Mom for a day

So Friday was my day off!  Just kidding.  Friday, I worked twice as hard as usual to facilitate Leah being Mom for a day.  She got to serve breakfast, do laundry, dishes, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, diapering, etc, all with my coaching and assistance.  I wanted her to get the feel of all the things that Mom does every day.  Well, the things that Mom is supposed to do every day.  She was excited and willing all day.  She kept forgetting that she was the Mom and I would remind her that we had more work to do before we could sit down and relax, and she would jump back up again to get back to work.
Her main motivations for being mom for a day were so that she could choose what we ate for our meals, allow movie and computer playing times whenever she wanted, and mostly so that she could stay up late.  We had chocolate milk with our breakfast and snacks at will, and she made what she would make every day if she could, Fruit Salad.  (She did a very good solo fruit salad!)

I interviewed Leah today to find out how she felt about the experience.

We ended up having free lunch at the school, and Leah was disappointed that she hadn't gotten to serve the meal herself.  On the other hand, earlier when she had asked Samuel if he wanted Macaroni and Cheese for lunch and he had replied with enthusiasm, she then replied dejectedly, "Oh, except I don't know how to make that."

She said that the experience was a lot of work.  However, she managed to go the entire time without complaining!  She commented that some parts were fun, but there was a lot to do at once and that she didn't want it to take so long.  All that work made her hungry.  She said it was especially tricky when the baby was awake and needed attention.   

I asked her what she learned.  I had high expectations that she would have a renewed sense of appreciation for me and a greater desire to make my work easier by being more helpful.  She halfheartedly agreed that she should probably be more willing to clean up after herself and complain less.  She was undecided on whether or not she would appreciate me more. I think she learned that I make decisions because I have reasons.  She did also ask me when she can be Mom again...

Well, I learned that Leah is a cheerful helper when she wants to be.  When the incentives are in place or when the suggestion of independence is appealing enough, she can be a great assistant.  When she's had enough, however, she checks out and returns to her own imaginative world. 

If we've learned nothing else from this experience, it is that in the hard moments when I'm overwhelmed and Leah is impatient or demanding, I can remind her of her day as Mom and ask her if she could have done it by herself.  With all we accomplished on Friday, I know for sure I could not have done it by myself.  I just need to put her (and myself) to work every day so that she knows she should always be my little assistant, and all that practice will help her be prepared for her next chance at being Mom!

Being Mom

Today I became totally exasperated over the insistent demands, manipulative pouty faces, and utter impatience of Leah.  I refused to be a short order cook for lunch, which was unacceptable.  I forced her to help me while I made dinner, with her options of setting the table or keeping the baby happy (aka playing with her).  When I told her I would cut up her orange after she changed out of her swimming suit, she complained that she was too hungry and couldn't wait that long.  Yes, this all happened after we had spent the entire morning at the water park.  So in a nut shell, I was totally fed up.

Behaviors such as this are not infrequent.  She's a good kid, she just doesn't get that the world doesn't revolve around her.  And that my sole purpose in life is not to cater to her every need at a moment's notice.  I think you could file this one under "attitude."

So I hatched a plan.  I told her that she can be the Mom for an entire day.  She can say no and yes as much as she wants, just like mom does.  She can stay up late just like mom.  She can pick whatever she wants for breakfast.  And lunch.  And dinner.  As long as she makes it and feeds everyone and cleans it up, just like mom does.  Because in Leah's world, Mom says yes and no arbitrarily, and does certain things just to be mean.  And stays up late watching TV just because she can.  Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

I need her to realize that I work hard all day to take care of everyone else.  I want Leah to understand that I sit back and put my feet up at the end of the day because, more often than not, it is the first time I've sat down all day.  I want her to understand that I say my yeses and nos because there are reasons.  I want her to understand that as a grown up I have knowledge and experience that counts for something.  "I know you don't like vegetables! Do you think I'm trying to torture you, or can you believe me when I tell you there is actually a purpose to this?"

I want Leah to be excited about her own future motherhood, and I hope that I will be the one to teach her many things about nurturing and taking care of a household (notwithstanding my frequent absences of sanity lately).  But I also hope that this exercise will help her understand what goes in to being a mom and make her want to stay a kid for awhile, only having to help out some of the time, instead of doing all the work always.

Most importantly I hope she learns that I am not a waitress or a genie or a superhero.  Her needs will be met, but not at her beck and call.  Her preferences and tastes and whims are not the order of my life.  She will eat what is served.  She will have clean clothes to wear because someone purchased them and washed them and put them away.  Rewards and outings will occur because the children have been helpful and cooperative, because I have planned my schedule and done my chores and spent my money on it, and it is important to me, not because my six-year old is the queen of the universe.  I just want her to appreciate me and all the work I do.  I don't want to doom her to failure, I want to help her succeed, but to also understand that it is a lot of work for parents, and that is why the children are expected to help and not complain.  So that when she goes back to being a kid again the next day, she has a better attitude and more gratitude.  Is that too much to ask? 

We decided that Friday would be the day that Leah is the Mom.  This gives her a day and a half to practice.  So tonight as we sat down to dinner (the children each shoveling down their second pancake while mom has yet to take her first bite), I decided that she could practice being the mom tonight.  I had her do the chair-bouncing thing back and forth to the fridge.  She decided that everyone could have chocolate milk with their dinner (yes, pancakes), including the baby.  She was the one to pour the syrup, spoon-feed the baby her applesauce, and then to mop up the resulting spills.  She did all the baby bathing, with the washcloth-ing and the shampoo-ing.  I helped her have everything she would need to dry, diaper, and dress the baby for bedtime, and I'm hoping my detailed diaper-changing demonstration will prepare her to do it by herself.  Then we spent an hour together doing dishes and cleaning up dinner.  (How long has it been since I played in the dish bubbles at the kitchen sink?)
It only took a few minutes of Leah being the Mom for the true nature of its poeticity to shine through.  All those things that moms say that make kids roll their eyes?  Well they must be true because Leah said it: "I'm already getting you something, I can only do one thing at a time!"  Ah, Samuel and I had a good laugh with that one and I saw Leah hide a sheepish smile.

So here's to Friday.  I have some important things I hope to teach her, and in the process I expect she will teach me a few things in return.

Smell the flower, blow out the candle

So I realize that I have ignored my blog for three months.  It has been so much easier to post one sentence updates to Facebook than actual blog posts, but this is not fair to my friends and family who actually want to know about our lives.  And its not really fair to myself, because blogging is a really good way of expression.  We are still here.  We are all alive and breathing.  We only had to call poison control once. 

I am just going to announce that I intend to come back to blogging.  Mostly because I like the sound of the keyboard clacking on my new computer.  It is very pretty and I named her Violet.  It is so fast and does not overheat, it has Windows 7 and the number three on the 10-key actually works.  These are good things.

I realized today that at 28 I have officially been dealing with depression for half of my life.  That darn puberty thing really screwed me up.  I am going to therapy and breathing deeply.  I am adopting the mantra that life is hard and that I can do hard things. This may or may not be working.

There is this thing about Survival Mode:  In order to survive, you must make sure your children are fed and wearing clothing (bonus points if the clothes are clean).  Breakfast for dinner is acceptable, however cinnamon toast can only be used as an entree once per week.  The house should not catch fire, and showering should be attempted at least every two days.  Makeup and hairspray are extra credit only.  If you have a job, you should go or they might fire you, but you don't really have to look nice unless you must interact with actual professionals at said job.  You should probably at least lay a towel over the spilled milk in the kitchen, and make sure the sheets are washed after a bout of vomiting.  Actually putting away laundry is more of a maintenance, cruising mode kind of thing, and doesn't really happen in Survival Mode. Survival Mode is marked daily by curses over missing keys and persistent alarm clocks.   Going visiting teaching is out of the question.

In addition to the necessity of keeping the children alive and safe, there is an Activity of Withdrawal from responsibility that usually lasts a couple weeks.  I played a lot of Solitaire for awhile.  Sometimes it is sleep, thanks to electronic devices that four year can operate by themselves.  Sometimes I do nothing but read murder mysteries.  Or design and construct skirts.  Sometimes it is Angry Birds.  Often it is Facebook, where I can stay abreast of important events in the lives of my former junior high acquaintances and receive validation from people without actually having to interact with them.  Sometimes I do nothing but watch Grey's Anatomy.  I really miss George.  There were two weeks where all I did was Rubik's cube.  You get the picture.

Every once in a while I emerge from a cocoon of bedsheets and drawn curtains and become myself again.  I actually take dinner to people I care about that are having a rough week.  I might make biscuits from scratch, paint with the kids, or genuinely laugh at a joke.  I might go to story time at the library and pack a picnic lunch at the park.  Sometimes I wear make up and once last month I actually blow-dried my hair. 

I miss being me.  I want to be me.  I hope to get to the point where I can look back on the Survival years and be grateful for a healthy, New me.  An involved and cheerful wife/mom/food buyer/individual whose socks are predictably matching, does not have a caffeine habit, is not running late or scrambling for a babysitter, and whose keys are not lost.  Her history of Depression is actually history, with wonderful lessons learned and an inspiring story to boost and encourage another who is still in the thick of it.  I will be someone who doesn't get her feathers ruffled because life isn't fair.  I don't want to continue on a path that makes my years of depression outnumber my years of wellness.

That's it.  That is where I am and where I want to go. In a recent epiphany, I realized that feeling hopeless is not actually because there is no hope, but because some evil spirit is sneaking into my qi and trying to make life seem hopeless so that I will just Give Up. 

So now that I know that all is not hopeless, I know to pray away the adversary and try again to be Me tomorrow.

Then and Now

How is it that such a tiny little person has turned my life so completely upside-down?

I used to fit into all the clothes in my closet. I used to have all my kids potty trained. I used to have an organized work and babysitting schedule. I used to get enough sleep at night. I used to be able to take a sleep aid and sleep even better. I used to take 15 minute showers at my leisure.
I used to have a perfect balance of anti-depressant and anxiety medications. I used to have an appetite. I used to enjoy playing with my kids and reading them stories. I used to feel loving and familiar toward my kids. I used to feel like I was in control of my life.

Now only half my clothes fit. Now I have a newborn using half a dozen diapers a day and a Samuel who's new nickname is Mr. Pottypants. Now I have a kindergartener and an infant and have to figure out a work schedule and daycare schedule all over again. And in the mean time, I'm not making any money at all. Now I am always tired and grouchy. I only get to take power showers and teaser naps, and I only sleep in three hour increments, if I'm lucky. Now I have to start over on finding a combination of antidepressants that is effective. Consequently, I don't enjoy food and my kids are always disappointed that I don't feel like playing with them. Now my kids are giants and strangers to me. I feel impatience and frustration toward them instead of love, and I feel like I have to reinvent my relationship with them. In fact, I can't remember feeling loving toward anyone or anything, not to mention feeling like laughing or smiling. I feel anxious that I have no control over my house and my children and my life.

Whereas I used to have life pretty much figured out, now I am starting completely from scratch.

Audrey's First Week

Audrey is now 9 days old, and my mom is leaving today--the nerve! Mom has done wonderfully taking care of us--she has successfully proved herself and will have her Grandma License renewed in full for another year. She has done the yardwork, the laundry, the cooking, the dishes, the breakfast shift, the mending, the window washing, and so much more. I have been able to get naps when I needed it. It has been so nice to have her here. Tomorrow Chris will go to work for 10 hours and I will be the one in charge of all of us! That will be interesting...

The first couple days were impossibly exhausting for me, having had a physically demanding delivery and being expected to feed a hungry baby constantly with...nothing! for 3 days.

Now that the pump works, Audrey is a wonderful baby. She is an excellent nurser, although she thinks that if she is awake, she needs to also be eating. Otherwise she wants to be asleep--we took her with us on some errands to get her to have some awake time, afraid that if she were to sleep all day it would consequently result in being awake all night. She slept completely through all of her public appearances! The store, the baby carrier, the carseat, the park...she slept through it all. I am teaching her from the start that I will not be a human pacifier and that I intend to get sleep at night, thank you very much. When fully fed, she will sleep for 3-4 hours at a time in the night, which is delightful. Should I worry that it won't last? What if I become accustomed to four hour sleep segments, only to have my baby suddenly revert back to nocturnal again? Ahhh!

Audrey has already projectile pooped on me, resulting in a wardrobe change for the both of us. That was gross. And after nursing, she promptly falls into a delirious, drunken partial sleep in which her eyes flutter, she spontaneously smiles, and she drools milk. Priceless.

Having a baby in the Spring has been a dramatic and much needed contrast from my first two winter babies. I have been able to get out of the house--it has been so nice to get sunlight, go on a walk, sit in the grass, not having to worry about wind and snow and bundling up in layers. And I want to get out of the house! Knowing that I am predisposed to depression has also prepared me better--I know what I can handle and what I can't; when to say yes and when to say no; what will help me feel human and what will make me want to hide in a dark cave. (Trying to avoid the urge to hide in a cave this time around...) Even so, with my well-behaved kids and my peaceful baby, and my supportive husband and my mom here to help, I am still exhausted--my entire body hurts and my emotional core is particularly tender. But that's just part of the package.

Here are some photo highlights of Audrey's first week on Earth.

All about Samuel

Meet my sweet Samuel!

Samuel is such a friendly guy! At the mall or in my building on campus, he will walk up to random passersby and start a conversation. Icebreakers have included: "I have a haircut," "It was my birthday, but my birthday is over now," "Grandma Benac died," and "My mom has that iPod, too! Do you have mad birdies?" For a long time, he thought that all salt and pepper haired gentlemen with glasses was Grandpa. I kept reminding him that it was probably someone's grandpa, but not ours. After that, he would excitedly point out the same type of person and say "Look! Somebody else's Grandpa!!!" His lack of fear around strangers reminds me of myself at that age..

Samuel is calculated and careful. Playing UNO with the kids, Samuel is the one who will put his cards down and pause the game in order to meticulously straighten the discard pile. How may three year olds do that? He will also sit and play Angry Birds on end and actually get good scores!

He is so animated. Last week he was riding in the shopping cart playing Frogger on my iPod, and every time his frog got hit by a car (like, every 15 seconds...), he screamed and squealed. All the little old ladies were truly smitten. When we watched Toy Story 3 the second time, he, very convinced that this is all real, shouted out a warning to Buzz as he approached the questionable vending machine, "No! Don't go in there!" Everyone in the movie theater heard it and laughed.

He is also very concerned and expressive. A few weeks ago we were teaching the children Lehi's dream in the Book of Mormon. They were very interested in the story and seemed to understand the symbolisms that we were explaining (this kind of attention span is very rare, trust me!). When I told them about the mists of darkness and what it would mean and how sad it would be for one of our family to be "lost" in a modern day mist of darkness, Samuel burst into tears and said "I don't want to get lost in the mist of darkness!!!" Lets hope he keeps that righteous ferver!

At the mall play area last week, the kids were playing and had taken off their shoes. A few minutes later, Samuel came to us crying. We didn't see him get hurt, so were curious what was wrong. He announced "That kid took my shoes!" We looked, and sure enough, another kid playing had the same pair of Walmart shoes. We showed Samuel his own shoes sitting on the bench next to us and he was appeased.

He's emotional, too. But most of that is probably being three. We are teaching him how to use words instead of emotions when something is not his way. He likes to melt down and cry or yell or hit at those moments, but he's learning that I don't tolerate it at all. We can usually nip it right away. He has definately learned that when Mom starts counting to three, he better get his booty in motion, because three means a spank. He tries to protest, but by the time I get to two, he is repentant and quick-footed. When I announce what is for lunch or dinner, he tells me if it is his favorite or not, meaning if he wants it right now or not. So for example, today it was "Spaghetti is not my favorite. Chicken nuggets feels me better." And of course tomorrow, chicken nuggets will not be his favorite.

Samuel is (finally!) a big boy, and he is so proud of it! Every night at pajama time he protests a night time diaper because "Big boys don't wear diapers." And whenever I take him potty in public, he is very concerned that we have to use the girls bathroom. This week I called him "sweetie pie" and he corrected me in all seriousness with "I'm not sweetie pie, I'm big boy pie."

Samuel is quite a gymnast and a daredevil. Just look at my post last month about putting up the rings in the basement. We are planning on getting him in to a gymnastics class very soon.

Samuel LOVES babies! It is so cute to see him dote over some little stranger in a stroller wherever we go--we're working on learning about personal space. I think he is going to really enjoy being a big brother!

Samuel plays until he is completely wiped out. Here is some photographic evidence that by dinner-time, Samuel-who-didn't-nap will fall asleep anywhere.

All About Leah

Meet my beautiful daughter, Leah.

One of the most distinctive things about Leah is that she is insanely imaginative. She can make-believe out of anything. Balloons that have lost their float, a paperclip, a square of (clean) toilet paper, a clothes hanger, a 2 inch flooring sample. She will find a way to create an imaginary world around it. Her fingers are her friends, with constantly changing identities. As of today, they are elephant fairy butterflies; they play and sometimes even argue and hit.

She also interacts with a TV show or movie, singing and dancing along with the characters, playing the storyline again by herself later. Today I whipped together a 30-minute fairy skirt out of some leftover fabric, truly homemade, but she thinks it is the greatest thing that has ever happened to her. And she is now playing "Fairies." Again. That girl doesn't need a whole lot to have a good time.

Leah is really worried that she hasn't decided yet what she will be when she grows up. Some days she want to design buildings and build bridges. Other days she wants to be a dogcatcher. But every day she wants to go to the moon.

One of her latest announcements is that when she grows up, she is going to have a teaching studio where she teaches people how to be superheroes and fairies (and even superhero-fairies). It will have a rainbow roof and a blue door. I am trying to convince her to charge more than $1 for her classes, because I think they sound great.

She is constantly asking me when she can go on her first rescue mission to save people from bad things like fires, floods, falling out of trees, being captured, etc.

Leah is curious. She asks profound questions and wants to understand the world. Recent words she has asked us to define are nocturnal, extinct, comfortable, decay, drowning, hoodwinked, cave, tornado, and more good ones I can't remember. She even knows a handful of Spanish words thanks to Dora and my elementary spanish vocabulario. She also wants to understand how the body works. We got a children's human body encyclopedia at Christmastime, but that wasn't enough, so this week Chris brought out his college anatomy textbook and we showed her where babies grow and how they get out. (At least she doesn't want to know how they get in.)

Today she was shocked (like, jaw-dropped) to learn that sticks are made of wood and that wood and paper come from trees. And yesterday, the little girl who wants to protect the butterflies from the birds was equally shocked to learn that we eat cows and pigs and chickens every day.

She'll ask us deep questions about what happens in a flood or an earthquake and we will start explaining how things work. Then she'll surprise us with a question like, "Where do the fairies go when their building collapses?" or "How will they fly away from the flood if their wings get wet?" I think she's smart enough that at some point in time she will filter out the imaginary from the real, so I'm going to keep giving her real answers.

Leah is determined and loves learning. She is looking forward to swimming lessons this summer where she has decided she wants to swim without floaties. And now that she knows kindergarteners learn how to read, she asks me weekly how long it will be until she can go. (And she asked me what kind of garden they have, too).

Leah is creative. She prefers artistic projects such as doodling, glueing, cutting, constructing fairy houses out of cardboard boxes, etc. When Samuel gets his hands on my iPod, he goes right for the games, but Leah goes for the doodling app and the letters flashcards.

Leah is conscientious and helpful. When she wants to, she will help me clean or put away laundry, frantically scrubbing walls with a brush, sorting through the laundry as fast as her little arms will go, remarking "Look at how fast this is going!" She always wants to help bake or sew. She is a cheerful helper.

She recently heard a dentist tell her story-time group that you should brush twice a day. Now every afternoon she concernedly observes "We forgot to brush our teeth this morning!" I simply tell her that we always forget in the mornings and run out of time. So this morning I made it a point to brush teeth as part of our getting dressed routine. As soon as she had rinsed and spit, she declared "Now we need to floss." Smart girl.

Leah is also very silly--a characteristic she got from her silly parents. Leah is a good friend, always making new friends wherever we go, and never thinks about being shy unless someone reminds her to. And she is a great big sister. (Most of the time.) She is nurturing and wants to take care of the people around her. She is emotional and sensitive like girls always are, and is recognizing that it is hard work learning to control your emotions and deal with disappointments.

Oh, there is so much to say about my little girl!

Incentives. Or rather, full-on bribery

I know I'll be spending a fortune on diapers for Baby Girl in just a couple of months, but I do not want to spend a single penny more on diapers for Samuel. Come on, kid, get motivated! (PS--vote on your favorite Baby Girl name on the left)

We have tried the whole gamut with this kid, and I can not seem to get him motivated. "Oh, you pooped your pants. Now you can't have your new truck!" And straight-faced he says back: "I don't want my truck." "I don't want a marshmallow." "I don't want my bouncy ball." "I don't want to be a big boy, I want to wear a diaper." "I like taking cold showers." Ok, not really, he's never said he likes the cold shower, he mostly just squeals in terror and clenches those little white butt-cheeks, but it seems like he might as well be asking for it when he poops his pants daily!

I just plain out asked him "What do you want me to give you as a reward for going poop in the toilet?" fully expecting to give him whatever his little three-year old self designs to ask for. And then the poop happens in his pants and said reward is denied and stubbon three year old is completely indifferent.

Today I said "Samuel, you can't play with play-doh until you've pooped in the toilet," and "After you poop in the toilet, I'll get you a donut and you can have your bouncy ball back!" Well, he managed to get some of it in the toilet this morning and promptly asked for his bouncy ball, then his donut, then play-doh. Is this the trifecta of potty perfection? Will it work tomorrow?

So here is my question: I know it is different for every kid, but what was the "clicker" incentive that convinced your kid it was worth it to go in the potty? Was it wonderwoman underpants? Was it a trip to Chuck-E-Cheese? Was it as simple as fruit snacks or a single chocolate chip? Or was it fear of a punishment?

Criteria

It's kind of like a quiz. To see what baby names you can come up with that fit my criteria.

1. Traditional but not too popular. And not made up. And it has to be spelled normally, like you could find it on a license plate keychain.

2. Our first two have biblical names that are two syllables. That works, but is not a requirement. Obviously we are not doing the same first initial for everyone; that's not my style.

3. It has to work with our last name and our other kids names. I've had perfect strangers advise me not to name any of our children Richard. I think I'm smart enough to know that. And I'm even going to make sure their initials don't spell something weird.

4. It has to be gender specific. That rules out Taylor and Jordan (and many others).

5. And I have to like it. So even though the name Jared fits the criteria, it makes me think of the Subway guy.

Everyone has a right to name their kid whatever they want, so of course I don't intend to offend anyone. These are my personal preferences for my kids.

Can you think of baby names that fit these criteria? Hopefully you will think of some that I haven't thought of yet. And vote on the sidebar on what you think it will be, a boy or a girl. We will probably find out the baby's gender some time after Christmas.

I earned my title today, thank you very much

For a self-proclaimed "supermom," I don't have that many days that demonstrate my supermom-ness. Except for maybe today.

Today I....

• Gave the kids baths
• Cleaned up vomit several times (which is why they got baths)
• Camped in a tent in the back yard with the kids
• Swept and mopped the kitchen and hallway
• Scrubbed and bleached all the garbage cans in the house
• Cleaned the kitchen counters and ran the dishwasher twice
• Washed and put away more than four loads of laundry.
• Organized our bedroom closet, picking out the things to go to DI (and those blue capris that I thought were goners actually fit me instead!)
• Rounded up all the winter gloves and hats and scarves and put them in their own bin. (Okay, I know it's July....)
• Got out the sewing machine and did all the mending that has been on my to-mend list forever, including make Leah a pair of cut-offs (and with a double needle, ooh, la, la!)
• Made cookies (with two preschoolers helping, mind you)
• Cleaned up after the cookies
• Had a steak and potato dinner ready when my husband came home at 6:00

Okay, so I guess if I delivered the cookies to my visiting teachees with a hand made card, I would get a few more points. I did pull one weed tyring to find the garden hose, but theres a lot more I didn't pull. And Samuel is still not potty trained....

Wait, I'm trying to make my case for Supermom.

Well, the night is young, maybe I'll still manage to get to the gym!

Feat for Four

About once every couple of years I get an itch to hike the Y. I keep forgetting how steep and uneventful a climb it is. To satisfy Leah's desire to "go on a mountain," and hearing her comment along the lines that a walk at Bridal Veil Falls isn't mountainous enough, I decided she needed to hike the Y, too.

We can see the Y from our house, and she agreed that it would be cool to go that high. We got her some real walking shoes (with laces!) specifically for the trek. (And she wore those pink sketchers for 48 hours straight after getting them). We had countless conversations about how it would be hard, but that we would keep going. We are trying to teach her the idea of working hard to accomplish a goal. As for me, I am trying to train myself that having little kids doesn’t have to stop me from doing hard and adventurous things like this.

Well, Memorial Day was the day that did not get rained out. Honestly, I thought we would turn around half way up. But we pushed ourselves and we encouraged Leah to push herself, and we made it all the way to the top! We had to pace her with a 30-second break at each switchback, but as we got close enough to see the Y, she renewed her excitement at being so close to our goal. Now she can look at the Y and know that she walked there!

Unfortunately, the kids were grumpy the whole way down and Chris had to carry Leah on his shoulders. I had Samuel in a too-small carrier on my back the whole way (30 extra pounds makes a big difference), and he fell asleep on the way down. I have to say going down was nearly as hard as going up as my legs were tired and shaky and I didn't have a lot of traction on the steep, dry dirt/gravel trail. I even got some war wounds-I turned my ankle and skinned my knee on the way down.

Here are some pictures to prove that we really did it! (Note the grumpy children hiking/not grumpy children eating ice cream)

Three quarters of the way up.

At the top.

Chris and Leah climbing on the rocks.

Chris rubbed his cone on his face, too. Happy Memorial Day!

Mother's day paper chain

1. For my Young Women's lesson today, I taught about keeping family history records. I am the link (and each young woman, for that matter) that joins past generations to future generations, and I demonstrated this with a paper chain. Then I shared some gems from Grandma Helen's book, the life story she printed a few years ago. I was demonstrating that the lessons taught by telling her life story are a treasure to me and my children because of the things we can learn from her, about her, and through the gospel testimony shared therein. It was a great Mother's day activity for me to read her book all morning and try to decide which stories to share. (And I needed to shed some worthwhile tears, of course!)

2. Today as I sat in Sacrament meeting, I noticed several familiar things that reminded me of my mother. Leah sat on my lap playing with my necklace and batting at my earrings. It reminded me of sitting on my mother's lap and doing the same when I was a child. I can picture her necklaces. Then Leah layed her head on my shoulder and I twirled her hair in circles around her ear. I always loved it when my mom did that, and now I notice Leah reaching for my hand and placing it on her ear. I will probably start picking through Leah's hair looking for lice some day, something I made my mother do for years after having head lice the summer before 5th grade. (Although I certainly will try to avoid a lice infestation...) Interesting what little things I picked up. Of course, there are big things, too many to name right now.

3. And for a little something from the one who first made me a mother. Today while Leah played with a toy train I heard her say, "This train can be INvisible and it can be OUT of visible." It amazes me her rationality with language!

As only a four year old can, she has quite an imagination. She thinks up all kinds of "What if" scenarios all the time. The other day, this is what she came up with: "Mom, what would happed if a person pooped in the street?" I responded that they would probably get in trouble by the police and could maybe go to jail. Then she asked "What would happen if a dog or a cat pooped in the street?" And I said "Nothing!"

And tonight she was playing with the magnetic letters on the fridge, asking me to pronounce the cominations that she came up with. "What does this word say?" I respond, attempting to pronounce phonetically "mosgrajkfi." "What does it mean?" "It's not a word, honey, it doesn't mean anything." Then she started singing a song about her made up words. It's the tune of "Are you sleeping" and it consists of letters, followed by "That spells ____." Well today her song was "Mosgrajkfi, Mosgrajkfi, That spells nothing, that spells nothing."

What moments have I provided to her that will permeate her childhood and be remembered when she is a mother?

(Pictured: $3 well spent at the dollar store.)

All about Bobo

Bobo is a friendly baby monkey in Jez Alborough's picture book "Hug". We affectionately call Samuel "Bobo" because he acts like a monkey and gives the best hugs.

Here's some pictures of the little guy. He is such a sweet heart. He gives the best hugs, talks constantly (in sentances!), sleeps well at night and still takes an afternoon nap, loves milk and stuffed animals and baths, can count and a-b-c, and smiles constantly with those adorable dimples...you get the idea. We love our Bobo!

Last week we had strawberry smoothies for dessert. With straws (a real novelty!). Samuel kept picking up his cup and trying to drink it like water, but it was too thick. Then as soon as I looked away, he picked up his cup and smoothie dropped onto his face. He had smoothie all over his shirt, in he eyelashes, ears, nostrils, etc. It was so pathetic. I was too sad for him and the smoothie was just too cold for me to take a picture before cleaning him up. He was a good sport and recovered quickly.

One time the kids were playing in the backyard with ice cream cones. I took Leah inside to go to the bathroom and when I came back out a few minutes later, Samuel had apprently lost the scoop of ice cream from the top of his cone. Being a good sport, instead of crying about it, he left the ice cream in the grass and proceeded to play in the sandbox, using his empty cone as a scooper. Very resourceful!

Snippets, Inspired by Leah

Requested by Chris.

Yesterday Leah got some fingers smashed in a door, not too serious, but it did require an ice pack, which itself required smarties.

So today when she bonked her head, she announced she needed ice. Then on her way to the kitchen for ice, she pinched her finger. The poor girl was very sad and very much crying. I said "You just keep getting hurt today."

She responded tearfully, "I get hurt everyday." Then we put one icepack on her hand and one balanced on her head and her first question was "What kind of treat can I have while I have ice?" Sorry kid--just ice.

She's much better at playing off her owies and announcing "I'm okay...I'm tough" when it isn't already bedtime.

Oh, and she is already telling me ideas for what she wants to be for Halloween next year. One day she said she wanted to be Jessie again, and then it was Ariel. This will be a fun year...

And lastly, is it normal for parents to be brimming over with so much pride for their almost-4-year-old to say two lines into the microphone in sacrament meeting, and spend the other 45 minutes playing with the girl next to her, sticking out her tongue, signing random sign-language words, and giving us thumbs up throughout her first Primary Program?

Supermoms! Unite for Sunday sanity!

Kids in sacrament meeting. How do you do it? We have a few rules, like no snacks or activities until after the Sacrament, and they must sit on our laps or on the bench quietly during hymns and prayers. Then they can color or play quietly. We downsized from a big bag of Sunday toys to one toy per kid because it was just getting out of hand. One week was so bad, we actually practiced 10 minutes of reverent time and pretended we were waiting for the sacrament at home a couple nights throughout the week--the following Sunday showed marked improvment. But after that, we were back to our old, crazy, impossible Sacrament struggle. (Do you like my alliteration?)

Here is my latest One-Hour project. It is a one player bing0 board and the task will be for Leah to listen in the meeting and put a Sunbeam on the image when she hears the word mentioned: music, Holy Ghost, Missionaries, prieshthood, etc. You get the idea.
If she were older, I would have used more pictures with more complex principles.

The project consisted of sleuthing out some photos that represent concepts simple enough for a three year old to understand and putting them on a grid chart I made in Word. Then I printed it and laminated it and adhered a sticky velcro dot to each square. Then I did the same with sunbeams, and voila! It took me about an hour, so I made two. I even made a little pocket on the back to store all the little sunbeams in. Tomorrow will be the true test of its effectiveness.
Project break down:

• 10' roll of adhesive laminate: $20 (I'm so glad I didn't buy that $60 laminator, because this stuff works just fine for my purposes)
• 75 sets of adhesive velcro dots: $8.
• Of course, it helps that we already have a really good printer.

I have lots of laminate and velcro left, of course, so I want to make one for you! Here's how to get one. I want to hear how you keep your kids occupied during Sacrament Meeting. What are the rules you have? Do you allow snacks and activities? What kinds? If not, why not, and what do you do instead to keep order?

I'll report back after we've tried my new Bing0 game for two Sundays (So, July 12), and then I will pick a random winner among the commentors and I will make you your own bing0 game (and I will even put your family picture on it instead of mine!).

Happy commenting!

Sparking Pots and other "darndest" things

The latest from Leah's lips:

"My grandkids call me Tinkerbell. And Ariel."

"Is Samuel going to grow up to be a Chris?"

"Dad, you're still Mr. Incredible."

"Mom, did you find a sparking pot yet?"

"Mom, will you say 'Oh, look at those tears' because you're a good mommy?

"Eyeballs are for blinking."

Mom: "I love you Leah."
Leah: "I love you too sweetheart!"

Ode to Mom

I thought about making a list of the reasons why my Mom is the greatest. Then I realized that to really do her justice, in order to have a truly fitting tribute to mom, I’d have to use poetry. So here we go.

This Mom is the Bomb
By Dr. Spoofs.

The sun did not shine, it was too wet to rake.
So she sat in the house and she started to bake.
She sat there with bread dough, she sat there and kneaded.
This was not a good time for yards to be weeded.
No laundry to fold and no toilets to scrub,
Thanks to her wonderful excellent Hub.
So all she could do was to
Type
Type,
Type,
TYPE!
And did she complain? Not one little gripe.

Then Eve was redeemed!
How that news made us gleam!
A real, hooded Doctor, standing so calm,
We cheered and we cried out, this Mom is the Bomb!

And she said to us “Why do you sit there like that?”
“Don’t act like I’m tired and should be ready to rest,
Look at what’s happened inside of this nest.”
“I know some good projects to start”
(Please don’t slouch)
“I know some great stories”
She sat on the couch.
“A lot of great stories, I think you should stay.
I am your mother, now do as I say.”

And Becky and I did not know what to say.
Our mother was acting quite strange for the day.
And our Dad said “Yes! Yes!
Let us hear all about!
Let us count up the ways that your mom is worn out!”

“She has mastered the Bard
She has studied phonemes
While mothering hard.
Let her tell us these things.”

“Now, Now. Let me see.
Let me see, I will quench.
I’ll tell you the story in Spanish or French.
Why we can have lots of good fun, if you please,
My story of counting 1-2-3 degrees.”

“Very well” said the mom.
“I will tell you all how.
I’ve been going to school from then until now.
I raised you four up as I studied a lot,
With a book in one hand and some soup in a pot.
But that is not all that I did,” said the mom…

“Look at me! Look at me then!” She said chiming.
“Raising four kids while in school and still smiling.
I could look at TWO books, untie any knot,
Could sew a black skirt, and get out that damn spot.
And look, I can swim endlessly in the pool
All while coordinating car-pool.”

“Look at me!
Look at me!
Look at me then!
It is fun to have fun, but you have to know when!
I could hold a church calling, tape record dinner,
Draw by eye-balling, then nurse any splinter.
I could bike here and there and not even perspire.
And look, with my feet, I can lead the ward choir!
I know every verse in the hymnbook, what’s more,
I can sleep next to Dad even though he would snore…”

That is what the mom said when she fell on her bed!
She came down with a bump, she came down with a roll
And Becky and I saw that the bed had a hole.

She fell deep asleep, she fell on the bed
“She does fall asleep like this”, our dad said.
“But this is a good story, do not side-track!
If we must wake her up, We may heart attack!”
At B.Y.U., N.I.U., C.O.D. even,
What’s next for your research, the Garden of Eden?
Mother of four and now with five grands,
And to think that she did it with only two hands.
And many years later, she’s Supermom still
Enjoying the beautiful, green Naperville.

But it doesn’t make much of a difference where from,
No matter the place, this Mom is the Bomb!

Please don't lynch me...

...But I've gone and cut Leah's hair.

Before:

After:

I still have mixed feelings, looking back on the curls that will never again be. But I had good reasons...!

It was just too much work! Leah twirls her hair in her fingers when she's resting, it gets caught in toys and zippers and stuck under her coat, it gets stepped on, it gets pulled, it gets in her mouth while she's eating, she gets peanut butter and sticky candy in it at the table, it gets in her face, it gets soooo incredibly tangly that it takes 20 minutes to brush, twice a day! And Leah does not like having her hair brushed. So I've gone and done it.

Although it might not have the same explosive spontaneous ringlets that it had this morning, I think it looks good. And I think I did a pretty darn good job of getting it even and straight considering this is my first time really cutting her hair. It is sad to see the mass of crazy curls gone, but now we can look back on them as a symbol of her infancy and toddlerhood, for now she is a preschool-attending, big-sister, potty-trained Big Kid.

Yeah, it's that kind of day

The first thing I did this morning was reverse the doorknob on my daughter's bedroom door so that it locks on the outside.

Yeah. Tantrums. They're great.

The Girl Who Cried "Potty"

Scenario 1:

1. Situate yourself with a baby, a new diaper, and a container of wipes.
2. Remove child's soiled diaper, clean his behind, replace with clean diaper.
3. Discard soiled diaper. Replace clothing.
4. Wash hands thoroughly.

Scenario 2:

1. Remind child to go potty every 30 minutes, before every meal, outing, and at least three times before bed.
2. Help her remove pants and sit on potty.
3. Return 5 minutes later, cheer for joy, clean her behind.
4. Flush, replace clothing.
5. Wash two sets of hands thoroughly.
(I highly prefer this method)

Scenario 3:

1. Hear "Oh, NO! I went potty!"
2. Observe puddle of pee accumulate (in slow motion) on the floor, on the kitchen chair, and on the carpet.
3. Find something to soak it up with. Strip soiled clothing off of child.
4. Take child up to tub and scrub her down.
5. Dry her off and dress her in clean, dry clothes.
6. Clean up mess on kitchen floor: Soak up pee and sanitize surfaces. Scrub cloth kitchen chair.
7. Pile up all the nasty clothes and towels and cleaning rags, start a load of laundry.
8. Wash hands thoroughly.
9. Give child a big hug and tell her you love her anyway.
10. Reheat lunch and finish eating.
11. Repeat again 2 hours later.