I’m okay.

I’m okay today and really, thanks for your concern lately, but I really am okay–have been for quite awhile…promise xoxo

Today though, let me tell you why I’m extra, for realsies OKAY! Oh… I GET to tell you why….

I am crazy in love with my three buddies. Today, I looked at Ryan as we sat on the couch talking and had one of “those” moments. You know, the ones that only mothers and the world’s greatest nanny’s get. Moment spoke to me, and here’s what she said, “This child here is yours, and you get to love him.” So I did. and I hugged him and squeezed him and told him I loved him,

————–THIS MUCH!!!—————-

And then I loved him more, and it was something fierce.

So, yes, today, I am okay!

And Keri woke up and I snuggled her tightly under the blanket amidst morning breath and a rat’s nest that we call “Squirrely.” And then came her surprise, a PURPLE brush.

“Keri, is purple your favorite color?”

<Keri sighs> “Mm-icole! How many times do I have to tell you, my favorite color is all the colors of the rainbow?”

“Oh…right, sorry! Well do you like the purple brush? Because I got you something else purple…”

“Woah, those are feathers… for my hair?!”

and today, that made me okay. extra, specially and delightfully OKAY.

Okay, making french toast with little cough germs spread amongst the batter literally right into the batter because of insistent help. Okay, with a little spilled milk. Okay, with sibling rivalry. Okay, with tattles. Okay, with smiles definitely okay with those. and yes even okay explaining that though other kids are saying the f-word on the bus and teaching you hand gestures doesn’t mean say it, do it. Ryan is six! <forcing myself off of soapbox before I even step on …NOW>

Ethan woke up with the worlds GREATEST bed head. THE GREATEST. Oh, I’m mad that I didn’t take a picture. I was too busy shaking this love off of my leg. Literally. I walked around with ~~Ethan~~ <insert some dog’s name that I can’t remember here> attached to my leg. And I’d look down as he’d look up and we’d smile.

And I’m okay, still. I’m okay with him coughing in my face (though also throughouly disgusted) as he holds my head in his little cold hands to give me an eskimo kiss.

I really am okay. Because how can I not be with blessings like these?

This morning we played a game. It was called “Patend You Are Sleeping” Can I just say that is so far my absolute favorite game to play at 7:57 a.m.?! I like that one and the “whisper game”…which is self explanatory. If you don’t get it….wow….. nevermind.

Some days are loud. Hah! Most days are loud…with live reenactments of Puss and Boots and me having to scream over giggles and cries to say “BREAKFAST! RYANNNNNN BREAKFAST!!!!!” or “ETHAN, NOOOOOO– you cannot spear your sword into Keri’s butt…” but these last three months between the whisper games and sleeping games, the circumstances have gifted me with a lot of contentment, devotion, and some of the sweetest affection I’ve ever been so blessed to give and to receive.

And it’s all okay.

And OF COURSE I’m okay with all the creativity– all the “pa-tends” and “you’re the mama” and “I’m the cat” even though being mama to cat is about the hardest thing I’ll ever do…..

I’m okay as ~~I sit and read~~ Keri sits and “reads” The Giving Tree and The Berenstain Bears. I’m okay with her helping me out in this other part of my life. THIS. My notes to you. So here:

“Keri, you are so creative, you should be a writer… write stories…. Did you know I’m a writer?”

“You are?!”

“Yeah!! Want to write with me?!”

“Do we get to use your ‘caputer’?”

Here’s what I said….

She types slow… but she types well!

My Little Writing Buddy from Nicole Paullin on Vimeo.

my loudness may have overshadowed her adorable-ness…read the transcript here. and when you do, appreciate the grammar mishaps and smile because a four year old was typing and she was just too anxious to “get it on to the ‘innernet'” 🙂 have I mentioned that I love her?!

Be okay with me, because this love is too great. Stop and love with some vicious love, smile with some intense happiness, and eskimo kiss with a zealous passion. Be silly, be you.

Go on, snuggle in the morning breath next to you, squeeze your kids whether they’re 7 months or 17 years, and really, love them ————–THIS MUCH!!!—————-.

Let Moment speak to you too, and hear her say, “This child here is yours. Here. Now. And you GET to LOVE!” So love.