Feb 14, 2008
Feb 11, 2008
Natural cures for broken bones
The other day Chris and Aiden were wrestling around. Aiden accidentally got hurt. When asked what happened he turned to dad and said accusingly, "You broke my skeleton in half!"
Who'd a thunk Chris could do that? It must have been all that practice on those cadavers at school. We don't rack up all those student loans for nuthin! I'm going to start calling Chris "Dr. Bonesaw".
Of course, being a future wellness doctor, Chris fixed Aiden's broken bones miraculously with a tickle, a lot of giggles, and some cuddles. Sometimes the best fixes are the natural ones.
Who'd a thunk Chris could do that? It must have been all that practice on those cadavers at school. We don't rack up all those student loans for nuthin! I'm going to start calling Chris "Dr. Bonesaw".
Of course, being a future wellness doctor, Chris fixed Aiden's broken bones miraculously with a tickle, a lot of giggles, and some cuddles. Sometimes the best fixes are the natural ones.
Feb 5, 2008
Stubborn to the mat!
Jonah was calling his brother stubborn. Actually he was saying "Stubbort", but, being the incredibly clever mom that I am and being so up on monkey-speak, I knew what he was getting at.
"Do you even know what stubborn means Jonah?" I asked.
"Do you?" He replied (isn't he sweet?)
Me: "Let's look it up my friend. Go get the dictionary"
The definition is this: Unreasonably, often perversely unyielding; bullheaded. Firmly resolved or determined; resolute. Difficult to treat or deal with; resistant to treatment or effort.
Jonah: "I don't even know what any of that means!"
Me: "It means someone who won't do anything they don't want to do. That's you! Stubborn to the max!"
Jonah: "You're stubborn to the mat!"
"Do you even know what stubborn means Jonah?" I asked.
"Do you?" He replied (isn't he sweet?)
Me: "Let's look it up my friend. Go get the dictionary"
The definition is this: Unreasonably, often perversely unyielding; bullheaded. Firmly resolved or determined; resolute. Difficult to treat or deal with; resistant to treatment or effort.
Jonah: "I don't even know what any of that means!"
Me: "It means someone who won't do anything they don't want to do. That's you! Stubborn to the max!"
Jonah: "You're stubborn to the mat!"
CPS is knocking on my door
Sometimes, when my children ask me what else they can have, I reply, "You can have a beating." Jonah has come to think this is quite fun. He tells the others, in whispered tones, "a beating means you get tickled".
This morning at breakfast he asked and I replied with the usual "You can have a beating." In a very resigned, monotone voice he says, "Ok mom. I'd like a beating. Take me out of my chair and into the living room and you can beat me good. Oh wait, let me clean my face first, then you can beat me."
I had to giggle. If CPS could hear us now! Hopefully they don't have the place bugged or they'll be knocking down my door any second now.
This morning at breakfast he asked and I replied with the usual "You can have a beating." In a very resigned, monotone voice he says, "Ok mom. I'd like a beating. Take me out of my chair and into the living room and you can beat me good. Oh wait, let me clean my face first, then you can beat me."
I had to giggle. If CPS could hear us now! Hopefully they don't have the place bugged or they'll be knocking down my door any second now.
Feb 4, 2008
The chapel doors seem to say to me . . .
Zoe and I have been having some interesting conversations lately. Usually they occur at church, as we're wandering the halls, trying NOT to sleep, be reverent, or sit still. All skills she's mastered (the not part, that is) but feels no one can develop too much. She's trying to teach me her skills and grows restless at my lack of teachability (teachableness? learnin? padewan-focus? What's the right word here?). A few incredibly uplifting Sabbath days ago, I was trying desperately to distract my little exhausted whirl-wind of temper tantrum from my Restlessness Lessons (I truly am a poor padewan) and we stood by the doors to the church looking out at the world.
"What do you see?" I asked.
Zoe: "doddy!" (for those of you not up on Zoe-speak, I'll translate. That means doggie)
me: "What's it doing?"
Zoe: "ee bapple." (eating apples)
Me: "Really? What's a doggy say?"
Zoe: "I on bapple!" (I want apples!)
When I told the kids this on the way home, they about busted a gut laughing. Zoe had no idea what was funny but she joined in with her extra-loud courtesy laugh. Jonah, had he not been buckled in his car seat (aren't I a conscientious, law-abiding mom?), would have fallen out of his chair. As it was, he almost had an anurism from laughing so hard. Is that possible? Chris will read this and roll his eyes at my lack of medical knowledge. Jonah still asks me to repeat this story regularly and asks Zoe what a doggy says in the hopes she'll say "I on bapple".
Yesterday, another lovely, uplifting and spiritually fulfilling Sabbath day, Zoe slipped away from me. I promise I only looked away for a nano-second and turned back to find her little legs a-blur as she booked it down the hall. I had no idea she was so familiar with what was behind all those closed doors, but apparently she's a lot more aware than I give her credit for. No wonder she gets so frustrated with me! As she's running as fast as her little legs can carry her (which happens to be a smidge faster than mom can run in her skirt and stupid-church shoes) she's calling out to the doors:
(running past the nursery) "I on (want) pay toys! I on kakkers!" (crackers)
"I on pa-ee" (past the bathroom, holding herself like her role-model Aiden does)
"I on dink!" (past the drinking fountain)
"I on dad-ee!" (past the primary room)
"I on dad-ee!" (past the library)
(Arriving at daddy's classroom door) "DAD-EEEE!!!!!!!"
Turns out the kiddos on his side of the door were louder than the screaming toddler without and he didn't hear the ruckus. The Bishop's door started to open however, so I snatched up my disciple of Satan and ducked into the nearest open door before he could come out and, I don't know? Excommunicate us? Give her a sucker and bring out even more of her restless-super-powers? Give me a calling in Nursery? Why risk it?
Once again, Jonah found this all to be particularly hilarious. I think he's living vicariously through Zoe and misses the good ol' days!
I can't wait to see what next Sunday will bring! Oooh! Stake Conference! Plenty of fodder for Zoe's Restlessness lessons. Who knows, perhaps Aiden will join in on the fun and give me a few pointers too!
"What do you see?" I asked.
Zoe: "doddy!" (for those of you not up on Zoe-speak, I'll translate. That means doggie)
me: "What's it doing?"
Zoe: "ee bapple." (eating apples)
Me: "Really? What's a doggy say?"
Zoe: "I on bapple!" (I want apples!)
When I told the kids this on the way home, they about busted a gut laughing. Zoe had no idea what was funny but she joined in with her extra-loud courtesy laugh. Jonah, had he not been buckled in his car seat (aren't I a conscientious, law-abiding mom?), would have fallen out of his chair. As it was, he almost had an anurism from laughing so hard. Is that possible? Chris will read this and roll his eyes at my lack of medical knowledge. Jonah still asks me to repeat this story regularly and asks Zoe what a doggy says in the hopes she'll say "I on bapple".
Yesterday, another lovely, uplifting and spiritually fulfilling Sabbath day, Zoe slipped away from me. I promise I only looked away for a nano-second and turned back to find her little legs a-blur as she booked it down the hall. I had no idea she was so familiar with what was behind all those closed doors, but apparently she's a lot more aware than I give her credit for. No wonder she gets so frustrated with me! As she's running as fast as her little legs can carry her (which happens to be a smidge faster than mom can run in her skirt and stupid-church shoes) she's calling out to the doors:
(running past the nursery) "I on (want) pay toys! I on kakkers!" (crackers)
"I on pa-ee" (past the bathroom, holding herself like her role-model Aiden does)
"I on dink!" (past the drinking fountain)
"I on dad-ee!" (past the primary room)
"I on dad-ee!" (past the library)
(Arriving at daddy's classroom door) "DAD-EEEE!!!!!!!"
Turns out the kiddos on his side of the door were louder than the screaming toddler without and he didn't hear the ruckus. The Bishop's door started to open however, so I snatched up my disciple of Satan and ducked into the nearest open door before he could come out and, I don't know? Excommunicate us? Give her a sucker and bring out even more of her restless-super-powers? Give me a calling in Nursery? Why risk it?
Once again, Jonah found this all to be particularly hilarious. I think he's living vicariously through Zoe and misses the good ol' days!
I can't wait to see what next Sunday will bring! Oooh! Stake Conference! Plenty of fodder for Zoe's Restlessness lessons. Who knows, perhaps Aiden will join in on the fun and give me a few pointers too!
Feb 3, 2008
Ain't I somethin' special!
Today I am feeling very fed as a mom (or is that fed-up?). I am overwhelmed at the miriad of ways my children show me I am important to them and considered pretty darn special. Apparently my baby Zoe thinks I'm the cat's pajamas. She loves me so tenderly and overwhelmingly that the second I leave the room she misses greatly and her dulcent tones can be heard beckoning me back to her. Her little arms ache to be around my neck and her little legs desire to be wrapped around my waist as if they belong there. She would so like to be a part of me again, that it is an affront to nature to put her down. Ever.
Zoe's overwhelming need to be near me was evidenced a couple nights ago. At 2 o'clock (in the a.m.) my unimportant dreams were interrupted by her melodious siren song calling out to me, beckoning me to join her for nighttime fun. She missed me so much that the need for sleep was overwhelmed by her desire to spend time with her beautiful mother (obviously she's oblivious to the medusa-like hair, the smeared make-up, the drool tracks down my chin, and the scraggy red bathrobe with the pocket pathetically hanging by a thread for dear life. It too doesn't want to be without my presence). We cuddled and followed her bedtime ritual again, including singing "I am a child of God". Apparently she couldn't get enough of my spectacular singing voice and insisted on repeating the ritual 3 times before I could leave the room without being called back. Even then, the door was too much of a barrier between she and I and had to be left open. If I snuck to close the door to prevent her being awoken by Chris's 5:30- am- getting-ready- noises, the screaming (er, siren song) started anew. Eventually, the need for sleep won out and she drifted off to sleep. However, at 5 o'clock, she was missing her dear old mom again and beckoned me forth to play again. Having rested up, she was ready for a full day of exploring the various uses of mom, namely~a trampoline, a security blanket, a napkin, a conversationalist, a sounding board, a midnight snack bringer, a drink-fetcher, among others.
Aiden obviously loves to hear my voice. He feigns deafness and ignorance to my pleas, simply so he can hear my lovely voice ask him 20 more times to complete a task. I often find him vying for my attention. He's clever, and will use all tactics necessary to garner my singular focus. He's discovered that talking loudly, especially when someone is sleeping, yields immediate results. Also climbing up onto, and jumping off of high places will also yield mom's consideration. His latest tactic is waiting until I think he's safely buckled in this car seat. As I run in to get a last forgotten-item, I find him slipped houdini-like out of his carseat and pushing the buttons for all the lights. This act always sucks mom in. Teaching Zoe to do it too yields extra loud attention, and if he's lucky, mom won't catch all of the lights, leave them on all night, and in the morning the car battery will be dead and he can soak up time with mom at home ALL DAY!.
Aiden also cannot bear to be without my presence so much that he refuses to go to the bathroom without me. Yep, he's been potty trained for some time now, but he knows that I'm so interesting that if he leaves me long enough to take a whiz, he'll miss out on the fun. And you can't pause mom like you can shows ~ She's just too darn spontaneous. So, he'll dance, he'll cross his legs, he'll wiggle like a water-weenie until his eyeballs start to float, all in the name of being near me and hearing me suggest sweetly "JUST GO POTTY ALREADY BEFORE YOU PEE YOUR PANTS!" See why he can't stand to leave me?
For Jonah, he feels a special affinity to the way I say "vegetables". The louder I say it, the more repetitions, the better. He truly does love those green "sports candies", but if he eats them willingly, then how else can he coerce me into saying his favorite word so many times? My kids are clever and manipulative I tell ya, but it's all in the name of their love for me right? So how can I resent it? Who says being a mom is a tough job and doesn't pay enough! I feel so loved right now, I'm about ready to spontaneously combust! KA-BLOOIE!!!
Zoe's overwhelming need to be near me was evidenced a couple nights ago. At 2 o'clock (in the a.m.) my unimportant dreams were interrupted by her melodious siren song calling out to me, beckoning me to join her for nighttime fun. She missed me so much that the need for sleep was overwhelmed by her desire to spend time with her beautiful mother (obviously she's oblivious to the medusa-like hair, the smeared make-up, the drool tracks down my chin, and the scraggy red bathrobe with the pocket pathetically hanging by a thread for dear life. It too doesn't want to be without my presence). We cuddled and followed her bedtime ritual again, including singing "I am a child of God". Apparently she couldn't get enough of my spectacular singing voice and insisted on repeating the ritual 3 times before I could leave the room without being called back. Even then, the door was too much of a barrier between she and I and had to be left open. If I snuck to close the door to prevent her being awoken by Chris's 5:30- am- getting-ready- noises, the screaming (er, siren song) started anew. Eventually, the need for sleep won out and she drifted off to sleep. However, at 5 o'clock, she was missing her dear old mom again and beckoned me forth to play again. Having rested up, she was ready for a full day of exploring the various uses of mom, namely~a trampoline, a security blanket, a napkin, a conversationalist, a sounding board, a midnight snack bringer, a drink-fetcher, among others.
Aiden obviously loves to hear my voice. He feigns deafness and ignorance to my pleas, simply so he can hear my lovely voice ask him 20 more times to complete a task. I often find him vying for my attention. He's clever, and will use all tactics necessary to garner my singular focus. He's discovered that talking loudly, especially when someone is sleeping, yields immediate results. Also climbing up onto, and jumping off of high places will also yield mom's consideration. His latest tactic is waiting until I think he's safely buckled in this car seat. As I run in to get a last forgotten-item, I find him slipped houdini-like out of his carseat and pushing the buttons for all the lights. This act always sucks mom in. Teaching Zoe to do it too yields extra loud attention, and if he's lucky, mom won't catch all of the lights, leave them on all night, and in the morning the car battery will be dead and he can soak up time with mom at home ALL DAY!.
Aiden also cannot bear to be without my presence so much that he refuses to go to the bathroom without me. Yep, he's been potty trained for some time now, but he knows that I'm so interesting that if he leaves me long enough to take a whiz, he'll miss out on the fun. And you can't pause mom like you can shows ~ She's just too darn spontaneous. So, he'll dance, he'll cross his legs, he'll wiggle like a water-weenie until his eyeballs start to float, all in the name of being near me and hearing me suggest sweetly "JUST GO POTTY ALREADY BEFORE YOU PEE YOUR PANTS!" See why he can't stand to leave me?
For Jonah, he feels a special affinity to the way I say "vegetables". The louder I say it, the more repetitions, the better. He truly does love those green "sports candies", but if he eats them willingly, then how else can he coerce me into saying his favorite word so many times? My kids are clever and manipulative I tell ya, but it's all in the name of their love for me right? So how can I resent it? Who says being a mom is a tough job and doesn't pay enough! I feel so loved right now, I'm about ready to spontaneously combust! KA-BLOOIE!!!
Feb 1, 2008
President Hinkley
As I received the news of President Hinkley's passing on Sunday night, I felt a strange mix of emotions. He has been the prophet for most of my life. His passing is a milestone in my life's journey. Yet, with all of the emotions, I can feel no sorrow. Two emotions loom large for me. Gratitude and joy. I feel so much gratitude for the many years of service he rendered to the Church, to the world, to the work. He gave so selflessly for his entire life and accomplished so much, especially in the field of temple building and dedications. I'm grateful for his example, the kind and beautiful ways he represented the Savior and taught me His words. But my most powerful emotion is joy. My abiding thought is that he is finally reunited with his sweet Marjorie. How much joy he must be feeling! Who could be more ready to meet his Maker than President Hinkley?
My friend sent a beautiful video that reminded me of how many years of selfless service he gave, and how many temples he dedicated/had built, and how much the whole world will be blessed in priceless and eternal ways from his hard work and dedication.
"Let us all try to stand a little taller, rise a little higher, be a little better. Make the extra effort. You will be happier. You will know a new satisfaction, a new gladness in your heart."
Farewell dear President Hinkley! Though, I know you will still be working as hard as always, I pray you will find peace and joy in the presence of long-lost loved ones. You will be missed!
My friend sent a beautiful video that reminded me of how many years of selfless service he gave, and how many temples he dedicated/had built, and how much the whole world will be blessed in priceless and eternal ways from his hard work and dedication.
"Let us all try to stand a little taller, rise a little higher, be a little better. Make the extra effort. You will be happier. You will know a new satisfaction, a new gladness in your heart."
Farewell dear President Hinkley! Though, I know you will still be working as hard as always, I pray you will find peace and joy in the presence of long-lost loved ones. You will be missed!
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