Mission: DEPRESSING

I'm pretty sure I broke some sort of rule that, apparently, everyone knows but me. Because of my last post, approximately 900 people have told me that they're never having kids. So, I'm thinking that maybe the reason why no one tells the truth about pregnancy is because then no one would ever have children. Ever again. Ever. So, OOPS! My bad! You can blame the upcoming population decline entirely on me. I'm standing by my previous statements. Pregnancy sucks a fat one.
But anyway, on to a topic that DOESN'T include boobs, vaginas, pee or an overactive fetus.
My little brother, Tyson left in October to go to the Missionary Training Center (or the MTC, for you Mormons!) to prepare to.. well, go on a mission! It's basically a place for these cute little 19 year old boys to learn how to teach and preach. And be grown-ups. And sometimes learn a language (Tyson learned to speak Spanish fluently in like, 3 weeks, no joke). After training there for about 2 months, he was sent off to Arkansas (which is really the only reason my mother hasn't died from worry yet- she was convinced he'd be going to some foreign country where they don't use utensils and everyone's genitals are exposed.. although, for all I know, that could be the very definition of Arkansas). It just so happens that he arrived the very same week that this happened. And now my mother is scrambling to get the phone number of the "Arkansas Scientists" to make sure that there's nothing toxic in the air or the water that could kill her little son, and I'm like, first of all I'm not sure there's a 1-800-Arkansas-Scientists number, and second, if there really was something like that going on, they wouldn't need a worried Utah mother to call them up and get their asses moving. Plus, it's probably no big deal, just the apocalypse or something, sheesh.
But I guess he lives in total ghetto-ville. Ever hear of Rogers, Arkansas? Yeah, me either. According to my brother, he's smack in the middle of total poverty, filth, and crime. He lives in the backyard 'shed' of a member with 3 other missionaries and, like any other dumb teenager, adores it. Granted, he's having a really hard time being away from everyone, especially over the holidays, but he's passing the time by keeping himself super busy doing things like tracting and naming the chickens at the farm next door. Pilgore and Gargamoth are the only ones he's talked to us about so far. I'll keep you updated on any other chicken names. Because they're clearly insane.
ANYWAY, I miss my brother like absolute crazy. He still has another 22 months, and we only get snail mail and an email once a week. The phone is 100% off limits, unless it's Christmas or Mother's Day and even then, he doesn't get hours to talk. But if you know me at all, you know how close I am with my brother. He's my only sibling and my best friend. I've spent more than my share of time crying on the couch because I MISS him, or I accidentally called to tell him something hilarious and got his depressing voice mailbox. But I try to write him as much as I can, and Jeff and I have already sent him box upon box of Mt. Dew in the mail, which I hope he appreciates. Shiz ain't cheap.
But there's an even more depressing element. He will miss the birth of my son, his first nephew. The little guy who will make him an Uncle. Our baby will be a year and a half old when Tyson meets him. BUT, we plan to make sure we talk a lot about Ty and show the baby plenty of pictures so that the second he comes home, they can be best buds.
Aaaaand, I've hit my limit. If I talk about this any more, I will cry! Thanks, progesterone. 

I miss my baby brother :(