When I was a little girl, my mom took me to see E.T. I guess I was about six. I can remember being totally captivated by this little alien story, and falling in love with the characters of Henry Thomas and Drew Barrymore. And even though it took you on a roller-coaster of emotion, it ended happily and yet I still cried. And cried. And cried some more. For days and weeks after. I guess it was at that point in my life that I knew I was a crier. I cry at everything-movies, commercials, when people give me dirty looks...you name it. Ray often gets a chuckle out of my super-strong emotions, but secretly I think he's jealous. He, on the other hand, holds everything back and then just either blows up or turns it off-whether it's a person, an issue, whatever. If you wrong Ray, he's done with you. Forever. No matter who you are. I'm the opposite, I need everything to be ok, and I don't like when anyone's mad at me. And my kids definitely take after ME. They empathize with people (I'm not saying Ray doesn't empathize). They cry. They wear their emotions on their sleeves. I don't think that's a bad thing, I think it's healthy. They don't bottle things up and they aren't afraid to show their feelings.
OK, well, the reason I started writing this post is because last night the kids and I watched "Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey". It's about 2 dogs and a cat who get separated from their family. They decide to go find them and they have, well, an Incredible Journey. At the end, the older dog who barely makes the trip finds his boy, and the reunion was very emotional. By this time, Jackson had fallen asleep. But RJ, who I thought had drifted as well, started sobbing so loudly I actually thought he was hurt. After calming him down, I tried to find out what was going on and he said, "I'm just so happy Shadow found Peter. He was so worried about his little boy. These are happy tears Mom." Love. Him. So. MUCH.