women have other friends with kids in that class, so it's like we're all practically related now. I'm not the only parent with a special angel that they know - they know gobs of special angels and their parents! Of course, they've told me how wretched those angels are, but have forgotten what they shared before.

Not being bitter to everyone who told me she was fine will be a struggle. I have to remember that I hate the delays and to be angry at/about them and to not be angry at well-meaning people.

I think 3.0 will be cool in the end. I think we can get her to where she needs to be so she can function and connect with people. I was right that she needed some help, and I hope I am right about this.

And you?

I went to the grocery store 3 times today, and still don't have any dinner for tomorrow and am running out of paper towels. (In the Mormon home, paper towels are big-deal essentials.)

Don't you love those days?

Please, someone else tell me that you've been to the grocery store multiple times in one day...all for essential things...

I'm not sure if I'm losing my mind or am disorganized. Or perhaps, a smidge of both?

I think I can I think I can...

Mr. Mormon and I are in some serious need of r and r. (No - not "rhythm and rioting" - "rest and relaxation"!) Vacations are pricey and we are already going on a few this year. But we wanted to do something now. Something quick, inexpensive, and that will bond the family in memories is what we've had in mind.

While we are so in love for cruises, there's only so many of those one can do in a year. And it's still a little nippy in Florida some days to have a beach getaway. (Although last week, it was 87!!)

What's a family of vacation-starved, fiscally-minded Mormons to do?



thud

That's right. We're a-camping.

We are thinking the purchase of all the equipment counts as shoring up our emergency preparedness materials. And we'll be camping at Ft. Wilderness (out at Disney), so if (when) I cannot figure out how to cook over a fire, I can take a quick drive to tourist-ville and commandeer us some grub.

We got tents and lanterns and things last night, and frankly, if the kind of folks who shop in the Wal Mart camping area share a site with us, I will run for my life. I've never seen so many tattoos, mullets, and ammunition requests in all my days. It was like being at a Legion. (Juuuuuust kidding, Drama - seeing if you're paying attention, there!)

If anyone has any great camp-food recipes, I'm game. I figured one day I can make chili and another can be tin-foil dinners. We'll have a grill, so some grilled chicken or burgers sounds about right, too.

Although I've become as citified as a girl can be, I did grow up camping, and I hope it will come back to me. I used to love waking up on a mountain in some far-away city and hearing everyone start up their day. I guess we'll see if I've got it in my to re-commune with nature. If nothing else, the car has A/C and XM radio.

My edict to women everywhere...

Girls,

For pity's sake - quit standing up to tinkle in public restrooms. Effective immediately.

Men tinkle standing up. We do not. Commit that to memory.

Some of us have to use public restrooms with 3 little kids. And we're tired of having to wipe your urine off of the seat pre-potty. It's gross. I don't leave my tinkle for you - please don't leave yours for me. I'm a real person coming in behind you, and it's not cool to clean up your business.

Does anyone know of a woman who has caught something from sitting on the seat? I don't want to hear that your Aunt Gertie's hairdresser knew a woman who got cooties from the can. I mean - have YOU or someone you personally know gotten the creeping crud from a public potty?

I didn't think so.

The liners are there for your pleasure. Use them. Or coat that bad boy in tp. But do not hover. Say no to squatting. Sit down, relax, and worry about something else...like how you are going to get out of the bathroom without touching the door handle.

Thank you for your compliance.

The perks of On Star

I love On Star. It's safe to say, I might be smitten with my new car and especially with On Star.

The On Star people are magic. One push of a button, and I can talk to someone hands free - and they will not hang up until I say they are dismissed. They'll stay on the phone with me all day if I want. Can you say that about the 9-1-1 operator? Nope. They'll hang up on your sorry butt eventually (don't ask how I know) but these On Star folks, they'll talk to ya until you feel thoroughly bonded in friendship.

Frankly, I know the On Star representatives love me. They take the time to talk to me in the car (see above paragraph) and are patient giving me directions over and over every day (can I help I don't know where anyone lives?) They ask how the weather is and when the children ask if they live in the sky, they are polite to them. They laugh when the children burp loudly at them and say, "Excuse me." And they can tell me where the nearest Cracker Barrel is once I get past the airport in Miami. Who else can do that for me?

I love that turn by turn directions pop up for me to read and even show me which way is right or left. It is hard for me to always remember my right from my left, so I appreciate the cute little arrow symbol. And I love how the directions are politely read to me, as well. It is a far cry from the way I used to read directions to Mr. Mormon ("You were supposed to turn back THERE, idiot!") The On Star navigational man has never called me an idiot. He just says, "Make your first available safe and legal u-turn." I've learned better communication skills from him.

I love my car's sensored lights and dual sun roofs (rooves? Is "roof" made plural like "hoof" - no idea...) I love remote start and that the radio keeps playing even when I turn the key off until I get out of the car, 4 way heated seats and tri-zone A/C...but most of all - I love On Star. I love the push button-ness of it and the little blue and white symbol. And I love that when my oldest child wants to stay in the car and read Harry Potter rather than come into Publix with me, I can lock her in, remote start the car so she has A/C, and say, "If someone tries to abduct you - press the On Star button and scream bloody murder!!!"

It's the little things in life....'tis a gift to be simple...

My husband does not suck eggs.

OK, I'm not going to list all the reasons why at this time....but I'd like to announce to the blogosphere that I have the best husband in the world.

I've been aching and feeling like crap the past couple of days and he took the day off to fill not one but 2 food orders with me. And he took the kids with us so that we could teach them where our fast offering funds go and how the Bishop's Storehouse works (which, btw, is really stinking cool!)

He shopped for these families - loaded both orders up in the car in the 80+ degree heat (with no help) - helped a little old man load up his car as well - and then helped me deliver one 2-week order for a family of 3 that was on the third floor of an apartment building.

Oh yes - he's the man.

I hear other wives say their husbands don't notice their needs or "get" them - but I have to say, I can't complain that way. The man saw I was in pain, brought me Advil, and took off for the day to help me with a physically strenuous task. He rocks. He even let me get a nap in.

This post will garner no responses, but you can know I think you're purty cool....for a boy. Here's to you, ya -

ahhh - What Would Hinckley Do?

I loved this little ditty from Stake Conference this month.

Some temple square workers were being picketed and hollered at by a woman. She kept yelling to the tourists for them to stay away as the Mormons were the church of the devil.

One tourist responded, "This isn't the church of the devil. I'm a member of the church of the devil, and this isn't it."

snicker

Anyway - gotta love those Westboro-folks. Equal opportunity funeral picketers.


The tens of thousands of people expected to flock downtown for President Gordon B. Hinckley's funeral Saturday likely will want to avoid the southwest corner of North Temple and State Street.
Salt Lake City officials said the Westboro Baptist Church has applied for a permit for a "religious demonstration" on the corner, just one block east of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Conference Center, where President Hinckley's funeral will be held. The permit was in the process of being approved Wednesday afternoon, said Shawn McDonough, the city's special events administrator.

A handful of members of the church, based in Topeka, Kan., plan to stage a quiet protest during the funeral, displaying picket signs criticizing the late LDS Church leader for being a "lying false prophet" and "leading millions of people astray," said Shirley Phelps-Roper, Westboro Baptist Church spokeswoman and daughter of Pastor Fred Phelps.

Westboro Baptist Church members have picketed several military funerals and other memorial services, saying that the war in Iraq and tragedies such as the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks are God's punishment for the nation's tolerance of homosexuality.

Phelps-Roper also criticized President Hinckley for being too accepting of homosexuals, accusing him of having an "ambiguous voice" about the gay lifestyle rather than taking a firm stand against it.

Be grateful, and above all - be faithful

Gosh, I will miss him so much.