Kids

I took a few random pictures from our day. 
Kids crack me up. 
Plain and simple--they're just cool.

(See . . . catch me on a good day and I don't even threaten to make them lick up the pee around the toilet.)

  

Post of reality...

Some days, being a MOM is just plain hard.

Some days, I don't want to cut out the sections in a grapefruit for a pleading child.
Some days, I don't want to get involved in the squabbles of my kids.
Some days, I don't want to play Candyland.
Some days, I want to rub their sweet, little faces in peanut butter until they like it.
Some days, I wish my kids could watch movies ALL DAY LONG.
Some days, I only want to give my kids hot dogs and potato chips for lunch...no fruit, I know.
Some days, I want the last brownie, or cookie, or piece of gum, or, or . . .
Some days, I don't care if they wear the same socks 4 days in a row.
Some days, I wish I could watch movies ALL DAY LONG.
Some days, I want to send my kids to bed without kisses or songs.
If I'm happy with min-wheats for dinner, why aren't you?
Some days, I wish I could impose an ALL DAY reading day.
Some days, I don't want to have to explain the WHY'S of everything.
Some days, I wonder what the house would look like if we never cleaned up.
Some days, I don't want the responsibility that "if momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."
Some days, a deserted island sounds like HEAVEN.
Some days, I want to make my kids lick up the pee around the toilet so they NEVER MISS AGAIN!
Most days, I love being a mom. 
Some days, well . . .

All I can say is, I'm glad that days are 24 hours and we can start again.  Oh, and laughter truly is the best medicine.

Here we go again. . .

Parents are fallible.
I knew this was true.
I've learned two tremendous lessons these past two weeks.

1.  Brigham taught me something, and I'm glad he's my first--so I don't screw up the others.  As a kid gets older, his needs change.  I knew that.  I used to put the boys all in one mold.  The boys.  They did this, they did that, always together.  Well, Brigham doesn't want to be treated that way anymore.  He's growing up, testing his wings, whereas the other boys are still content where they are.  Brigham wants his own space.  He doesn't want his things messed up.  He's meticulous about "his" stuff.  Not OCD, just more careful, responsible than the others.  He wanted us to treat him as an individual and to share grown-up ideas with him about the world and spirituality.  Before I realized these things, Brigham started closing off.  He wouldn't share as much with me.  He always seemed down, frustrated, impatient. 

I prayed and prayed about this little guy.  I finally got my answer.  We started treating him like a responsible, semi-grown-up kid.  We changed rooms.  William and Lincoln are together.  Brigham's on his own.  We gave him a later bedtime.  I started giving him more responsibilities with Annie.  I guess we just gave him more responsibility for himself.  That's exactly what he needed.  Brigham has blossomed.  You always love your kids, but I really "like" Brigham, too.  If I could be as sure about the others like I am about Brigham, I sure wouldn't worry as much.  Let's just say that Brigham was born with an obedient little spirit, whereas, the others, well . . .

2.  This lesson isn't quite as dramatic, but for my sanity it was a MIRACLE.  A tender mercy.  As most of you know, Lincoln is constantly giving me a run for my money.  I also know that his heart is truly as big as his antics, that's the redemptive part of it all.  Just as I was learning to give Brigham more freedom, I thought about changing Lincoln's bedtime.  Earlier.  Remember, I'd always done everything the same with the boys.  We started putting Lincoln to bed between 6:30-7pm.  I know, that sounds really early, but we did it anyway.  It is amazing.  He goes willingly.  There's not a fight.  He STAYS in his bed, reads his books, turns over and BAM, asleep.  Holy cow.  I couldn't believe it.  I thought he'd fight us like crazy putting him to bed before the others.  I was wrong.  So much of our trouble with Lincoln probably stemmed from his DAILY exhaustion.  Poor little fella.  He was begging us for bedtime by acting out. 

I'm so grateful that we don't have to raise our kids alone.  God knows them better than we do, I've no doubt about that.  He'll show us what His children need.  Why wouldn't He?  Nothing is more important.  Sometimes I forget and struggle and struggle, without knowing what to do.  Then, when I'm desperate enough, I get on my knees.  Stupid me.  One day I'll figure it out and save my children from thinking their mother is CRAZY:).

I'm probably too late . . .

Mambo #5...

Happy Birthday, Lincoln!
5...phew.  We made it to 5. 
We are so grateful that Lincoln is still with us. 
No, he doesn't have a life threatening illness. 
It's just that everything he does is performed with such herculian effort:), we're amazed his body is still in one piece.


A few nights ago, I was watching the snowboarders doing the halfpipe and thought to myself,
 hmmm...I could so see Lincoln doing that. 
Anything extreme, he's there. 
No fear.
Bold, brave, courageous Lincoln.
I expect great things from this little man.
And what's endearing is that his heart is as big as his imagination.
Two very powerful gifts.

Our theme for his day was green.  Green pancakes, green candy necklaces for his preschool class, green birthday cake (which batter I stealthy licked while the kids were away), green candles, green gum, etc.

(In case anyone's wondering, this cake was much more successful than my last attempt (2-3-2010).  All parts intact.  However, I'm not a cake person, no creative cake spark, I do enough to make them excited and I play it up like it's the coolest cake ever made.  Thankfully, they believe it.  I guess I'll never let them go to another birthday party again...can't let them see the competition:).)

I'm pretty sure his roller blades and handcuffs were the ultimate favorites when it came to gifts.  The bubble gum was a close second.

More to come from this little guy, I'm sure.
Stay tuned (since half my blog is filled with his antics).

Reminders...

(This is the temple closest to us from the field across the street...the city is down below.)

I went to the temple today.  For those reading who aren't a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this link is what a temple is all about...so you see where I'm coming from  ( http://www.lds.org/temples/).  I must've needed it because I was really affected by my experience.

I get so disappointed, frustrated, even angry with the world sometimes: infidelity amongst our elected leaders, supposed role models, dishonesty in business and family life, selfishness, abuse, zero morals, zero accountability, the list goes on . . . .  This isn't meant as a whining session--it is what it is, unfortunately.

With all these issues swirling around, it's easy to feel hopeless.  That's why I loved the temple today.  It's a complete 180 degree experience from all that garbage.  It was hopeful, filling, joyful, peaceful, beautiful, enlightening, uplifting.  Those are the feelings I want.  Those are the feelings we need.  Focusing my mind on where I came from, why I'm here, where I'm going, what's the point of life, why do I want to live a good life, a righteous life...these are the foundations for happiness, these are the basics.  That's what I want to spend my time thinking about.  I left the temple feeling rejuvenated, grateful for my blessings, ready to tackle the yucky stuff of life and find the good. 

The good I found today was in the sunshine.  Thank heavens for sunshine.  My soul was sun-starved and now it's full...for the time being.  Living in Idaho in the winter is not for the faint of heart:).   

Lovin' this...

I skipped my Valentine's post. 
I was too excited about posting that figure skating picture (below) Brigham took of Ben and I (we're nerds, I admit it).

Special days are fun when you're on a limited budget.  They force you to be creative.  No easy way out.  We had a lot of fun, and I guess what was the most fun of all was that Ben and I really enjoyed each other this weekend.  Don't get me wrong.  We enjoy each other on a regular basis...he IS my husband.  Our focus was more on "feelin' the love" than on laundry or jobs or responsibilites.  We just had fun.

Friday we listened to speakers teach about Gary Chapman's five love languages.  It's a fabulous book, not just for couples, but for all relationships--especially your own children.  We loved it.  Maybe I loved it more, but Ben was extremely supportive.  He's not as self-helpy as I.  Life's just easy for him--you live life, help others, keep your nose clean, be honest, and the rest falls into place.  He's not crazy emotional like I am.  And that's a good thing.

We played Scrabble by candlelight and the true test of our love was that we didn't keep score.  Our competitive natures usually don't allow for such free-spirited play.  We laughed, made simple words, and the game wasn't nearly as long.  It's nice to be friends while playing scrabble since we're usually fierce competitors with the Scrabble Dictionary passing between us.  Maybe that's a little extreme, but we really take our scrabble playing seriously:).

Sunday morning Ben made us all pink heart-shaped pancakes as well as valentines next to our plates.  That was sweet and unexpected.  Breakfast is SO good when you don't have to make it.  Yummy.  I ate those up with peanut butter and maple syrup--just like when I was a kid. 

We forgot our troubles, worries, etc. and smiled our way through the weekend.  It was much needed and refreshed us all.

p.s. My friend posted the funniest thing about their V-day. They were walking their dog that night.  Passing someone's house, they saw in the window someone cooking dinner in an apron and their underwear and THAT'S IT!  People need to shut their blinds, keep the love to themselves.  So funny.

Our Olympian...

I'm thinking Lincoln has that gene, the dare-devilish gene that all the olympic competitors carry.

I could be wrong.
But . . .
I could be right.

Maybe it's just a bad case of olympic fever (we all have a little of that at our house).
Who knows.

FYI...

Have I told you...

We love olympic figure skating.

(Ben is such a good sport.  I hope you're smiling.)

Eee-yah!

Will officially graduated from his first tae kwan do experience. 
He was too young for basketball.
We thought a little intro to self-discipline wouldn't hurt.
Eventhough it ended on Thursday, I still don't know how he felt about it.
It's not a "fun" sort of activity.
It's hard.
You don't have games. 
You have to stand still.
You have to do push-ups on your knuckles.
You have to say "Yes, Sir," and "No, Sir."
You have to memorize 14 rules, like, "Children shall greet their parents when they enter the house, and say goodbye when they leave," and "Children shall refrain from rowdy behavior at home."
See, it's not mess-around-with-your-friends kind of fun.
It's disciplined fun??

Will's favorite part was the "breaking the board" class.  The LAST day of class.
Success. 
He totally busted that bad boy. 
It was fun to watch, but what was more fun was looking at Will's face after he did it.  I love moments like that. 

New do...

I needed a haircut.
Bad.
I was starting to feel slightly teeny-bopperish with my ultra-long locks.
I needed a change, too. 
I wanted to stay semi-long, I didn't want to color it, but I needed change.
Here's what I did. 
It's not much different, but I can't remember the last time I had bangs. 
I think it was when I was 14-15, and I tried to cut bangs myself. 
Mistake. 
Way too short bangs = bad cut experience.
I was going for a Jennifer Garner sort of look, but I have to train these bangs a little more.

p.s. I LOVE getting my hair washed by someone else.  It feels soooo good.
p.p.s. I made Ben take my picture about 50 billion times.  I always want to make funny faces because I feel so ridiculous smiling for my own blog.

The great cake adventure...

We had our Cub Scout Blue and Gold banquet last night. 
In addition to the regular meeting, we had a Father and Son's Cake contest.
What an adventure.
Many nights were spent listening to Ben and Brigham hash over ideas:
haystacks, yoda heads, cars, etc.
They settled on a monster truck.
The night before they made the cake, Ben whipped out his ruler, taking measurements of Brig's remote control monster truck--"so everything can be to scale," he said.
I rolled my eyes.
It's like the pinewood derby--cake style.

They made the cake on Tuesday.
Froze it.
Woke up at 6am on Wednesday, shaped it, frosted it.
Voila.

They were so proud of themselves.  I love when I can see in my kids' eyes that they are pleased with something they've done.  Especially Brigham, because he dwells on the areas where he falls short (or so he thinks).  He couldn't wait to show off his cake.

The Blue and Gold was fun.  Funny.

However, we had an accident.

The cake was on the stage while we cleaned up.

Annie accidently pushed the remaining part of the cake OVER THE EDGE!

Brigham was devastated.

He wanted to cry, but didn't because other people were around.

He waited until we got home, climbed on my lap, and cried silent tears on my coat.

His poor little heart.  My poor Mommy heart.

Brigham gets some pretty tough breaks sometimes as the oldest.

For now, we'll have to glory in our pictures.

Next year, we'll keep our eye on Annie.

Jungle-gymommy...

I tip-toed into the guest room, hoping to run on the treadmill before Annie knew I was there.  As if running isn't exhausting enough, I don't like to worry if her fingers are going to get caught in the belt, or if she's going to try to jump on behind me, and the list of worries goes on . . . 

Have you ever tried keeping track of your three year-old, turning your head while running 6 mph and losing your balance because your head is turned at a crazy angle and you can't run straight?  Let me tell you--not a pleasant experience.  Hence, my trying to out-smart the little gal.  Stealth running.

She caught me.  Thankfully, I was done running.  But I was still working on these saddlebags of a rear-end and my abs.  My body turned into an Annie jungle gym.  It was hopeless.  I decided to have fun instead of getting upset.  The saddlebags remain . . . until tommorow. 

Annie made me laugh when she was standing on the treadmill (see pic above).  She said,

"Look, Mommy, I'm a gingerbread man." 

Cute.  I smiled.  That's my girl.

Threaded and dangerous...

What did you do this weekend?

I was busy, but not with the Superbowl.
I was busy being thrifty.

Over the past year, I've built up quite a stock of jeans with holes.
As a mother of 3 boys, it's a given.  Got Jeans, got holes. 
If a pair got a hole, it was relegated to the guest room until further notice.
They added up too fast.  I couldn't ignore them anymore.
I laid them out, all 14 pair, and got to work.  Brigham even helped.

BUT, that's not all.

I sewed the gaping holes on each side of Brigham's coat.
I altered the cutest dress I found at a thrift store.

It was quite a busy Saturday night.  I felt so domestic.
It was actually fun.  I never considered myself a "project" person--going to the store and buying it was great for me.  Funny the things we learn to enjoy out of necessity.

Spoke too soon...

Do you remember what I was saying about scummy-life sort of days (post below)?
Well, today was one of those days.
I'm not seeing the beauty...yet.

On a more positive note, I did get all the closets cleaned out today.  That was a good thing.

Here's to better days...tommorow.  Cheers.

Beauty?

Annie taught me a great lesson today.  If you're a church-going sort of person, it was one of those, I could use this in a talk moments (maybe I'm the only one who thinks like that).

We were walking out of the grocery store.  It was warmer today so the roads were slushy and wet, dirty puddles everywhere.  Walking to our car, Annie stops.  On the ground was this beautiful, circular, little rainbow from a drop of oil in the road.  We stopped and enjoyed it for a several moments.  I'll be honest, I was waiting for Annie to reach out and touch it, taste it, etc.  A few steps further, another pretty rainbow, another pause to admire.  She kept saying how "bootiful" it was.  She was right and she got me thinking.

Thought #1: most people wouldn't consider oil in the road beautiful.  Frankly, most people wouldn't even look down to notice, or if they did, they wouldn't stop.  Too busy.  Beauty hits us in the most obscure ways, if we're looking.  We'll always see it, if we're looking.

Thought #2:  sometimes my life feels like a drop of dirty oil in the middle of a scummy parking lot.  Do you ever feel that way?  It's usually short-lived, but real nonetheless.  Yet, with a little water the rainbow appears.  The water is grace.  God's grace turns my sometimes-scummy life into a thing of beauty.  The beauty comes in the struggle, the overcoming, the lessons, and the resulting strength.  Here's the catcher: I have to make a choice.  Look to this source of grace or keep on walking.  I have to admit, sometimes I wallow in my scumminess.  Sometimes I want to stay mad or upset.  Ridiculous, I know. Where's the beauty in that? 

Life's a process.  I'm obviously still working on it.

p.s. the picture is not "our" drop of oil.  Courtesy of the internet.  But it looked just like it.

Number of the day: 3

Happy Birthday, Annie.

What a day.

The heart pancakes Mommy made probably confused you about what a heart really looks like.

We tried to play your very first computer game (just like your brothers), but Mommy couldn't get any googled "online learning games for toddlers" to load.  Thank goodness for daddies and pbskids.org. 

Mommy lost her temper after you made a complete mess with the play-doh.  She was upset with your daddy for volunteering at the Cannery today, and took out her frustration on you.  Shame on Mommy, twofold.  Don't worry, Mommy and Daddy are friends again.

We did have a lot of fun at Lincoln's gymnastics.  Thanks for saying, "Mommy, I llliiiikkke you."  That was so sweet.  I like you, too.

The cake.  What didn't go wrong.  I'll leave it at that...wait, it was pink inside.

Dinner at McDonald's was full of adventure.  When you and your brothers commented about the sticky floor, in bare feet, I almost gagged.  McDonald's is not Mommy's favorite, but it's yours and that's what matters.

Cake, ice cream, and presents at Grandma's was exciting.  Brigham nearly burned off  his finger lighting the candles. Watching you open your gifts was delightful.  You're so innocent.  I love that.

Nearly everything went wrong today and you never noticed.

You loved the less-than-perfect heart pancakes.
You loved the mutilated cake held together by frosting.
You loved everything because stuff doesn't matter.
We were together all day. 
That's what mattered.

You are our little blessing.

Annie, the greatest thing about today was YOU.
Happy Birthday.

Gratitude...

I've been meaning to do this for weeks:
My gratitude post.
I know that gratitude isn't a one-day or one-post sort of character trait, it's more of a way of life.
Daily.

However, I have felt a tremendous amount of gratitude since Christmas for two things in particular.  I would be a total ingrate to let these things slip by.

I woke up Christmas day with anticipation (as usual).  Ben made me wait with the kids at the top of the steps.  I walked down and looked towards the loveseat.  There, in all its amazing, stylish glory was IT.  You know, the coat.  The "it-spoke-to-me-coat" from Macy's.  Do you remember the posts (11-18-2009 and 11-21-2009)?  I looked to Ben quizzically.  He shrugged his shoulders, told me to read the note laying on top of the coat.  I did...in shock.  Some kind, generous, thoughtful, selfless individuals whom I assume are readers of my little blog gave me the coat!  Humbled was an understatement.  I was quietly contemplative at the generosity of friends.  I was borderline teary--not that the coat made me cry (well, maybe a little bit...it's THAT cute), it was the fact that friends cared for me enough to do something completely unexpected, unecessary and chose to remain nameless.  I thought of that scripture in the New Testament (Matthew 6:1,2,3-4): Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them....  Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee...but when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.

I know, whoever you are, that God blessed you for your kindness (at least I prayed that He would, and he usually answers those kinds of prayers).  Thank you.  Really.  I wear that coat humbly, and feel so gosh-darn cute.  Not that I'm cute, it's the coat's "magic."  You (all) have forever left an impression on me that I hope to emulate.  FYI: I have received many compliments about that coat...all because of you.

The second Christmas gift, completely unexpected, but gratefully enjoyed and used daily is this cute, cute, apron.  My sweet cousin, Shelley, made it for me (with a little help from Diana).  Cooking in style makes meal prep slightly dreamy.  It's fun, domestic, and dare I admit, a little sexy (to Ben, of course).  I feel like my Grandma, who always wore an apron, but this is a 21st century apron--so cool.  Thanks, you guys.  You really make my day--every day (It's usually on for breakfast and dinner).

Needless to say, gratitude for "things" are not the only reasons for gratitude, but I will cherish these things as long as my little brain is functioning clearly.  Thank you all so much.  XOXO.

p.s. I'm not really sure why I have to stick out my arms in every picture...I guess it's to add a little more pizazz, or to make myself look like a total nerd.  Either way's fine.