The Last Two

It's a somewhat drawn out story, and it is all nicely recorded in my journal-but for background sake. I will say, after Ellie was born, Mike and I felt as though we could be "finished" with the three kids that we had. We weren't in a rush really either way to make any final decisions.

I (and I'm sure Mike too) will never forget the Saturday night in January of 2006 when I said to Mike, "We need to have two more children. They are boys." I remember Mike was laying in bed reading, and he looked up at me and said, "Okay."

(This is a public blog and my parents and grandmother read this--so I'll decline writing the next part of his response...)

Of course the rest of the story is history.

Although I will add that throughout both of my pregnancies with Joshua and Drew, I doubted my own declaration. As with my pregnancy with Ellie, I opted not to "find out" what sex they were at my routine ultrasounds. I wanted two little boys so badly. I wanted my "spiritual experience" to be right. I had always wanted more boys than girls. I wanted two more boys.

I told my "spiritual experience" to my friend Lesley before I ever got pregnant with either. She is one of the most faith-filled people I know. She never doubted I would have boys and during each pregnancy she assured me she was sewing the "right color" blanket. (Although she never said which sex she was so sure about.) In a funny way, it was the thoughts of her sewing (hopefully boy) blankets that kept me going some days--especially during my labor with Joshua when the nurse told me she had read on my chart I was having a girl! (Long story...)

Lesley visited me in the hospital after each birth-proudly bringing me a boy blanket each time.

It has been over six years since my declaration of having two boys. Yet I think about it almost daily. Parenting Joshua and Drew, especially as they are the only ones home together all day is a different experience than I've had before. I've never had two of the same sex in a row-and it is a whole new experience. They are now at prime ages to really play together. They can play the same thing for much longer than any of  my other two children together would last playing. (There was only so much Tonka truck playing Megan tolerated with Luke, and not too much baby doll playing Luke would tolerate with Ellie, and only so much Hot Wheel playing Ellie would tolerate with Joshua...)

I love these two little boys.

Even though when together they think they have free reign over the kitchen pantry. And they dig dirt from the flowerbeds instead of from the sandbox. They leave Hot Wheels in all the wrong places. They favor pajamas more than clothes and they make more noise than the other three kids combined. Drew teases Joshua mercilessly and Joshua threatens Drew he's going to get a spank. They fight each other physically and they kiss each other to make-up. They each pick a thigh to sit on while reading a book on my lap. They sit next to each other on the couch and they hold hands in a parking lot.

I love Joshua and Drew.

My Windows are Dirty

While spending time with some dear girlfriends the other night, we had an epiphany of sorts. Though we all joked about it at the time, I have been left thinking about it for a couple more days.

One of my friends launched into a detailed story about her daughter's competition soccer team and the decision making process it took about whether or not to play in a tournament on a Sunday. It was all a fairly common scenario faced by many, especially in Utah within our LDS culture. We all surmised that in the same situation as my friend, we would have made the same decision and chosen to take a stand and not play.

Later on, our conversation steered to different topics. I can't even remember what (or who!) we were talking about, but suddenly we all had a 'light bulb' moment when we realized that "We won't allow our children to play soccer on a Sunday but we'll do 'this or that' instead..."

Get what I'm saying?

There are all sorts of rationalizations and justifications we give to ourselves!

After we all gave ourselves a proverbial pat on the back for deciding our children wouldn't play soccer on the Sabbath, we continued on with all sorts of stories and discussions in a typical women-getting-together-way.

You know the kind of stories.
We shared experiences and frustrations we'd had lately at school, or with church callings, or with family members, or with neighbors. Someone talked about the lady down the street, somebody talked about a naughty child at their kids' school, someone talked about the dysfunctional family across town.

Don't get me wrong. It was not an all-out gossip session. It was four friends, who have very few acquaintances-in-common, that were simply sharing frustrations, learning experiences and wanting advice on some everyday scenarios. Of course it was interspersed with plenty of hilarious and not-so-hilarious happenings within our own lives too.

But each time we kept coming back to the soccer thing... and one of us would say, "There's no way we'd allow our kids to play soccer on a Sunday but..." Though we were laughing at ourselves, I was reminded (more than once) that it isn't that our neighbors necessarily have dirty laundry--it's that our own windows are a little dirty...

Take a two minutes to watch this and see what I'm talking I'm about. I promise it will be well worth your time.

This week I am determined to clean my windows and keep them clean for longer than usual.
I assure you-FOR ME it will be easier said than done.

The Nothings

Recently I read a journal entry of mine, that reminded me of something Luke used to do that I had completely forgotten. This post is an effort to record all those tiny little things that would never be worthy of a blog post or journal entry on their own.

Each morning Ellie brushes her teeth in the bathroom downstairs at the very last minute, while I stand at the door and wait for the school bus to approach. I can see the roof of the bus from my front porch and she has enough time to spit, turn off the water and run to get on the bus in time. It is less than ideal really, but for Ellie's personality, and my teeth brushing uptightness it works for now.

Drew is a nightmare. He moves the bar stools constantly to climb the pantry, search cupboards, or get into the fridge. I try to relax. I try to tell myself I will one day wish for bar stools being used to search the pantry than an arguing teenage boy. But more often than not I lock the bar stools away in the office while stomping and complaining loudly.

Megan always has the messiest bedroom. Ellie never hangs up her towel. Luke leaves dirty socks scattered everywhere. Drew thinks he can make chocolate milk himself. I'm not sure Joshua knows we have a basket for shoes.

Joshua runs out of preschool with the same big grin he had on the very first day. It isn't that he loved preschool so much, it is that he is so happy to see me. I know it won't last forever, and every single time I can't help but smile too.

Some mornings we wake up to the sounds of Megan practicing the harp downstairs. The other mornings we listen for a good 30 minutes to her "snooze" alarm going off every five minutes.

Luke's excitement and enthusiasm about Mike being picked as a chaperone for a recent field trip was certainly something to remember. Mike's enthusiasm about accompanying 27 ten year-olds to a sewer plant didn't quite match up to Luke's.

Ellie still patiently leaves notes for fairies at bedtime. Her note-leaving is somewhat random, and the fairies don't ever seem to answer them in a timely manner. Although, I happened to notice last night that the fairy finally replied. Maybe Ellie has given up on checking. I have a feeling the fairy was a little disappointed this morning that the twirly handwritten response wasn't recognized!

Luke is a dream boy nearly every morning. He dresses, packs his lunch and goes about doing his stuff while the girls (and toddler) add too much drama, noise and wasted energy to the morning routine. Although Luke is constantly talking while doing said tasks-his attitude is more often than not a breath of fresh air each morning. Although Luke claims to never have "enough time" to fit in piano practicing in the morning, he usually always has time to work on a project.

Drew absolutely loves to sit on my lap and have me play Primary songs on the piano. I tire of the same old songs, but I absolutely love the way he links his legs around mine while he snuggles back against my chest.

One of our children clogs the toilet every time they go. One child can throw a tantrum of all tantrums. One child asks to eat every half hour without fail. One child throws things or tips things over when they don't get their way. One child can blow us away with their brief episodes of absolute disrespect.

Megan behavior borders on obnoxiousness more often than not. Too frequently Mike and I are telling her to "be quiet and stop." I've tried lately "to let the good times roll" because the alternative-a moody teenager is not exactly that wonderful either.

We are faithfully trying to read a Book of Mormon chapter each night. It is a nightmare nearly every time. We've slacked big time lately and grab a chapter here or there in the car instead. Each time the Book of Mormon CD's are pulled out in the car, there is much grumbling and murmuring from the back. Not sure what that says about our efforts. Yet we keep persisting.

Joshua is a homebody. If we go somewhere, he asks when we're going home. It's endearing and frustrating all mixed together.

When Drew is throwing a typical-toddler-temper-tantrum he removes the one item of clothing he is wearing. Yes, that would be his underwear. I never know whether to laugh or cry myself at the sight of my two year old laying on the floor kicking, screaming and wailing whilst stark naked.

This is our life.
Some days I want to cry from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Other times, I try my hardest to soak it all in and remember how quickly it is passing.

Nose Storage

Oh boy! I had really hoped to get on the ball with this "Photo Memory Project", but it just hasn't been happening. Doesn't help that I spent all day laying on my bed yesterday with some kind of cold/cough/sinus infection. And for me, who rarely ever gets sick, this sickness is kicking my butt. I dread playing catch-up after a couple of days of near-nothing, but such is life.

But yesterday while Joshua watched "Little Mermaid" for about the 43rd time in the past three days, (My younger kids RARELY make it all the way through movies, but Little Mermaid somehow has Joshua smitten.) I couldn't help but remember my now 26 year old brother who loved "Little Mermaid" when it first came out 20+ years ago. Which memory was then of course followed with those familiar anxieties I get of "Oh my word will I remember this?"

And with that-I'm pulling out a photo and doing a photo memory like I committed to.

True to what I said when introducing this project-this photo has absolutely no "photographic value" as far as a good photograph goes. Yet it captures a story that though was nothing more than a fleeting twenty minute period in Luke's life, I can't bear the thought of one day looking at this photo and forgetting what had happened.

(Nana, Luke and Mimi-April 2005)

Luke was 31/2 in this photo. Yes, even though it was the middle of a weekday afternoon playing at Nana and Grandpa's house, he was wearing his pajamas. (That's all he wore-well that or just underwear. Sound familiar?)

Luke went through a phase where he was constantly playing with trucks, trailers, tractors, etc. He favored the smaller ones. For whatever reason,  no matter how much Mike and I tried to tell him no, Luke loved to take the tires off of his little toys. We were forever finding vehicles with missing tires and/or miscellaneous tires lying around the house.

One day though he must have determined in his little 3 year old mind that he didn't want the tire he had just removed from his white John Deere truck to get lost. So he put it where he thought it would be best for safe-keeping.
???
His nose.

See that orange box to the left of my mother's head? That would be the first-aid kid which housed the necessary tweezers to begin the extraction necessary following the insertion of a rubber tire up a nostril.

I'm not sure exactly who retrieved the tire from his nose. In fact, if I remember correctly at the time of extraction none of us even knew exactly what it was we were attempting to extract.

Yet out came a little black tire.

All's well that ends well.
A package of candy must have been the reward for such bravery. Meaning Luke's bravery, not my mother's bravery for performing said surgery, despite her holding the candy in this photo.

I'd like to say he learned his lesson-but he stuck something up his nose one more time a few months later. A magnetic marble. And just as I inserted the tweezers to begin the marble extraction-voila!! I'm not sure who was more surprised, me or Luke at the speed in which it came out. I hadn't even considered that the metal-on-magnet would work so swiftly and instantly.

It's a pretty good rule of thumb to teach children-if you insert something in your nose-please make sure it is magnetic-it removes so much easier than a rubber John Deere truck tire.

US History according to Joshua

Joshua came out from pre-school two weeks ago proudly carrying an individual size pie each student made. A few minutes later, while eating lunch with one hand, Joshua proudly held his small cherry pie in the other. With his big trademark smile Joshua asked me,

 "Do you know why we made pies today?" Why? I asked. 

Joshua's reply: "Because Obama cut a tree down today."

It took me a few seconds, but I finally figured out what they really learned about today was George Washington and the cherry tree story. (Which yes, I know is a made-up story used only to illustrate Washington's honesty.)

A few days later while eating lunch together, Joshua asked, "You know last week when we learned about George Washington? Today we learned about Abraham Lincoln."

Dutifully, I asked, "Can you tell me something that Abraham Lincoln did?"

Joshua's reply? "He gave the gold plates to somebody." Assuming he must have Abraham Lincoln confused with some Mormon events I asked again, "He did what?" 

"Abraham Lincoln gave a gold diamond to someone."

I've made a mental note to work with Joshua on his US history studies, and at the same time will work on my own too. Because though I have never claimed to be a US history buff, I have no idea what Joshua thinks and/or learned about Abraham Lincoln.

One more thing for my proverbial to-do list.

Another Great Date Night

Mike and I had the opportunity on Friday to participate in another Power of Moms Couples Workshop. I just can't say enough about what a wonderful experience it is to mingle with so many like-minded parents. There was so much enthusiasm, optimism and energy in our group Friday night.

Between all the attendees, we had 78 children represented!! Those are some lucky 78 children! One couple who is expecting their first came, on up to a couple with their oldest child being 19. It was fabulous to see and hear about the range of experiences.

(the attendees were filling out a paper-they weren't all taking notes at the exact same time!)

No matter how much I present this stuff-I am always amazed at how much I learn from others. This time I came away committed to work better with my two youngest rather than gear most systems to the older ones. And borrowing an idea from another attendee, I may or may not add a wooden spoon to my church bag.

Oh! And good news for Megan--I am going to relax on my "clean room" expectations of her during the week, and not allow a clean room to become more important than our relationship. (Easier said than done-I may be using my "new friend" Kristen as a support group when I'm ready to "lose it.")

Speaking of Kristen--she was our gracious host at her home in Orem. She attended the November workshop at my house and afterwards, kindly opened her home for a Power of Moms event. I wish I could have visited with her more.

One of my very favorite things about Power of Moms is the friendships I have gained with women scattered around the country. Two of my favorite POM ladies were there last night, Lindsay and Koni. Love them.

I wish I had a photo of another one of our Power of Moms trainers, Danielle. Who I obviously didn't make a great impression on the first time we met two years ago, because she said in an email the other day she was "excited to meet me." Oh well. I think we evened out after she and her husband did a fabulous job singing their "family jingle" on Friday night, and I followed it by a poor choice of words that  "insulted" their performance. Everyone laughed. I could feel the heat as my face grew redder and redder by the second.

I also wish I had a photo of me and Mike. He is such a good sport with these events. He even voluntarily sang our family rule song. Not to mention he repeated it again with a private performance afterwards for someone who wanted to write it down. I love hearing his comments, ideas and support. He's a great guy to be navigating through this parenting journey with.

I am thrilled to be a part of The Power of Moms. Truly, a wonderful organization.

If you're in the Provo area--check out the workshop that will be held this next Saturday HERE.
If you're anywhere close to Las Vegas (or want a mini-vacation) in April--check out the Retreat that will be happening there, HERE.

As for how our children did home alone under Megan's charge for 4+ hours Friday night?
Put it this way-cleaning hour lasted longer than an hour on Saturday morning. Not to mention I made Luke stop mid-way through his story when telling me about tying rope to a door to lock a particular sibling in their bedroom because no one wanted them to be around.

Mike and I only go to these workshops to facilitate the discussions.
We are no experts.

Positive Thinking

It is believed that the only way to completely get rid of a negative thought is turning it into a positive one. In fact, at Power of Moms retreats and workshops, we often do an exercise about this very concept. We share with mothers the importance of changing the hundreds of negative thoughts we have each day into positive ones. I'm not always the best at thinking positively. But after doing this exercise with a group of mothers last week, I've been trying to change my own attitude into a more positive one lately.

So...
While reading my scriptures the other day I realized approximately 12 pages had mysteriously disappeared, leaving behind small remnants of the ripped pages instead. Instead of glaring at Drew, I concentrated hard to have the thought, "How wonderful that I'll have 12 less pages to read to finish the book."

On Saturday night after retiring to bed I couldn't help but replay over and over in my mind the number of times my voice had been less than kind. I let myself believe, "How wonderful that my children will probably never be able to forget the sound of my voice."

While I was on the phone the other morning at 9:30am, Joshua and Drew worked their way through a bag of potato chips and a package of mint gum. My positive replacement thought? "I'm so glad the boys have fresh breath for when I am face to face with them explaining that we don't help ourselves to potato chips. Especially at 9:30 in the morning!"

Instead of the too-oft arguing that ensues about piano practicing around here, I let it go the other day and thought, "How nice that there will be one less set of fingerprints smeared across the piano bench today."

After wiping 2 bums about 6 times total within a 20 minute period last week, I positively exclaimed, "How wonderful that Joshua and Drew have such nice clean bums."

Instead of feeling mean and out of patience after we told Megan she would have to pay us each time she came into our room again at bedtime I thought, "How wonderful that we will probably be able to buy a weeks worth of groceries with Megan's penance."

After returning home to find the dinner clean-up hadn't quite been done as instructed, I thought to myself as I slammed loaded dishes into the dishwasher, "What a great thing to know I will never die of boredom."

I admit. Not exactly the 'what and how' of the thought replacement activity/idea, but if it works, so be it.
(Yes, pun intended. We love that phrase around here...)