It's a good thing that I'm basically made of stone. We've tried to teach our kids to talk nicely to each other and use kind words but that has not taken root in our youngest as well as we had hoped. He's the first of my kids to ever say, "I hate you," and often, when he's upset, Hewitt will let me know that I'm "the worst mom." He's also the first kid of mine to cry about going to school because, "I just want to stay with you! I love you so much!" so I take it all with a grain of salt.
Last night I didn't start dinner at home and our evening was full. Jeremiah and Isaac went to the Bishop's Storehouse to help stock shelves and the rest of the crew and I went to pack meeting. Scouts wasn't done until 8 and we still hadn't had dinner so I swung by the ever-so-handy Little Caesar's to pick up a pizza. The kids were elated.
On the way home Hewitt said, "Mom, that's so nice of you to get us pizza. Next time that I say you're the worst mom just remind me that one time you bought me a pizza for dinner."
"How about the next time you're about to call me the worst mom you stop and think of all the nice things I do for you?"
"Oh, that's a good idea!"
Clearly the thought had never occurred to him.
Friday, October 16, 2015
Monday, May 11, 2015
To Jack, On Your Eighth Birthday
Or thereabouts.
I'm going to be honest Jack, I'm not sure what to say to you. You have changed so much in this last year that I almost wonder if I birthed twins; one of which I raised until age 7 only to be switched with the other child that I feel you've become. Not long ago I wrote about my concern for you. Now I feel like you are my first child to "get it."
When you come home from school you're very good about doing your homework and chores before you ask to play with friends. You're the only child in the house who regularly wakes up to his own alarm clock and it's not unusual for me to get up in the morning to find you dressed and sitting at the table eating the breakfast you've prepared for yourself. (Granted, it's either cereal or toast, but your older brother lies on the couch waiting to be served and your sister stays in bed until I drag her out most days.)
You are by far my most social child. I don't think there's a day that you don't ask to play with a friend or they ask to play with you. Our doorbell is constantly being rung on your account. You seem to be a good friend to the kids in the neighborhood and it was fun to see you surrounded by them at your birthday party.
While I am grateful for it, I find it highly comical that one of your favorite people is your primary teacher, Sid. Every time you get a hold of you father's mobile phone you start a text conversation with him. He's been a good friend to you and I think it makes him feel pretty special to be admired by you as well.
You're a funny kid. Your humor is generally natural and without pretense. Often your manner is more amusing to me than anything. You like to play it cool and nonchalant; although you may not be fooling as many as you think.
This also goes for your attitude. You like to appear tough on the outside, but really you're a caring kid who still loves to have his back and belly scratched before going to bed at night. When I have babies at the house I can always tell when you play with them because you love to make them laugh and smile.
This birthday was of special importance because you were able to be baptized. Given how funny you can be - and also how differently you've behaved in the past - I've been pleasantly surprised at how seriously you took this ordinance. At your interview with the bishop he gave a you remembrance book for your baptism. That book was proudly displayed by you to everyone who came to our house after you received it. You've taken the time to record memories and moments from your baptism in your book, making you the only child so far to not leave it blank.
I really, truly love you Jack. Your crooked smile melts my heart and I love looking into your big, hazel eyes. You are a blessing in my life and important to our family.
Happy birthday, you little stinker.
Love, Mom
I'm going to be honest Jack, I'm not sure what to say to you. You have changed so much in this last year that I almost wonder if I birthed twins; one of which I raised until age 7 only to be switched with the other child that I feel you've become. Not long ago I wrote about my concern for you. Now I feel like you are my first child to "get it."
When you come home from school you're very good about doing your homework and chores before you ask to play with friends. You're the only child in the house who regularly wakes up to his own alarm clock and it's not unusual for me to get up in the morning to find you dressed and sitting at the table eating the breakfast you've prepared for yourself. (Granted, it's either cereal or toast, but your older brother lies on the couch waiting to be served and your sister stays in bed until I drag her out most days.)
You are by far my most social child. I don't think there's a day that you don't ask to play with a friend or they ask to play with you. Our doorbell is constantly being rung on your account. You seem to be a good friend to the kids in the neighborhood and it was fun to see you surrounded by them at your birthday party.
While I am grateful for it, I find it highly comical that one of your favorite people is your primary teacher, Sid. Every time you get a hold of you father's mobile phone you start a text conversation with him. He's been a good friend to you and I think it makes him feel pretty special to be admired by you as well.
You're a funny kid. Your humor is generally natural and without pretense. Often your manner is more amusing to me than anything. You like to play it cool and nonchalant; although you may not be fooling as many as you think.
This also goes for your attitude. You like to appear tough on the outside, but really you're a caring kid who still loves to have his back and belly scratched before going to bed at night. When I have babies at the house I can always tell when you play with them because you love to make them laugh and smile.
This birthday was of special importance because you were able to be baptized. Given how funny you can be - and also how differently you've behaved in the past - I've been pleasantly surprised at how seriously you took this ordinance. At your interview with the bishop he gave a you remembrance book for your baptism. That book was proudly displayed by you to everyone who came to our house after you received it. You've taken the time to record memories and moments from your baptism in your book, making you the only child so far to not leave it blank.
I really, truly love you Jack. Your crooked smile melts my heart and I love looking into your big, hazel eyes. You are a blessing in my life and important to our family.
Happy birthday, you little stinker.
Love, Mom
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
To Isaac, On Your Twelfth Birthday
Ask any parent and they'll tell you that time seems to go by faster each year their children grow. My theory is that we always remember the moment our child came into the world. It is so imprinted on our hearts and crystallized in our memories that it seems it could have happened only a moment ago. It then seems impossible that twelve years have passed since you entered this life.
When I was expecting you, my aunt, Pat, told me how wonderful it was to have a baby in May, because that's when you were due. She told of how nice it was to have a little baby in tow as the world outside was fresh with new flowers and sunlight streaming in through the window; she painted a lovely picture. But, you see, she lives in California, not good ol' Idaho. And then you decided to come early. The day you were born there were giant, wet snowflakes gliding to the ground out the hospital windows. Interestingly, there have only been a couple of your birthdays since then that haven't also brought snow.
You are one intelligent boy. You came into this world seeing adults as your peers and have always behaved accordingly. Consequently, many adults love you. Over the years the primary teachers at church have commented on how well spoken you are and your future leaders tell me they can't wait to have you. You're school teachers love you, they even negotiated a trade from fifth-grade to sixth-grade over which of them got to have you in their class. Although you are bright and get along well with adults you have no problem making friends your own age.
A big part of your friendships has to do with your personality and sense of humor. You and your friends share jokes and puns, create Lego structures, and build in virtual games. You love to laugh, and up until a years or so ago, would sit at the dinner table and say, "Comedy, anyone?" It is no coincidence that Isaac means "laughter" or "he will laugh." We love your humor, especially when it is impromptu and witty. Recently you have enjoyed reading Garfield comic books and then trying to include their antics in our life at home. Just a couple of weeks ago you awarded Hewitt an invisible trophy for his gullibility.
You are an avid reader. While I was at the school for a book fair I told a friend I couldn't keep enough books in the house for you. The school librarian happened to be nearby and interjected, "I can't keep enough books in the library for Isaac!" Your reading level currently topped out the testing criteria, placing you at a college reading level (for the last two years.) However high your abilities, you've been wise in the books you choose, selecting books within your maturity range. Dad and I have suggested several books for you to read, but unless they're required for school, you prefer to choose your own material, often opting for fantasy and science fictions books.
This birthday is special for you as you will be eligible to receive the priesthood. You've been preparing and it's gratifying as your mother to see your excitement and willingness to take on this responsibility. You have a desire to do what is right that I hope will strengthen as you continue to progress in this life. Dad and I are thankful that despite your intelligence you have remained teachable. You are a special young man with divine potential. We hope that as we guide you and are here for you that you will realize who you are and what you were sent here to do. We love you so much, Isaac. Happy birthday.
Love, Mom & Dad
When I was expecting you, my aunt, Pat, told me how wonderful it was to have a baby in May, because that's when you were due. She told of how nice it was to have a little baby in tow as the world outside was fresh with new flowers and sunlight streaming in through the window; she painted a lovely picture. But, you see, she lives in California, not good ol' Idaho. And then you decided to come early. The day you were born there were giant, wet snowflakes gliding to the ground out the hospital windows. Interestingly, there have only been a couple of your birthdays since then that haven't also brought snow.
You are one intelligent boy. You came into this world seeing adults as your peers and have always behaved accordingly. Consequently, many adults love you. Over the years the primary teachers at church have commented on how well spoken you are and your future leaders tell me they can't wait to have you. You're school teachers love you, they even negotiated a trade from fifth-grade to sixth-grade over which of them got to have you in their class. Although you are bright and get along well with adults you have no problem making friends your own age.
A big part of your friendships has to do with your personality and sense of humor. You and your friends share jokes and puns, create Lego structures, and build in virtual games. You love to laugh, and up until a years or so ago, would sit at the dinner table and say, "Comedy, anyone?" It is no coincidence that Isaac means "laughter" or "he will laugh." We love your humor, especially when it is impromptu and witty. Recently you have enjoyed reading Garfield comic books and then trying to include their antics in our life at home. Just a couple of weeks ago you awarded Hewitt an invisible trophy for his gullibility.
You are an avid reader. While I was at the school for a book fair I told a friend I couldn't keep enough books in the house for you. The school librarian happened to be nearby and interjected, "I can't keep enough books in the library for Isaac!" Your reading level currently topped out the testing criteria, placing you at a college reading level (for the last two years.) However high your abilities, you've been wise in the books you choose, selecting books within your maturity range. Dad and I have suggested several books for you to read, but unless they're required for school, you prefer to choose your own material, often opting for fantasy and science fictions books.
This birthday is special for you as you will be eligible to receive the priesthood. You've been preparing and it's gratifying as your mother to see your excitement and willingness to take on this responsibility. You have a desire to do what is right that I hope will strengthen as you continue to progress in this life. Dad and I are thankful that despite your intelligence you have remained teachable. You are a special young man with divine potential. We hope that as we guide you and are here for you that you will realize who you are and what you were sent here to do. We love you so much, Isaac. Happy birthday.
Love, Mom & Dad
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
An Open Letter
Dear Young Man Outside of WinCo,
I still think of you from time to time. Oh yes, though nearly eight years have passed, I remember you.
I remember seeing you by the entrance as I approached from the parking lot. I remember watching you try to get the attention of customers as they entered the building. And I remember how each of them passed you by. I remember that you looked a little rough and each time you were ignored you seemed upset, though not offended.
I remember your respectful address, "Excuse me, Miss?" I remember considering ignoring you like the others. But I stopped.
Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was pity after seeing you repeatedly ignored by your fellow man. Either way, I stopped. And then my lesson began.
You asked if I would like a $20 WinCo credit coin. I'm not sure how it came to be in your possession, if you cashed a check, had returned items, I don't know. I remember the feeling of surprise that you were offering something. I asked you if you could use it, surely there was something inside you might need. I remember you placing it in my hand and saying, "You can have it." I said a quiet thank you and then you were gone.
I still wonder why you chose to give it away. We were at a grocery store! Surely there was something inside that you needed. Everyone needs food! I even asked if you could just use it for junk food; soda, donuts, jelly beans, whatever. There had to be something that you would eat. But you gave it away.
What you didn't know is that I was pregnant. You didn't know that this was my third child. You didn't know that I was staying at home while my husband worked and went to school and we were basically living on student loans. You didn't know that weeks earlier we had been in a car accident that totaled our car. You didn't know any of this. How could you?
The bigger concern was what others didn't know. They didn't know that a young man who looked different from them had something to offer. His outstretched hand intended to give, not to receive. They didn't know that although they ignored him he remained willing to give. They didn't know he was going to change my life that day.
That $20 coin did more than help with groceries that day. It taught me that all have something to offer. And while I was the recipient that day I, too, have something to offer. It won't always be money but I can give of myself. I can look inward, past the outward appearance and see that there is good in others. I can sacrifice something of mine to share with another.
I can try to be like you.
I still think of you from time to time. Oh yes, though nearly eight years have passed, I remember you.
I remember seeing you by the entrance as I approached from the parking lot. I remember watching you try to get the attention of customers as they entered the building. And I remember how each of them passed you by. I remember that you looked a little rough and each time you were ignored you seemed upset, though not offended.
I remember your respectful address, "Excuse me, Miss?" I remember considering ignoring you like the others. But I stopped.
Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was pity after seeing you repeatedly ignored by your fellow man. Either way, I stopped. And then my lesson began.
You asked if I would like a $20 WinCo credit coin. I'm not sure how it came to be in your possession, if you cashed a check, had returned items, I don't know. I remember the feeling of surprise that you were offering something. I asked you if you could use it, surely there was something inside you might need. I remember you placing it in my hand and saying, "You can have it." I said a quiet thank you and then you were gone.
I still wonder why you chose to give it away. We were at a grocery store! Surely there was something inside that you needed. Everyone needs food! I even asked if you could just use it for junk food; soda, donuts, jelly beans, whatever. There had to be something that you would eat. But you gave it away.
What you didn't know is that I was pregnant. You didn't know that this was my third child. You didn't know that I was staying at home while my husband worked and went to school and we were basically living on student loans. You didn't know that weeks earlier we had been in a car accident that totaled our car. You didn't know any of this. How could you?
The bigger concern was what others didn't know. They didn't know that a young man who looked different from them had something to offer. His outstretched hand intended to give, not to receive. They didn't know that although they ignored him he remained willing to give. They didn't know he was going to change my life that day.
That $20 coin did more than help with groceries that day. It taught me that all have something to offer. And while I was the recipient that day I, too, have something to offer. It won't always be money but I can give of myself. I can look inward, past the outward appearance and see that there is good in others. I can sacrifice something of mine to share with another.
I can try to be like you.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Fall Memories
I love the fall! It is by far my favorite time of year.
Some of my fondest memories as a child are from when my brothers and I would rake leaves under the leaning tree in the backyard. We'd rake them into clubhouses, mimicking home blueprints, leaving entrances to and from the club and making doorways. We'd then choose who got to president, vice-president and treasurer. Treasurer was the best job! Somehow we always had candy available at that time of year and whoever was treasurer got to hide the candy in their office and be the one to dole out treats. My favorites were the monster chews; fruity flavored taffy with monsters on the wrappers. We'd play like this for hours, and as soon as the clubhouse "walls" were no longer discernible it was time for a new floor plan.
Although we always had plenty of leaves in our yard from the several poplar trees I remember one year wanting more leaves. Luke and I hauled a wheelbarrow over to our neighbor Mary Alice's yard. She had so many trees! We piled her leaves into our wheelbarrow, nabbed an apple or two off one of her fruit trees and wheeled the leaves over to our yard. I'm not sure why we though we needed so many leaves, and neither was my mom. She didn't seem too pleased at all the extra leaves. (I get it now, Mom.)
We'd also take turns burying each other in the leaves. Sometimes we'd even get a blanket, put it over ourselves and then pile the leaves on top. No one ever stayed under the pile too long, but we each took a turn.
It was always fun to make a giant pile of leaves to run and jump into. We'd kick the leaves and throw them high in the air and then rake them into a pile again. Inevitably someone would jump into the leaves and then quote Linus, "Never jump into a pile of leaves with a wet sucker." We probably all took our turn doing that as well.
I can also remember the smell of burning leaves in the air. I don't remember if we burned ours, I don't think we did, but living in a rural community that, too, was inevitable.
I still love the smell of the air in the fall, the morning frost, the threat of snow just around the corner. The reminder to slow down, enjoy the season while it lasts, and gather in all that needs protection.
Some of my fondest memories as a child are from when my brothers and I would rake leaves under the leaning tree in the backyard. We'd rake them into clubhouses, mimicking home blueprints, leaving entrances to and from the club and making doorways. We'd then choose who got to president, vice-president and treasurer. Treasurer was the best job! Somehow we always had candy available at that time of year and whoever was treasurer got to hide the candy in their office and be the one to dole out treats. My favorites were the monster chews; fruity flavored taffy with monsters on the wrappers. We'd play like this for hours, and as soon as the clubhouse "walls" were no longer discernible it was time for a new floor plan.
Although we always had plenty of leaves in our yard from the several poplar trees I remember one year wanting more leaves. Luke and I hauled a wheelbarrow over to our neighbor Mary Alice's yard. She had so many trees! We piled her leaves into our wheelbarrow, nabbed an apple or two off one of her fruit trees and wheeled the leaves over to our yard. I'm not sure why we though we needed so many leaves, and neither was my mom. She didn't seem too pleased at all the extra leaves. (I get it now, Mom.)
We'd also take turns burying each other in the leaves. Sometimes we'd even get a blanket, put it over ourselves and then pile the leaves on top. No one ever stayed under the pile too long, but we each took a turn.
It was always fun to make a giant pile of leaves to run and jump into. We'd kick the leaves and throw them high in the air and then rake them into a pile again. Inevitably someone would jump into the leaves and then quote Linus, "Never jump into a pile of leaves with a wet sucker." We probably all took our turn doing that as well.
I can also remember the smell of burning leaves in the air. I don't remember if we burned ours, I don't think we did, but living in a rural community that, too, was inevitable.
I still love the smell of the air in the fall, the morning frost, the threat of snow just around the corner. The reminder to slow down, enjoy the season while it lasts, and gather in all that needs protection.
Friday, September 12, 2014
The One On My Mind
Its amazing to me how 4 kids from the same parents have so much in common and yet are so different. Just when you think you have them figured out something clicks in their mind, they switch gears, and you are left to figure them out all over again. (As our several different chore chart attempts can attest.)
I have one child who gives me a particular challenge. Jack. He's loving and sweet and awful and annoying and funny and a brat. All. At. Once. I don't want to document any particulars at this point in time in the hope that in years to come they will all be a thing of the past and I will be left with only the good memories.
The funny thing is that ever since Jack was a baby I have told him several times a day that I love him. I tell all my kids that I love them daily, but I felt a need to repeat it multiple times a day to Jack. When he began to communicate more I made it into a little game.
"Guess what," I'd say.
He'd offer up a curious, "What?"
"I love you."
Then he'd smile and say, "I love you, too." Jack thought it was fun for a while. Pretty quickly he started to respond, "You love me," completely skipping over the formality of answering, "what?"
As he's grown older I still tell him often that I love him, though we play our game less. I did it so often that when he heard the words, "I love you," he'd say, "I 'm tired of you telling me that. You tell me that everyday." He even went so far as to insert an eye-roll here and there. Yeah, good times.
The fact is, Jack is not always well behaved. He is impulsive, reckless and thoughtless at times. He can be mean, whiny and entitled. He is all boy. There are good things, don't get me wrong. It seems, however, that the good times often come about when he's trying to dig his way out of the bad. (We're working on it.)
I've wondered if I feet the need to tell him of my love so often as a way for me to crystallize it in my own being before dealing with whatever he may throw my direction. I've also wondered if he needed to hear it often so that even when I may not be happy with his actions and choices at times he will have the crucial and fundamental knowledge that I love him. I. Love. Him.
So yes, Jack may tire of hearing it, but I shall never tire of saying it.
I love you, Jack.
I have one child who gives me a particular challenge. Jack. He's loving and sweet and awful and annoying and funny and a brat. All. At. Once. I don't want to document any particulars at this point in time in the hope that in years to come they will all be a thing of the past and I will be left with only the good memories.
The funny thing is that ever since Jack was a baby I have told him several times a day that I love him. I tell all my kids that I love them daily, but I felt a need to repeat it multiple times a day to Jack. When he began to communicate more I made it into a little game.
"Guess what," I'd say.
He'd offer up a curious, "What?"
"I love you."
Then he'd smile and say, "I love you, too." Jack thought it was fun for a while. Pretty quickly he started to respond, "You love me," completely skipping over the formality of answering, "what?"
As he's grown older I still tell him often that I love him, though we play our game less. I did it so often that when he heard the words, "I love you," he'd say, "I 'm tired of you telling me that. You tell me that everyday." He even went so far as to insert an eye-roll here and there. Yeah, good times.
The fact is, Jack is not always well behaved. He is impulsive, reckless and thoughtless at times. He can be mean, whiny and entitled. He is all boy. There are good things, don't get me wrong. It seems, however, that the good times often come about when he's trying to dig his way out of the bad. (We're working on it.)
I've wondered if I feet the need to tell him of my love so often as a way for me to crystallize it in my own being before dealing with whatever he may throw my direction. I've also wondered if he needed to hear it often so that even when I may not be happy with his actions and choices at times he will have the crucial and fundamental knowledge that I love him. I. Love. Him.
So yes, Jack may tire of hearing it, but I shall never tire of saying it.
I love you, Jack.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Father's Day Questionnaire
Father's Day Questionnaire
Here's a fun follow-up to the Mother's Day questionnaire. This time it's all about dad!
My favorite thing to do with my dad is:
I: play video games
K: go on daddy daughter dates
J: play dot to dot
H: play jump over the log and bounce
My dad teaches me:
I: a lot
K: how to be kind
J: stuff
H: how to play rise of the robots
My dad makes the best:
I: barbecue
K: of me
J: mac'n'cheese
H: tacos
My dad is good at:
I: everything
K: making parties
J: doing stuff
H: every game for Nintendo
My dad is as strong as :
I: 50 raccoons
K: an oxen
J: chairs
H: everything
I love my dad because:
I: he's awesome
K: he is awesome
J: he's awesome
H: he's the strongest dad in the world and can lift up our house!
There you have it. If you ask me a 75% awesome rating is pretty darn good!
Here's a fun follow-up to the Mother's Day questionnaire. This time it's all about dad!
My favorite thing to do with my dad is:
I: play video games
K: go on daddy daughter dates
J: play dot to dot
H: play jump over the log and bounce
My dad teaches me:
I: a lot
K: how to be kind
J: stuff
H: how to play rise of the robots
My dad makes the best:
I: barbecue
K: of me
J: mac'n'cheese
H: tacos
My dad is good at:
I: everything
K: making parties
J: doing stuff
H: every game for Nintendo
My dad is as strong as :
I: 50 raccoons
K: an oxen
J: chairs
H: everything
I love my dad because:
I: he's awesome
K: he is awesome
J: he's awesome
H: he's the strongest dad in the world and can lift up our house!
There you have it. If you ask me a 75% awesome rating is pretty darn good!
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Jack's Mail
Quite a while back I signed up Isaac for a subscription to the LEGO magazine. Since then he has been the envy of the children in the house because he receives mail. Jack was especially upset last time an issue arrived and declared rather dramatically, "I NEVER get any mail!" Since I knew my friend Katie had started a tradition of letter-writing on Sundays I texted her and asked if she might be able to convince one of her children to write to Jack.
This afternoon I checked the mailbox and found that she had convinced TWO of her kids to write to Jack. I left the mail in the box and had Jack check it when he got home from school. He was surprised and thrilled to see that he had received mail! We were all impressed with the seriously cool letter-writing of Jacob and Isaac, right down to the sealing wax!
Jack was so excited to return the correspondence that he used the reverse side of the letters they had sent to respond.
I'm thankful for friends who are willing to reach out to help my son feel special (on demand). And I'm glad that Jack was happy to respond instead of thinking only of himself. I hope Katie's boys enjoy receiving mail as well!
This afternoon I checked the mailbox and found that she had convinced TWO of her kids to write to Jack. I left the mail in the box and had Jack check it when he got home from school. He was surprised and thrilled to see that he had received mail! We were all impressed with the seriously cool letter-writing of Jacob and Isaac, right down to the sealing wax!
Jack was so excited to return the correspondence that he used the reverse side of the letters they had sent to respond.
I'm thankful for friends who are willing to reach out to help my son feel special (on demand). And I'm glad that Jack was happy to respond instead of thinking only of himself. I hope Katie's boys enjoy receiving mail as well!
Monday, May 12, 2014
Mother's Day Kid Questionairre
On Sunday the kids were given paper flower magnets in Primary. Each petal had a fill-in-the-blank about their mom. Some of their responses were funny ( Jack signed Isaac's name on his own flower and then gave some bogus answers) and some of them were tender (thank heaven I have a daughter). While I have them on my fridge for now, I want to keep their answers somewhere more lasting. So here they are, as they wrote them.
My mom makes the best:
I: Food
K: FOOD in the WOLD
J: food
H: pepperoni pizza
My mom is as pretty as:
I: everything awesome
K: the most beutiful ROSE
J: fairy books
H: a mushroom
I love my mom because:
I: she loves me
K: of everything she does
J: she's awesome
H: cause she let me play the Wii on a Sunday
My favorite thing to do with my mom is:
I: watch a movie
K: chat and play Lalaloopsies
J: Puzzles
H: play a game on iPad with numbers
My mom teaches me:
I: how to eat her food
K: that I (and her) are most beutiful on the inside
J: notheing
H: how to play games
My mom makes the best:
I: Food
K: FOOD in the WOLD
J: food
H: pepperoni pizza
My mom is as pretty as:
I: everything awesome
K: the most beutiful ROSE
J: fairy books
H: a mushroom
I love my mom because:
I: she loves me
K: of everything she does
J: she's awesome
H: cause she let me play the Wii on a Sunday
My favorite thing to do with my mom is:
I: watch a movie
K: chat and play Lalaloopsies
J: Puzzles
H: play a game on iPad with numbers
My mom teaches me:
I: how to eat her food
K: that I (and her) are most beutiful on the inside
J: notheing
H: how to play games
Monday, April 22, 2013
Birds and the Bees...
And the horses in the seas?
Isaac and I were in the car on Saturday going grocery shopping. Somehow the topic of Isaac one day becoming a father came up. I was surprised when I heard him say, "I don't want to have kids."
"You don't?" I questioned.
"Well, I don't want to make kids," he responded.
Thinking this might be a good segue to the dreaded s-e-x-talk I asked him, "Do you even know how to make kids?"
When he answered,"I'll leave that to the woman," I knew we were talking on two different planes. (No playground information exchange here.). When he continued, "All I know is 'Push!'" I understood that his idea of making a baby was what the rest of us would consider delivering a baby.
"Well," I explained, "men don't have the kids, Isaac. Only women have to push out babies."
"Not seahorses. The dads have baby seahorses."
"Are you a seahorse?"
"We'll, I sometimes think of myself as a horse that originated in the sea."
Isaac and I were in the car on Saturday going grocery shopping. Somehow the topic of Isaac one day becoming a father came up. I was surprised when I heard him say, "I don't want to have kids."
"You don't?" I questioned.
"Well, I don't want to make kids," he responded.
Thinking this might be a good segue to the dreaded s-e-x-talk I asked him, "Do you even know how to make kids?"
When he answered,"I'll leave that to the woman," I knew we were talking on two different planes. (No playground information exchange here.). When he continued, "All I know is 'Push!'" I understood that his idea of making a baby was what the rest of us would consider delivering a baby.
"Well," I explained, "men don't have the kids, Isaac. Only women have to push out babies."
"Not seahorses. The dads have baby seahorses."
"Are you a seahorse?"
"We'll, I sometimes think of myself as a horse that originated in the sea."
Friday, April 19, 2013
Living the Life
The other night I attended a Relief Society dinner. Anyone who knows me knows that if an event involves food, I'll be there, so it was no shock to anyone that I was one of the first to get out of my chair after the blessing on the food and get myself in line for dinner. I strategically placed myself in the line closest to the dessert tables which were nearly overflowing with beautiful glass dishes piled to the top with trifles. Unable to constrain myself, or rather, not caring to, I went ahead and dished myself up some of those heavenly desserts as I stood in line for the main course. Several ladies noticed and commented that I had the right idea...yet no one followed suit. Each of them looked longingly at the desserts on the tables and somewhat enviously at my plate already endowed with the sugary greatness, and a little awed at my forwardness in helping myself.
Perhaps it was a slight breach of etiquette, maybe not the most lady-like behavior...but I tell you what; after those taco salads were consumed women were flocking to those dessert tables, circling like vultures! I kind of giggled as I noticed some women who had commented on my plate earlier load up their dessert bowls with what was obviously what they had truly been looking forward to eating.
Fast forward to today...I got up this morning wishing it was a Saturday. Our whole family was up late last night playing at Gammie and Bucka's before Luke and Janelle head back to PA so no one was quite ready to get out of bed this morning. I let the kids sleep in a little and then drove them to school. Since then I've had a bit of difficulty feeling motivated to do a whole lot. When I finally made it to the shower I remembered several mornings back in my working-outside-the-home-on-someone-else's-schedule days when I woke up wishing I could just spend the day in pajamas. So after getting cleaned up I decided to put on pajamas. Even though I am babysitting today...even though I taught a piano lesson today...even knowing that I would probably be having someone come to the door today. Yes, I taught piano in pajama pants and a mismatched t-shirt. I answered the door with disheveled hair and zero make-up.
I guess my point is...I ate dessert first, I let another see that I am lazy some days. And I'm okay with it. I'm not ashamed. It hasn't negatively impacted anyone's life. In fact, noticing that I've had these opportunities (and YES! they are opportunities) makes me feel truly blessed.
It's been said that when you know you're near death you regret the things you didn't do more than the things you did do. I truly know of a woman who, while lying on her death bed, lamented that she rarely ate dessert. I may die with regrets, but that will certainly not be one of them. And I hope I die wearing my comfiest, coziest jammie jams because that, to me, is a life worth living...the life that's been truly enjoyed!
Perhaps it was a slight breach of etiquette, maybe not the most lady-like behavior...but I tell you what; after those taco salads were consumed women were flocking to those dessert tables, circling like vultures! I kind of giggled as I noticed some women who had commented on my plate earlier load up their dessert bowls with what was obviously what they had truly been looking forward to eating.
Fast forward to today...I got up this morning wishing it was a Saturday. Our whole family was up late last night playing at Gammie and Bucka's before Luke and Janelle head back to PA so no one was quite ready to get out of bed this morning. I let the kids sleep in a little and then drove them to school. Since then I've had a bit of difficulty feeling motivated to do a whole lot. When I finally made it to the shower I remembered several mornings back in my working-outside-the-home-on-someone-else's-schedule days when I woke up wishing I could just spend the day in pajamas. So after getting cleaned up I decided to put on pajamas. Even though I am babysitting today...even though I taught a piano lesson today...even knowing that I would probably be having someone come to the door today. Yes, I taught piano in pajama pants and a mismatched t-shirt. I answered the door with disheveled hair and zero make-up.
I guess my point is...I ate dessert first, I let another see that I am lazy some days. And I'm okay with it. I'm not ashamed. It hasn't negatively impacted anyone's life. In fact, noticing that I've had these opportunities (and YES! they are opportunities) makes me feel truly blessed.
It's been said that when you know you're near death you regret the things you didn't do more than the things you did do. I truly know of a woman who, while lying on her death bed, lamented that she rarely ate dessert. I may die with regrets, but that will certainly not be one of them. And I hope I die wearing my comfiest, coziest jammie jams because that, to me, is a life worth living...the life that's been truly enjoyed!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Cast Him In to the Dark Ages
Tomorrow is the first day of literacy week and although Isaac loves to read he is also very fond of playing electronic games. All of my boys love them so much in fact that we've had to turn the Wii into a weekend privelege. That has become a privelege to which they truly look forward.
The advent of literacy week has sent Isaac into a tailspin. Apparently he was on track to conquer Lego Batman 2 this weekend and with literacy week comes the challenge to abstain from TV and video games. He left for school in tears this morning at the realization that his video gaming would be delayed for a WHOLE WEEK!
He renewed the topic when he got home from school. Isaac's spirit had sunk even lower upon learning that the lamp for our TV burnt out this morning bringing on the whole sad affair one day early. When he told me that iPads were included in the challenge it got to be more an he could bear. I told him that it wouldn't be all that bad for him to have a week away from electronics to which he responded, "Can we still use our alarm clocks or do we have to buy a rooster?"
The advent of literacy week has sent Isaac into a tailspin. Apparently he was on track to conquer Lego Batman 2 this weekend and with literacy week comes the challenge to abstain from TV and video games. He left for school in tears this morning at the realization that his video gaming would be delayed for a WHOLE WEEK!
He renewed the topic when he got home from school. Isaac's spirit had sunk even lower upon learning that the lamp for our TV burnt out this morning bringing on the whole sad affair one day early. When he told me that iPads were included in the challenge it got to be more an he could bear. I told him that it wouldn't be all that bad for him to have a week away from electronics to which he responded, "Can we still use our alarm clocks or do we have to buy a rooster?"
Thursday, January 03, 2013
Maybe This Year I'll Write One
My husband gave me a Kindle for my 31st birthday and I have absolutely loved having it. I had forgotten how much I truly enjoy reading and this little device rekindled (pun only partially intended) my love for that hobby. I suppose that had I actually made any New Year's resolutions for 2012 it would have been to read more, specifically classics and literature. Now as I begin 2013 I'm happy to report that that is a resolution I actually kept, or would have, again, had I actually made it.
So just for kicks I shall list all the books I read last year...mostly because I'm curious. (Also, some of the books I read only because they were free, don't judge me.)
Book of Mormon
Golden Lies
Stuck in the Middle
Emma
The Scarlet Letter
Pride and Prejudice
Northanger Abbey
Sense and Sensibility
Scat
Mansfield Park
Jane Eyre
Awaken His Eyes: The Awakened Book One
Paths of Destruction: The Awakened Book Two
Hands to Make War: The Awakened Book Three
A Confederacy of Dunces
The Secret Garden
Les Miserables
Atlas Shrugged
If I've done my math correctly that means I've read just over 7000 pages, which, now that i think about it, doesn't sound like a whole lot. But if you factor in all the laundry and dishes I did last year as well, not to mention potty training a certain stubborn toddler, I suppose it's quite a feat.
So farewell, 2012, I hereby dub thee "The Year Mightier Than the Sword."
So just for kicks I shall list all the books I read last year...mostly because I'm curious. (Also, some of the books I read only because they were free, don't judge me.)
Book of Mormon
Golden Lies
Stuck in the Middle
Emma
The Scarlet Letter
Pride and Prejudice
Northanger Abbey
Sense and Sensibility
Scat
Mansfield Park
Jane Eyre
Awaken His Eyes: The Awakened Book One
Paths of Destruction: The Awakened Book Two
Hands to Make War: The Awakened Book Three
A Confederacy of Dunces
The Secret Garden
Les Miserables
Atlas Shrugged
If I've done my math correctly that means I've read just over 7000 pages, which, now that i think about it, doesn't sound like a whole lot. But if you factor in all the laundry and dishes I did last year as well, not to mention potty training a certain stubborn toddler, I suppose it's quite a feat.
So farewell, 2012, I hereby dub thee "The Year Mightier Than the Sword."
Friday, December 07, 2012
The Mental CHRISTmas Card
A few years ago I was blessed with an experience that is still ingrained in my mind's eye. It was CHRISTmas time and I was at my mom's house trying to capture some of the spirit of the season by baking and wrapping gifts. Hewitt was only a couple of months old and got tired of laying by himself on the floor. My mom needed to get off her feet so she went over, picked him up and sat down with him in a chair next to her CHRISTmas tree in front of the window. She did exactly what grandmothers do with babies...spoiled him with love and smiles. As I stood looking on from the kitchen the moment was truly picturesque; my mom in her apron, the beautifully decorated CHRISTmas tree her backdrop, giant snowflakes gently swirlingin the window behind her, face to face with my baby, both of them grinning from ear to ear. It was a beautiful moment that I cherish and the Christmas card from my Heavenly Father that I will never forget.
Monday, October 01, 2012
Three Years Old!
I remember holding Hewitt as a baby while the other kids ran wild through the house. Hewitt was such a good, sweet baby and I recall looking down at his beautiful face being grateful that I had at least one child that would sit still. I looked at Hewitt and said, "I love you so much, Hewitt...but I know you're going to turn into one of them." The last part didn't even enter my head it just came out of my mouth. Wherever it came from it was so true. Little did I know that he wouldn't just be one of them, he would become their leader!
Today is Hewitt's 3rd birthday. I'm still a little surprised sometimes that he's a part of our family. I have a very vivid memory of waking early one morning with a prompting to take a pregnancy test and the humble, happy tears that followed the positive reading. I was at a point in my life where I didn't know if another child was going to be possible for us. I spent an entire pregnancy worrying about what could go wrong because of my previous delivery experiences. It was such a blessing and relief to deliver a healthy, hefty (for us) 6 pound 1 ounce baby with no complications or surprises. (My goal was to have at least a six pound baby so that 1 ounce may as well have been a ton I was so grateful!)
These are memories from which I often have to call on for perspective. That sweet baby who snorted when he was hungry in the night now has a voice. A voice coupled with an opinion. An opinion often spoken as mandate. Mandates which he fully intends to enforce. In short, Hewitt is a spit-fire Jekyll and Hyde. He loves to laugh and make silly faces, pretend he's Batman or a Power Ranger, run, jump, and especially ride his bike. He wants to eat cereal for every meal and has to eat first thing in the morning or else, trust me, you don't want to be around him. There really are only 3 sides to Hewitt: good, bad and sleeping. I like the first and last Hewitts best.
This kid has a temper like I've never seen. He often gets so mad he just clenches his fists and yells. If anyone does anything to upset him he attacks from the back with punch after punch. He's not a fan of being locked in his room, but hasn't yet decided that poor behavior isn't worth said punishment. Pinching and spanking don't do a whole for him either. Yet when he calms down he's often quick to say sorry and, "I want to be nice."
We all want you to be nice, Hewitt. And have a nice birthday, too!
Today is Hewitt's 3rd birthday. I'm still a little surprised sometimes that he's a part of our family. I have a very vivid memory of waking early one morning with a prompting to take a pregnancy test and the humble, happy tears that followed the positive reading. I was at a point in my life where I didn't know if another child was going to be possible for us. I spent an entire pregnancy worrying about what could go wrong because of my previous delivery experiences. It was such a blessing and relief to deliver a healthy, hefty (for us) 6 pound 1 ounce baby with no complications or surprises. (My goal was to have at least a six pound baby so that 1 ounce may as well have been a ton I was so grateful!)
These are memories from which I often have to call on for perspective. That sweet baby who snorted when he was hungry in the night now has a voice. A voice coupled with an opinion. An opinion often spoken as mandate. Mandates which he fully intends to enforce. In short, Hewitt is a spit-fire Jekyll and Hyde. He loves to laugh and make silly faces, pretend he's Batman or a Power Ranger, run, jump, and especially ride his bike. He wants to eat cereal for every meal and has to eat first thing in the morning or else, trust me, you don't want to be around him. There really are only 3 sides to Hewitt: good, bad and sleeping. I like the first and last Hewitts best.
This kid has a temper like I've never seen. He often gets so mad he just clenches his fists and yells. If anyone does anything to upset him he attacks from the back with punch after punch. He's not a fan of being locked in his room, but hasn't yet decided that poor behavior isn't worth said punishment. Pinching and spanking don't do a whole for him either. Yet when he calms down he's often quick to say sorry and, "I want to be nice."
We all want you to be nice, Hewitt. And have a nice birthday, too!
Friday, September 21, 2012
Imagination
Hewitt: Mom, you be mermaid. You be Areel. I be Prince Eric. I be Batman Price Eric. You be Batman Areel. We go fight bad guy Urswah. C'mon!
Don't Blink or They'll Grow
She instantly looked older and more mature. She grew up right before my eyes.
And to prove that she was happy with the results she took several pictures of herself.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Oh Yes He Would
As parents we are trying to teach our children right from wrong and help them realize that while they are in charge of their own choices, they can't necessarily choose their consequences. We've also tried to emphasize that Jesus Christ has been our best example of choosing the right and that we should try to be like him.
Jack seems to get into a lot of trouble. I don't think he's a bad kid.
Mischievous? Yes.
Bad? No.
He just acts without thinking. After continually hearing us teach him about pleasing Heavenly Father by trying to be like Jesus he started calling us to task as well. Anytime he'd receive a punishment he felt was unfair - so, you know, every punishment - he'd counter, "You're not being like Jesus." I'll admit that it kind of stung the first few times because I really wasn't handling situations in the manner of our Savior. So I began to agree and stated that we could both use some improvement.
One afternoon I had had enough of Jack and his misguided deeds. He hadn't done anything terrible enough to warrant any serious punishment but I just needed a break. My idea was to have him spend some time alone so that he could have a break as well. I sat down with him and explained that he needed to go to his room untilI had reinforcements Jeremiah got home. "What time will Dad get home?" Jack asked. When I answered that it would be about three hours after the current time Jack said, "Jesus doesn't put people in their room for 3 hours." By this time the guilt of my parenting tactics being compared to Jesus had worn thin and then I remembered something. Something wonderful.
You want to know what I had in my back pocket that stunned my little stinker?
"Let me tell you about a prophet named JONAH!"
Jack seems to get into a lot of trouble. I don't think he's a bad kid.
Mischievous? Yes.
Bad? No.
He just acts without thinking. After continually hearing us teach him about pleasing Heavenly Father by trying to be like Jesus he started calling us to task as well. Anytime he'd receive a punishment he felt was unfair - so, you know, every punishment - he'd counter, "You're not being like Jesus." I'll admit that it kind of stung the first few times because I really wasn't handling situations in the manner of our Savior. So I began to agree and stated that we could both use some improvement.
One afternoon I had had enough of Jack and his misguided deeds. He hadn't done anything terrible enough to warrant any serious punishment but I just needed a break. My idea was to have him spend some time alone so that he could have a break as well. I sat down with him and explained that he needed to go to his room until
You want to know what I had in my back pocket that stunned my little stinker?
"Let me tell you about a prophet named JONAH!"
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
Not Sure How To Take This
Last night during Isaac's snuggle time:
"Mom, I hope that you don't die before I do because I don't want to deal with the going-craziness of not having a mom. I'd rather you deal with the going-craziness of not having me. Unless we both die at the same time. You from age, me from illness, that's the only way that could happen."
Sometimes even I can't find the words to respond.
"Mom, I hope that you don't die before I do because I don't want to deal with the going-craziness of not having a mom. I'd rather you deal with the going-craziness of not having me. Unless we both die at the same time. You from age, me from illness, that's the only way that could happen."
Sometimes even I can't find the words to respond.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Over-inflated Sense of Accomplishment? Perhaps...
Last night I had a dream about my upcoming 10K mud run. In my dream I never actually ran. I more or less traveled through a fun house of mind games and puzzles set in a Harry Potter-like castle. Just before I awoke I was trying to fix a hole I'd poked in a bouncy house with my uncle as my mentor.
I've been hoping that adrenaline and the promise of fun will fuel me for the duration of the run. However, after dreaming that it would include bravely walking before live, cast-iron pigs that may or may not have been waiting to see if I could tell which two were identical (seriously, my dreams could be a book on their own), I've decided I might need to do some actual training.
I am not a runner. Sprinting is okay, but I've never done it competitively, unless you count the back-yard races I sometimes arrange with young children just so that I can win. (I need that boost sometimes, don't judge.) So instead of jarring my brain with the impact of running first thing in the morning I chose to go for a bike ride. Yes, I know it's totally different but since I don't exercise much now I just wanted to get started doing something physical. I also wanted something that would help me build endurance.
My goal as I set out was to go for about a 5 mile ride. But as I left the neighborhood I thought that was kind of a lazy goal. Deciding to keep that distance, I told myself I had to pedal the entire ride...without switching gears. (It's kind of sad how specific I have to be with myself because if I leave myself a loophole, I'll find it.)
I can't really tell you how I felt while I rode. For the first mile or so I was mostly concerned about traffic, but once I got out into the country I kind of just checked out. Fortunately my legs pedaled on without my being aware of it. I don't really remember feeling fatigue at any point. I did however realize that it isn't exercise I dislike, it's the impact, which explains my aversion to running. Seems the Law of Inertia is a better workout partner for me than the Law of Gravity.
I had to laugh when I finally pedaled into my driveway and dismounted my bike because it was as if my legs had forgotten how to walk. I had to take a short walk around my cul-de-sac before going inside just so my thighs could remember the motion. Hats off to you triathaloners.
I know that for many others my workout today would be considered a drop in the bucket. But for me it was about setting a goal for my personal growth. And Ta-Da! I did it!
I've been hoping that adrenaline and the promise of fun will fuel me for the duration of the run. However, after dreaming that it would include bravely walking before live, cast-iron pigs that may or may not have been waiting to see if I could tell which two were identical (seriously, my dreams could be a book on their own), I've decided I might need to do some actual training.
I am not a runner. Sprinting is okay, but I've never done it competitively, unless you count the back-yard races I sometimes arrange with young children just so that I can win. (I need that boost sometimes, don't judge.) So instead of jarring my brain with the impact of running first thing in the morning I chose to go for a bike ride. Yes, I know it's totally different but since I don't exercise much now I just wanted to get started doing something physical. I also wanted something that would help me build endurance.
My goal as I set out was to go for about a 5 mile ride. But as I left the neighborhood I thought that was kind of a lazy goal. Deciding to keep that distance, I told myself I had to pedal the entire ride...without switching gears. (It's kind of sad how specific I have to be with myself because if I leave myself a loophole, I'll find it.)
I can't really tell you how I felt while I rode. For the first mile or so I was mostly concerned about traffic, but once I got out into the country I kind of just checked out. Fortunately my legs pedaled on without my being aware of it. I don't really remember feeling fatigue at any point. I did however realize that it isn't exercise I dislike, it's the impact, which explains my aversion to running. Seems the Law of Inertia is a better workout partner for me than the Law of Gravity.
I had to laugh when I finally pedaled into my driveway and dismounted my bike because it was as if my legs had forgotten how to walk. I had to take a short walk around my cul-de-sac before going inside just so my thighs could remember the motion. Hats off to you triathaloners.
I know that for many others my workout today would be considered a drop in the bucket. But for me it was about setting a goal for my personal growth. And Ta-Da! I did it!
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