Oh Brother

So. Easter.

We made it through.

Actually it was a wonderful weekend. Easter Egg Hunts. Delicious Meals. Moving Church Services. Colorful Baskets and Tangled. Fun Times with Family. And finally, The Clothes.

Oh, I just LOVE Easter Outfits.

I would normally say dresses, but since we've added a boy into the mix, I have to change the feminine to Outfits.

And my children were not naked, like I thought they might be Friday afternoon when I realized it might be too late to find anything cute, and I really didn't have much time.

But thank God for moms.

Can I get an Amen?

Whew. And I don't mean Me-Moms. I mean, my mom. Without her, Stryker would have had to wear his new Manchester United Jersey Onezie from Miriah, which don't get me wrong, Zach was ALL for and said like five times that he thought that was a totally appropriate outfit for church.

I reminded him, that Man. U. jerseys are for the rest of the six days of the week. If that would so please my husband, I don't mind at all if Stryker wears the same shirt for every day of the week.

But Easter Sunday, he's going to have to look a little snappier.

So. Anyways, both Stryker and The Girls were dressed in beautiful dresses, hair did and white tights on and gleaming.

Seriously. We just had the best time. And we somehow managed to fit in a day with my family, church service, a day with Zach's family and our own special breakfast and Easter Egg Hunt.

First. Let me say that Zach makes every holiday so significant.

I am terrible at, I don't know what the right word is..... Forethought? Or, Making Big Deals Out of Things....?

Whatever it is. Zach's the perfect compliment to my negligence. Thank goodness for him.

But. I promise this Blog is not about him. I know how that grosses you all out.

This blog is about my brother.

My little brother.  Robert John William Cloyd to my mother. Rob to some. Robbie-Not-Bobbie to like his fourth grade school picture photographer and that haunted him for years. Oh man it used to make him so mad. Uncle Bob-Bob to the girls. And Robbie to me.

Who is not so... um.... little. But all the same, he made the trek from Wichita for Easter just to spend 36 hours with us and it was so good to see him and his girlfriend, whom I just love; so I thought I would dedicate a blog to him in a positive way.

Because, lets be honest, we don't always see eye to eye and I tend to complain about the poor kid more than I brag about him.

But I'm not going to do that either.

I realized something this weekend that kind of hit me like an epiphany.

It's something I should have known for years and years and like my whole life kind of years. But I didn't. And it hit me this weekend.

Are you ready for this?

We are the complete opposites of each other.

I know, right?


But here's the thing. Most of the time I realize how similar we are! I mean, seriously, we are like identical twins.

Robbie used to work at Dairy Queen growing up and one time I went through the drive-thru when he wasn't working and all of the people inside were like, "You're Rob Cloyd's sister aren't you?"

What gave it away?


But also, we have the same sense of humor (Even if mine is a little more tasteful....), we are both outgoing and.... hilarious. :)

But mostly.

We are different.

So. Let me count the ways.

He is Liberal. Like fights for liberalism and fights for Global Warming and Universal Health Care. (I know, what?)

I am not. Lets just sum my political views up by Right Wing, Conservative Republican. If you need me to throw in Gun-Toting, and Clinging To Religion and God, I can.

He is not religious.

I am.

He hates school. He hates the whole world of Academia.

I Love School. Like love love love school. I day dream about what it would be like to get to do homework again and listen to lectures. I get a fierce pang of jealous any time anybody (seriously it doesn't matter who) mentions school on Facebook, or tells me they are going back for such and such a degree. I don't even want to talk about the issues I have with Stella getting to go three times a week, while I sit at home doing yoga and trying to catch up on the house. Psssht.

Ok, those are obvious. And in my opinion have more to do with his teenage rebellion than inherent personality traits. And in all fairness, I tried the Liberal hat on for a while.

Lets get to the real issues.

He is the most touchy feel-y individual I have ever met. He hugs everybody. EVERYBODY. He is always touching people, strangers, friends, family, anybody. And he is so seriously all over his girlfriend, so much so that I feel like I can't even look at them sometimes. Like its awkward.

And I am the anti-touchy feel-y individual. I hugged a friend last week and felt like I needed to warn her first. I said, "Dear Friend, I am going to hug you." And then I did. And, then I felt bad for her because I knew I was no good at it. Lets face it. I don't even offer high fives. It's like an illness. I am affectionate with my kidlets

Sometimes I have to remind myself to hug my mother.

Robbie's a better person than me.


The way we give gifts. So different.

He gives these meaningless extravagant things that I would never even buy for myself. And I am all practicality and no-nonsense.

When we were kids, we used to pick out gifts for our parents together. And he would find all of these things that I would think were totally and utterly ridiculous. And I would sit there and ask him, "But what do they need?"

It wouldn't matter. Eventually we just stopped going into together and opted for our own personal gifts. Always the same thing though, I do something practical, he thinks of something sweet and thoughtful or funny.

This weekend he brought the girls presents. And he shows up with these ginormous stuffed animals. Like they are bigger than Scarlett. And they are neon and and fury and festive.

I would never buy them. Ever.

And not because the girls wouldn't love them, because they absolutely do, but because I think of everything else they could possibly need.

But that's why my kids love him so much! He's the fun uncle.

And when he finally gets around to having kids, I'm going to be the practical aunt.

Ugh. It sounds so boring.

He was literally born to work with the elderly. He is the sweetest, most caring guy when it comes to his job in a nursing home.

I was born for a different purpose.


That's my strength.

Don't ask me to do his job....


And finally.

My brother has the biggest number of best friends of anyone I know.

And they are like all seriously, his BEST friends. He has had this same group of besties since junior high. He wants like nine guys as groomsmen, the day he finally gets married and not one of those nine are even family. He's like the best friend magnet. He just gets close with people on a deeper level than I do.

I don't have a single best friend. In fact, usually if I ever do finally decide that someone is finally my best friend, that is the kill card and that friendship then dies on catastrophic levels.

I have the curse of the best friend.

I have close friends. Wonderful friends. But, trust me, you don't even want to be my best friend.

Robbie wants nine groomsmen.

I had four.

And I'm not close with a single one of those girls today. And I haven't been for five years.

I've not even been married for six.

Oh my word. We could not be more different.

And you'd think that after 25 years together, I would realize this.

Or at least after watching the Ying and Yang that Stella and Scarlett are, I would figure out something is different between a first and second born.

But it's taken me this long and a conversation with Robbie's girlfriend, Maggie to enlighten me.

Whew. At least I can be a little more forgiving with him now. He's just not as perfect as me, I can't expect him to figure things out like I do.



Phasellus facilisis convallis metus, ut imperdiet augue auctor nec. Duis at velit id augue lobortis porta. Sed varius, enim accumsan aliquam tincidunt, tortor urna vulputate quam, eget finibus urna est in augue.

1 comment:

  1. You forgot a few things:
    Rachel is a LIST person. "Tell me how, make me a list, don't leave anything out. Give me steps to follow." Repeat that until I get it.
    Rob: Don't tell me twice or you insult my intelligence. Don't tell me how. Just tell me what you want and let me figure it out. I can get it done.
    Rachel: "Is this how it's done?"
    Rob: "I can do this like it has never been done before!" A total "thinking outside the box" guy.
    Rachel: Rules are for a reason and meant to be followed by all.
    Rob: Rules are meant to be BENT - they are just guidelines for the majority.
    Stella: High chair tray is clean, neat, food separated: peas in a row, crackers stacked,etc.
    Scarlett: Paints the tray with her food, smearing everything together.
    Stella neatly organizes her things on the little table. Scarlett comes along and swipes it all off the table, thinking that is how it SHOULD be!
    Scarlett hugs extended family members she has never seen before. Stella hides behind her Mom.