Aiden, Aiden. Wherefore art thou Aiden?

I know Aiden doesn't hear me. I talk, and talk, and talk until I'm blue in the face and he doesn't hear me. I know his ears work. You say the word chocolate or pizza and his ears sprout satellite dishes that can pinpoint the sound of my voice to the exact geographic location. Ask him to do something for me? His ears shut completely off. I've known this for a while now ~ that he's deaf to my voice ~ but yesterday I finally got a glimpse into what he actually hears when I talk.

We were trying to head out the door to go to the library. I'm struggling to do a very wiggly Zoe's hair and I asked him to get his shoes and put them by the front door. He walks away and I don't see him for several minutes. When he returns I ask him if he took his shoes to the front door. "Oh! No! Just a minute." and he disappears down the hall again. Again he's absent for several minutes. When he returns I ask again, "did you put your shoes by the front door?"

"What?" He says as he absently begins digging in a drawer for something forbidden to play with.

My hands are caught up in the little rubber bands that are half in Zoe's hair as she's turning the sink on full blast and squirting soap all over her sleeve. "Did you put your shoes by the front door?" I repeat.


"No."

I'm counting to ten under my breath . . ."Why . . . not . . .?" I ask desperately trying to hang on to what's left of my sanity.

"You told me to take care of my dirty clothes. I did that."

I was shocked. I'd been asking him to do that all morning. Now he finally does it!? "Actually I asked you to get your shoes and put them by the front door." I state as I rescue the roll of toilet paper before Zoe can unwind the whole thing.

He stares blankly off into space. Then he proceeds to grill me with questions about Star Wars and if Wolverine can beat up a jedi. "Aiden," I interrupt, "Look at me." He looks over at my knees. "Look at my eyeballs!" I amend. It takes several seconds but he finally meets my gaze. I use my slow, deliberate voice, "Please . . take your shoes . . . to the front door." He nods and walks off.

Meanwhile, Zoe's attempting to climb up on the sink and kiss her reflection in the mirror. He returns quickly. "Did you get your shoes?" I ask.

"No." He replies.

I'm beyond exasperated at this point. "Why not!?" I ask in a decidedly not very loving mommy voice.

"Because!" He says in an equally exasperated tone, "You . . told me . . . to go . . . lock the front door!"

KILL Em!!!! . . . with kindness :)

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. As I lay there in the darkness, willing myself back to sleep, my mind decided to traitorously stay awake, whilst replaying the many times I was a bad mommy and yelled at my kids that day. It had been one of those days where the children had developed a selective deafness that only seemed to tune out my voice. Where no amount of asking nicely, begging, warning, or pleading could get through the apparent fog that would blot out my voice and prevent it from meeting with their tympanic membranes. For some reason, the only time they could hear me was when I screamed at the top of my voice and adopted my "angry eyes". It was NOT a good day with the monkeys. In fact, there have been way too many Not Good days around here.

I was filled with sadness as I thought of all the times I yelled and how those words were so counter-productive. It wasn't deafness, it was self-defense. Maybe if I hadn't yelled so much to begin with, they would be more receptive to my voice? I thought of how wounded they must feel to have someone who is supposed to love you most yell at you all day. I put myself in their little shoes and began to consider how much it hurts when someone I love is mad at me. I tend to curl in on myself and slap up a big wall of self-defense. I get angry. I know I did something stupid. I already dislike myself for it and don't need someone I love pointing it out to me. I just want that person to remember (and to remind me) that I'm a good person. That, even if I did something so stupid that I would have had to have the intelligence of a rock, that that's not really me. I basically want to know that I'm a good person and that I just made a mistake, but that it doesn't affect my goodness or a smartness or love-able-ness.

Isn't that basically what my kids want? Don't they already know they did something wrong? Does my screaming fix anything or just make them erect their own wall of self-defense? Doesn't it just make them lash back while they're desperately wanting to know that I still love them, that they're good people who just made a mistake? Wouldn't I be much more effective if I talked to them about it in a loving way?

I began to see how everything has been spiraling out of control and how this has become a vicious cycle of me being overwhelmed, yelling at them to stop a bad behavior, they come away wounded from the encounter and shut down to prevent further hurt, then when I approach them again, they've lost respect for me and they're less receptive . . . I end up overwhelmed again . . . hence the yelling. It's sick. I started to pray. Pray for forgiveness and the strength to change. I prayed for inspiration and more love for these little people. I don't want to see them as a burden or the hard things in my life. They should be the greatest source of joy. They deserve to be treated like the amazing little people they are.

I thought about what I want most when I'm feeling wounded and out of control. The answer was . . . a hug, a kind word, an affirmation that I'm okay and still loved. Hence my new motto. Are you ready for this? IF THEY'RE HAVING A HARD TIME, GIVE 'EM A HUG!! I just kept playing it over and over in my mind. "If they're having a hard time, give 'em a hug!" Sounds simple right?

I got up the next morning, tired, but full of hope for a better day, more love for these little people, and more determination to fix the damage I'd slowly but surely been doing. Zoe was the first awake and by her surly demeanor, it was obvious she was up too early. Everytime she began to shriek, I hugged her (even when my tired, adrenally-taxed, thyroid-dead body wanted to strangle her). Jonah woke up all smiles (something I realized I don't see very often, probably because he's always expecting a berating--who would want to get up for that?). I pulled him in my lap and gave him a big hug, which multiplied his grin and my determination. I told him I knew I hadn't been a very nice mommy and that I was so sorry for ever yelling at him. That he was a good kid who deserved much better and that I was determined to be better for him. I told him I had a project and asked him if he'd like to join with me. He eagerly agreed and mission Kill 'Em With Kindness was born.

The rules are this . . .

• If someone is having a hard time, we give them a hug (Jonah ammended that tickles -or beatings as we often refer to them--work really well too).
  

• When we can't physically give them a hug (such as when we are at the kitchen table and should not be popping out of our chairs a million times) we will "Say a hug." Meaning, we think of something we like about that person and we tell them.
  

(I keep thinking about the part on The Incredibles where Bob and Helen Parr are running through the jungle. She's ticked at him and isn't hiding it. He says, "You keep trying to pick a fight, but I'm just so happy you're still alive!" It's hard to stay mad at someone when they can only say good things back!)

• Pray for that person.

• If we hurt someone, we apologize fast.
  

Simple right? In theory yes, but not always in practice. It's still not easy. Some moments my mantra is "You love this person, you don't want to kill them! You love this person, you don't want to kill them!" I'm still feeling overwhelmed all too often and Evil Mom slips out with her angry eyes and mean words. But I'm getting better at lasso-ing the wench and forcing her back in the bullpen. Hugs are more abundant, including kind words and tickles. It is SO not easy sometimes. But it is definitely worth it. I'm starting to see these times when my kids are out of control and choosing to do something that I can't stand as an opportunity to prove how much I love them. The times when the hubby gets on my nerves the most is an opportunity to show him love and build him up. When I'm in the right frame of mind, I'm not surrounded with annoyances and intrusions anymore, just opportunities to prove to these people that even when they are acting to most un-loveable, I still adore them and that they are good people who are just having a hard time. I'm beginning to recognize how many opportunities I have to build loving memories with the people I love the most. I want them to remember that when they were having a hard time, mom was always ready with a hug and reassurance. So there you have it . . . I'm gonna kill them! . . . With kindness!

How to make toddler soup

So, Zoe has a yeast rash on her bum that doesn't seem to want to go away. We were so desperate we tried the anti-yeast cream and it cleared up, but I can't stand using such harsh steroids on her little body. Plus the darn rash came back! Anyhoo . . . I was reading that some good natural cures for yeast infections are apple cider vinegar and garlic. There are so many foods that are natural cures for yucky stuff that I'm not surprised.

Tonight I'm giving Zoe a bath in Mimi and Pop's deep sink with some garlic and apple cider vinegar smells wafting up in the steam. Her shampoo and conditioner are perfumed with apricot. On top of that, when she's wet, I rub olive oil with almond extract all over her as an awesome and completely natural moisturizer. I haven't had dinner yet and my stomach is growling. I'm thinking how wrong it is that I'm salivating over my baby's bath water. Well then, she sees a measuring cup with a measuring spoon on the counter and starts using the one to fill the other up. As she's measuring and pouring she asks me, "Mom, do you want some soup? I'm making soup. It's berrry gooood! It's be berry good for your body!" I had to giggle. Turkey soup anyone???

Back in the Saddle Again

Well, I have fallen off the blogging horse, and I'm just hanging onto the stirrups by my fingernails (er, toenails?), debating whether to just let go, or inch my way up the saddle and in true Lone Ranger style, throw myself back in the saddle. The mere thought of trying to play catch-up on the craziness of my life is daunting, to say the least. Not to mention the fact that I already tried this post twice and blogger kept losing my stuff . . . AAAGGGHH!! But, what the heck, I say, "Heigh Ho Silver! Away!"

(Please insert the tune to "Back in the Saddle Again" for full analogy effect)

December was truly a whirlwind!! I'm still reeling and dizzy. It started out with a wonderful visit from my parents! To understand just how wonderful this was, you have to keep in mind that the last three visits my parents tried to do were thwarted due to my amazing Grandmother Glo's (my Dad's Mom) failing health and consequently, the moving of her and my Grandpa into my parents home. Worthy reasons for not coming, to be sure, but still a big bummer when their trips were canceled (especially considering it meant Grandma wasn't well). This time they made fail-safe arrangements for my Grandparents and came out for Chris's graduation from Chiropractic school. (Did I happen to mention that he graduated??!!) We spent almost a week with them and the kiddos were spoiled crazy with the extra attention (Zoe especially took a special liking to Grandpa and still continues to ask for him). And Chris and I were spoiled with the ability to go out sans-kids and have some adult time. Too fun!

After all of the graduation excitement, we sent my parents home (much to the dismay of Miss Zoe). It turned out to be a really crappy day. My parents went straight from the airport to a doctor's appointment for my dad. This is where he found out that his kidneys are in really bad shape, possibly failing, and that there is a distinct chance he will eventually need a transplant. As Chris and I were Christmas shopping that night (Thanks again Ogdens for watching the monkeys for us! You guys rock!), I get a call from my mom. She fills me in on the kidney news as they're finally traveling to their home from the dr's appointment. I hang up with her and 15 minutes later I get another call from her. While my parents were 10 minutes from home (keep in mind that they went straight from the airport to the dr's appointment and haven't been home for a week now) . . . they get a call from my aunt Penny (who also lives with them) and find out that my amazing, beautiful, sweet, wonderful Grandmother Glo had just passed away. Grandma had had some complications while my parents were visiting us, so it wasn't entirely a surprise, but they were 10-15 minutes away from seeing her and saying goodbye . . . Talk about crappy!

Unfortunately my Grandma's funeral was on the day we were moving to Oklahoma (I know, "Crazy lady say what?!) and I was unable to attend. I was told it was a wonderful program celebrating her amazing life. Though I lament the fact that I was not able to be there to mourn with those that mourn, in a Pollyanna way, I'm also grateful that all of my memories of her are of her being younger, beautiful, vivacious, whole, able, and with a functioning brain (much the way I imagine she is now on the other side of the veil).

You did hear me right back there . . . We moved to Oklahoma just before Christmas. I have been accused of being stealthy and stealing away in the night, we took off so suddenly and quietly. It truly wasn't intentional. We'd been preparing for this move for a while now (as evidenced by our full storage unit and our staged-for-selling home), but we just hadn't figured out the date of the actual move yet. We decided, packed up, and two days later were on the move to our new home. Unfortunately we have not sold our home in Texas yet. Apparently the housing market has gotten even worse and we'd be so upside down if we sold now, we'd actually owe tons of money. Yuck! So, now we're looking into renting it out (know anyone who needs to rent a nice home in Keller?). We are currently living with Chris's parents in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma (a suburb of Tulsa, a.k.a, the place where Chris was born and raised). Believe it or not, it has been a wonderful situation and an HUGE blessing to us (although I can't vouch for what his parents think after a couple months of our insanity, but nobody's dead yet, so that should tell you something). I must say however, they must be saints!

Christmas was wonderful! The monkies were spoiled mercilessly. My favorite present came in the form of a letter stating that my Father-in-law had a reservation for a week stay in a condo in Bella Vista, Arkansas. Turns out, the reservation was actually for Chris and me. Mimi and Pop were offering to watch the mini-monkies for up to a week so we could have some free/adult/fun time! (Did you hear my "Woo! Hoo!" from where you are?) It was actually really hard to leave the little ones behind. I fretted like crazy, even though I knew they couldn't be in better hands. It was a strange mixture of missing them and thrilled to be away from them at the same time as we drove the two and a half hours to Bella Vista. I'd never been to Arkansas and had no idea what to expect, so I wasn't prepared for this . . . It was BE-u-ti-FUL!! Granted, it was winter so the main color was brown, but I could just imagine how incredible it would be in the Spring, Summer, or Fall. We got to stay in a cute little condo, equipped with mini kitchen and washer/dryer, etc. It was so nice people! No little people to remind that furniture is not for jumping on . . . and that there are people upstairs and next door so stop screaming and wrestling before they call the Arkansas police on us for abuse . . . oh, and no little bodies trapped in a small condo ready to explode from boredom . . .Just me and the Hubs, for 4 whole days . . .by ourselves! ** Sigh!!** We had a blast . . . we played mini golf, worked out at the on site gym together, went hot-tubbing, hiked some beautiful nature trails, watched and ate whatever we wanted, stayed up 'til all hours (ok, midnight, this girl's no spring chicken anymore), and best of all ~slept in!!!~. Too cool. Sometimes I was tempted to feel bad and miss the kids, then I would call them and was reminded that they were having a blast and were behaving like complete angels for Mimi and Pop. They went to the zoo, flew model airplanes with Pop, played and had a ball as evidenced by these pictures.

By the time the four days were over, Chris and I couldn't wait to get back and hug those kiddos. Absence makes the heart grow fonder right?

As far as the whole reason we're here ~ To start up Chris's Chiropractic Practice~ things are moving along steadily. There's so much to think about and do, but we've been blessed with so many huge blessings along the way (so many that it would require another post to tell about them) it's hard not to know we're on the right path. Panacea Wellness and Chiropractic should be opened by April. Woo Hoo!!! Now if Chris can just survive all of the stress until then! :)

So . . . here we are . . . the kids are established in school, Chris and I were just called to teach the CTR 7 class in our new ward, the practice is getting underway, we're all still alive and ticking . . . Life is pretty good (hectic, crazy, chaotic, exciting, a jungle, a madhouse, nutsy, zoolike, and riotous, but good nevertheless.) Feel caught up? Well, the fat lady is singing and I'm ready to be done with this post. Back in the saddle again? We shall see . . . Tune in next week to see if the injuns let the intrepid hero live to post another day. . .

Bella Vista Rocks!

This is the post where I get to be one of those obnoxious friends who lures you to her house with promises of a game night or treats, or something equally innocuous but . . . upon entering, you discover her ulterior motive as you spy the slide projector and screen all assembled and cued up to elucidate every in and out of her summer vacation (ok, winter in my case). So sit back, pull up a chair, please suppress your yawns, and you're welcome to pop some popcorn for what will most certainly be a thrill-a-minute ride. (Ha, ha, . . . Suckers!) :)


I mentioned in my catch-up post that Chris and I enjoyed a wonderful little getaway to Bella Vista, Arkansas courtesy of Chris's parents. This is what we enjoyed . . .

Our little condo had a mini-kitchen where we actually cooked a few healthy meals.


The adjacent living room where we did a lot of vegging and napping. (you're jealous of the carefree lifestyle, aren't you? I know I am.)


Bella Vista was surprisingly beautiful! It was cold and brown, but beautiful considering we went in the dead of winter. We went on a nature trail hike and found these beautiful sights . . .
(Chris says I look like I'm photoshopped into this picture. Was I really there? Oh, You don't know!)

We got some raucous teeny-boppers to take this picture for us. They then proceeded to climb over the fence into the forbidden area and torture this poor waterfall with their cacophony of teenage-ness. Tsk, tsk!


A local reservoir . . . Isn't it quaint with all of the cute little houses? Nice place for a summer home eh? We're looking into that little white one in the middle with our vast amounts of wealth. We'll be sure to show you lots of slides of it when we get it. You're so fortunate to be our friends aren't you?


On our nature trail hike there were some wild rock formations just beggin' to be climbed on (and sat upon) . . . and we obnoxiously obliged . . . and took pictures of our helpfulness.



All in all, Bella Vista was a nice place and a wonderful opportunity to relax and let our hair down a little bit . . .


Obviously some of us let our hair down more than others . . .


So (will someone please turn up the lights?) do you feel enlightened yet? Do you wish you had been there? Well, if you're lucky I'll send you a t-shirt . . . but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. It's an unhealthy practice.

Who knew?

. . . that Elmo was such a trouble maker . . . Who knew that this sweet, furry little monster is sadistically out to get my 8 year old daughter?

Zoe was bestowed an Elmo Live for Christmas. He's adorable! He sings, he dances, he tells jokes, plays games, hugs and blows kisses with a cute little reminder that "Elmo loves you! Mmm Hmm. Kiss-kiss!" Zoe is so smitten! She plays with him almost all day and never seems to get tired of him.

Kolbi, however, seems to be the target for Elmo's darker side. . . Kolbi and Zoe now share a room, so it stands to reason that they would both have their toys stored there at night. Elmo's fiendish campaign started not too long after Christmas . . . Kolbi ~ who had supposedly been sleeping for the last half-hour~ crept quietly out of their room and over to where Chris and I were watching a show. "Mom, Elmo is staring at me." She says sheepishly. Being the ever-loving-and-understanding parent that I am, I tell her to turn him around and go back to bed. "But Mom, he creeps me out!" With a flourish and a sigh, I promptly get up, and move Elmo out of the room and into the hallway. She's satisfied and gratefully returns to her bed.

The next night, I find out that the sadistic little son-of-a-monster, Elmo, has the patience of Job when pursuing his prey. Kolbi again asks me to move Elmo out of the room for the night. But she has a special request that I not put him in the hallway, because when she got up to go to the bathroom this morning, Elmo was waiting for her with evil-intent shining up at her from those beady eyes. She was so scared she decided to hold it until the sun came up. Poor thing . . . her eyeballs were swimming when the rooster finally crowed!

For some weeks, Kolbi would remind me every night to please remove Elmo and keep him out of the hallway. I've obliged~ to keep the peace~ even when Zoe caught on that her precious Elmo was being banished every night and pitched an ever-loving fit. So, every night I've been condemning poor Elmo to face the wall (where his malicious eyes cannot find Kolbi), and around the corner (so he can't lie in wait for her to unsuspectingly need to tinkle and pounce on her). All the time thinking it's silly and not taking her very seriously.

Last night, the Hubs and I were in our room talking, when we hear a whisper of a knock on our door. It's Kolbi. Apparently, she got up to go to the bathroom and on her way back, she spied Elmo in his appointed corner (or rather she saw his hand as it was the only part of him that was remotely visible). "He moved Mom!" She tells me. "Honey," I placate, "Elmo's turned off, he can't move." "No Mom!" She insists, "I think I saw his hand move! It scared me! Could you walk with me back to my room?" Chris and I share an amused look and I escort her back to her bed.

"This has got to stop," I'm thinking and sit her down for a little talk. "You do realize that Elmo's not real, don't you?" I ask.

"Yes," She replies. "But he still scares me."

"Even during the day when Zoe's playing with him?"

"Yeah, a little." She sheepishly replies.

"Why?!" I ask, bewildered.

"I don't know Mom, he's just creepy!"

I tell her to visualize (every time thoughts of him start to scare her) her picking Elmo up, turning him upside down and flipping the switch on his left foot to the off position. "When he's off, he can't move" I emphasize. "He becomes like a furry, red little piece of furniture. But please don't sit on him. Zoe would never forgive you for crushing her best friend." She giggles, the mood's lightened. "Besides Kolbi . . ." I remind her " . . . Elmo loves you! Mmm hmmm! Kiss-kiss!"

Bear with me . . .

Please "Bear" with me . . . . I really am trying to do a new post, but life is kicking my booty and blogger is being a 2 year old.