quote of the week

"Mommy, I'm a hooper hero!"
-Tyler, my little super hero who is still working on his "S"

The Babysitter Curse

So here I am up in Canada. Of course our first day here it was utterly freezing – just to keep all stereotypes alive. We even had to turn the heat on. I was very worried that the one pair of pants I brought for each person was not going to be enough – but then the weather took a turn for the better, and so did my outlook on my packing ability. (By the way, as we were loading the trunk to leave, Greg, my Dad and some neighbours all exclaimed : “That’s it?!” - I felt a tinge of pride for packing so well, but have to admit I was also a little worried!)

We’ve enjoyed several new parks the last few days and had as many picnics. I think we even got a little sunburned today… yes, the sun does shine up in Canada… so I’ll be pulling out the sunscreen tomorrow. We are anxious for Greg to join us on Sunday.

Just a funny note… we only stopped once on our drive up here – at the Michigan welcome center. While there I changed the kids out of their pjs and we had a little picnic brunch. It was pretty cold and I had only brought t-shirts to change into… so I ended up putting the boys’ long-sleeved pj tops back over their clothes. Tyler, with shivers and purple lips came up to me and announced, “Mommy, we forgot to pack our mittens to come to Canada!” It was soooo cute and very true to the weather!

As for my subject… I must do a little long-winded explaining before I can get to the true experience that merits mentioning on this blog. I babysit a lot. I don’t know why or how this has happened to me, but I average a LOT of babysitting hours into my average week. For a big number, I remember adding up 34 hours… however, that’s a BIG number. Usually not so big, but the point being I babysit a lot. Sometimes I enjoy it, sometimes I don’t. Greg, however, gets unnerved by it and I am slowly discovering the joys of being just with my own children, and letting them be just with their own siblings – who are becoming their very own friends. Greg and I always joke about how strange it is how people always ask me to babysit – not the friends doing each other a favour, the swapping off thing – but the utter strangers who will ask. The new neighbor across the street, the frazzled mother at the library… really it is strange. We’ve decided I MUST have some sort of sign on my forehead that advertises either my babysitting ability or my inability to say “no”. Either way, we both agreed that this summer would be a fun break from babysitting. Greg joked that if anyone did ask me to babysit, I should use the whole “let me just check with my parole officer” line – nobody knows me here, and if they’re asking a complete stranger to watch their kids, it serves them right to be served that line.

Are you with me?

It seemed improbable to me that I would be faced with that dilemma… but today we were at the park and I was approached by another mother who, yup, asked me to babysit her 2 ½ year old son. I was smiling uncontrollably as she asked, and she must have thought me both friendly and willing so she kept on talking about what the job would entail. She would only be working part-time, flexible schedule so she could let me know a week in advance what the hours would be, her son could play well with my two boys (note, they had not even gone close to each other the whole hour we’d been there), blah blah blah. I was only half-listening as I tried to control the explosion of laughter within. I almost wondered if Greg had set this up. Still I said nothing, so she started the pity proposal (I’ve heard these before too)… how she just moved to this area of town, doesn’t know a soul, what would happen if she didn’t work at least part-time, she can’t pay a lot, but can pay enough – I mean what’s one more kid for me to watch when I’ve already got three? I have to admit I pledge allegiance to stay-at-home Moms, so that line was a little much. But basically I was humored. I replied, “Honey, I don’t even live in this country…. We’re just up here visiting. Those foreign plates in the parking lot are mine.” She then asked who I was visiting and if I knew anyone else who might be willing – can you believe? Since we were near the library I suggested she look on the bulletin boards there, wished her luck and then walked away to ask Julia if I had anything written on my forehead.

I’m cursed I realize. But while I may not have a break from my curse this summer… at least I can try to have fun with it!

Potty Chart

The Origins & Purpose of the Potty Chart:
Tyler pees fairly regularly in the potty - he prefers to stand, and can stay dry for days and nights. However, when it comes to #2, well let's just say my son loves to HIDE in small places to do the duty. Whenever I don't know where Tyler is, most likely he is under the table, behind the exercise bike or in a closet pooping. Following a friend's advice, I've tried explaining to him the hiding merit of our little downstairs bathroom. I figure if I can at least get him in there to poop (in the dark, under the sink - how great, right?!) - maybe he'd be that much closer to pooping on the potty. Well when he turned three, just over a month ago, we made the potty chart.
The Reward:
When he has filled in the 7 poop balls (he loved that part by the way) he gets to go to McDonalds. Somewhere along the way Greg changed the rules and even if he started to poop elsewhere, we awarded him for finishing his poop in the potty. (Oh, and I think he added jelly beans to the equation also). It's been a long haul, but Tyler finally filled his chart and so the other day we went to get his happy meal. (I saw a cartoon once that showed a mother explaining to her kids, "It's called a happy meal because I don't have to make it!" end side note.) Tyler fell asleep in drive-thru - and even the tempting smell and salty taste didn't rouse him!

At home he awoke. He was happy to have his McDonalds, but is now asking for a new chart! So now you see how one of my charts works ... but what explanation is there for my children's obssession over "more charts"?! Maybe the reward for filling out the next one will be another chart!

Pack? - Rats!

So I’m packing up my family once again. This time it is somewhere in between “moving” packing and “trip” packing. This will be the longest “trip” we’ve ever been on while paying rent for an unoccupied house still full of our STUFF. Also, we will be living in our own little place and so we need more things than the usual trip. Did I mention this is a LONG trip. Friends and family, we are leaving the comforts of our home for a good two months or longer. I am sad. This place I titled “Gloomington” has grown on me and I am sad to be leaving my friends (those who aren’t moving too!), my comfort zone, my home and my backyard! Mostly I hate packing... and if I can just get out of this slump and ignore my growing to-do-list, I will leave, have our summer and be back before I know it.

But how much do I pack? I’ve got it down to 7 t-shirts for the boys... but what if it’s cold... how many sweaters do I need? We need dress shoes for church, running shoes, sandals... do we need rain boots and rain jackets? We will be camping a lot... so on top of the tent, sleeping bags, cooler, coleman stove I need warmer PJs in case it’s chilly (we are going to Canada!)... How many toys do I let them bring? I’m supposed to be getting Julia ready for kindergarten this summer... do I bring learning activities, her favourite books? As for myself, how many outfits do I bring for Sundays? Realistically I think one... but I know I’ll get sick of it and how many people will be wondering if I really just have that one skirt? Do I bring a framed family picture to add some decor to our dorm room? Oh, and should I dust my home before I go? Will it make that much difference for when I return? Should I put all my photo albums on the top floor so that if a disaster strikes and floods hit, my scrapbooking efforts and memories are saved?

I could never have been a pioneer... never a military wife... and obviously I’m struggling with my present role of “packer”. Do you have any suggestions?

Quote of the Week

Explained Julia to her brother Tyler:
"Everything isn't fair, Tyler. Either it's on purpose, by accident, or not fair."

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Some of you may already know this, and for those of you who don’t, please don’t hate me or by any means think I am perfect. Mostly I had seriously pushy parents who formed this habit in me when I was too young to know any better, and then mostly I really NEED this habit... the point being, I have kept a journal since I was three.

Since yesterday was mother’s day and while always one of those reflective days (whether for better or for worse) my writer’s mind couldn’t think of anything either humorous enough or tear-inspiring enough to write. And so, I’ve compiled a list from my journals, of what I’ve always wanted to be when I grow up.

age 4 “a peacemaker”
age 5 : nurse, dentist
age 6 : secretary, artist, swimming teacher, nurse, teacher, writer
age 7 ½ : “I’m learning not to cry. I want to learn Dutch. I like writing journals a lot.”
age 8 ½: artist, mom, nurse, wife, teacher, writer, policeman
age 9: a writer “I can’t wait t’ille I am old enought to go to the BYU university. Me & Janeth Townsende.”
age 10: “to do college work and work in a post office, maybe a library too if I have time”
age 10 ½ : secretary, Mom, nurse, wife, teacher, writer, swimming teacher
age 11: secretary, mother, wife, teacher, writer
age 11 ½ : “a detective like Nancy Drew”
age 12: farmer, author, singer, piano teacher, mother, wife. (had to note the period!)
“The last couple of days I have been thinking alot about how I want my life to be when I grow up. I thought I’d write it down so that when I am grown up I can compare my life to the one I write in here.” Followed by hour by hour schedules, “projects of the night” and budgets I created for grade seven, grade eight, high school and even university! (Note, I still have a chart with “projects of the night”)
age 13: hotel manager
age 14: lawyer
age 15: playwright, director “I keep having this feeling that I should move out somewhere by myself and start making movies or plays or something”.
age 17: English Major – High school teacher, high school counselor, lawyer
age 18: going to school for BA in English & BEd (to teach high school), also interested in law school and non-for-profit management

While I am completely underpaid, could definately use some vacation time and would at times love to change the location of my office... I have to admit that the benefits of my vocation are priceless. I love what I do!
Here’s a picture of me all grown-up!

Kids!

Here are Julia & Tyler as Incredibles from last Halloween.
And, here's Ethan throwing a tantrum at his McDonalds Birthday a few days ago!

Blubublus!

If you know my kids, you know that somehow when the talking genes were passed out, Julia got more than her fair share and really didn't leave much for the boys. Tyler has had his little issues with hearing and now after a year of speech therapy is doing MUCH better. I thought everything he said was understandable, but after a week of hearing my Mom constantly ask him to repeat himself and then ask me for an interpretation, I've decided he might not be as understandable as I thought; I've merely learned his language.

Ethan had his 2 year old checkup this morning and the Dr. insisted he get a speech evaluation. Greg told me she insisted we do it before we leave for the summer (in just 9 days) and I waved it off as something to do when we get back. It wasn't long before the doctor's office called to inform me that they were setting up the appointment just to make sure we did it! The nerve! Greg is concerned however, so this will be a topic of "discussion"! Ethan started saying words about a month or so ago. Before that he was basically silent, and we've relied on a lot of signing.

Here's a brief dialog that occured after nap time:

Ethan: blubublus
Mommy: Did you have a good nap, sweetie?"
E: blubublus
M: What would you like?
E: blubublus
M: Are you thirsty? Do you want to go downstairs and get a drink and snack?
E: (enthusiastic hand pulling towards stairs)
I proceed to get him a snack... Ethan throws a tantrum, which I ignore...
M: What would you like to drink with your snack?
E: blubublus, blubublus!
M: Water bottle? (I give him a water bottle which he throws down on the floor)
E: blubublus
M: Okay then. Juice or milk?
E: blubublus
M: Honey, can you show me what you want?
He now takes my hand and leads me to the couch where he sits down very contentedly, folds his hands in his lap and looks up at me as if I MUST now understand and repeats those famous words...
E: blubublus mama, blubublus
M: GREG! CAN YOU COME HELP ME UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS SON OF YOURS WANTS?
Greg comes down. After attempting translation for several times...
G: Ethan, can you show Daddy some more of what it is you want?
Ethan goes over to the VCR and DVD players and starts pressing all the buttons. Apparently he must want a movie. Greg opens up the movie drawer and Ethan starts pulling out movies and naming them.
E: Doda! (Dora) Memo! (Elmo) Blubublus! (INCREDIBLES)! Mama! (pointing at Elastigirl) Dat Dat! (Jack Jack) BOB!

Then came the let down of, even though we now know what you want... you can't have it! Come on now, it's a two hour movie! (The reason he is so familiar with the characters is because the kids were the Incredibles for Halloween).

So what do you think... does my second son need speech therapy too?

Fox in Socks

I had my second, and hopefully last, grotesque foot surgery last Friday. Though I am in pain up to ying yang and have a nasty cold, I have to admit that I have been thoroughly enjoying the lounging privileges that have accompanied my recovery period. I do have to note that I would not be reveling so were it not for the love of my mother who has come to help replace me, take care of me, and even clean my house for me! How great are Moms? (Speaking of which – what coloured day do you all expect mother’s day to be? What sneaky ways do you have of controlling that?) Anyways, Mom. Yes Mom. I think she’s very nearly exhausted by 9am each morning (just from getting the kids ready for the day) and has noted that she’s glad she did this childrearing thing when she was 20 years younger. Mom is also convinced she’s lost weight from chasing my kids here and there as well as eating healthy foods at only specified times (yes we have an eating schedule here too!) It’s been fun to watch Greg realize how much I do too! While he’s given me the well-deserved title “commander from the couch” I think he appreciates me a little more. But all good things must come to an end. Tomorrow I bid farewell to my children’s Grandma... and I will be forced to leave my commanding post and re-enter the world of motherhood. I’m rested, that’s for sure, and feel a little more balanced... look I even had time to start a blog!

I do have to post a journal entry I came upon that was apparently written in a moment of haste and used for therapy... but it’s funny to me now!

Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I feel like I am ready to explode but I can’t get all the pieces to collaborate and do it at the same time. I have absolutely no control, not even over myself exploding. My house is a wreck, our home is falling apart at the seams and I can’t get anything done off of my to-do list. I’m tired. I don’t know what my husband wants me to do when he begs me for help and then turns all suggestions aside. I can’t read all the books my children want read because I am so tired and still have to clean up just the messes from the day before awaiting any “accidents” that may occur during the nightly awakenings that collide with the morning eruptions somewhere around 6am. UGGHHHHHH! Did I mention I have a Primary Leadership meeting tomorrow night, a Primary Activity on Saturday and then of course my in-laws are coming for the weekend. Oh, and Greg has his finals next week, a HUGE project due tomorrow at 11am and is currently at the church presenting an Arrow of Light ceremony that I barely completed in time for him. I am surviving on junk food and I know I need to get a handle of life and find some balance, clean my house and try to be a better Mom and wife. I am struggling and just want everyone and everything to disappear for a moment. I am lucky, I know. I could have a heart disease, a new baby, a thyroid problem, be pregnant with my fourth child – all of which are destroying people and friends around me who need help that I feel I can no longer give. I’m tired. I need a shower and some major Ally-McBeal re-runs to get my sense of humor back.

I do have to note that I checked the library for the Ally McBeal re-runs... nada. But upon exploring the IU library – Greg and I were shocked to see that they do have them at the Law Library!!!! This will only be funny to those of you who have seen Ally McBeal. But it’s funny to me and funny is good – yeah for having my sense of humor back! And yeah for having my wish granted in a sick sort of way and being able to disappear! Wish me luck back in the real world with my heavy-duty cushioned sock!

The Test

(Julia and I, undeniably pregnant with Tyler)

"But it all turns out all right, you see. And I go back to being... me."

So I took my first home pregnancy test. No we’re not expecting, not even close to trying... but my period is Late with a capital “L” and I wanted to make sure it was okay to go get my hair coloured! Why is this event worth mentioning? Because I am engrossed in the fact that I have three children and still have yet to see double lines on a stick that has been treated to a ten second explosion of my urine.

Regardless of my first time’s results, or perhaps because of them, it was still a fun little experiment – kind of like when I was a little girl realizing just how much water my Mom’s tampons could hold! But I do want to give you a little synopsis of why I am only just getting the chance to take this test!

When I went to the Drs to find out I was pregnant with Julia it was actually to get some medicinal relief from a very bad urinary tract infection. No that’s not a nickname for her. I was young... 19, but also apparently already had a bad case of the “Mommy hormones”- I still cannot believe how dumb blonde I was during this time of wonderment and finding out. When the nurse came she asked me if I wanted to be pregnant. I thought that was a weird question, and a little personal, but I answered “sure” and didn’t catch her exiting reply, “well, you are”. Greg did though... and was shocked to see me not responding in any shape or form. After a brief discussion he called the nurse back in to verify the news... she did, and I missed taking the test for my first time.

The second time there was no way I needed a test. We were trying. We were calculating. And when I missed my period and began puking in the same day, we knew. (Note, said puking did not end till day of delivery, a few hours after Tyler was born).

With Ethan I knew again. I actually never took a pregnancy test. (With Tyler they did an office one at my first visit). But with Ethan I remember laying there for my first sonogram and having the small, invasive thought “what if I’ve just been making all this up and I’m really not pregnant”. When the technician entered and I told her the news, that this was really my first pregnancy test (you know, just to make me not look too dumb if there was nothing there) – she just laughed, and thankfully Ethan made his presence on the screen and ultimately I passed the test.

So I’m not pregnant. Not trying... just passing along a hallmark moment.

Choo Choo:Ethan Thomas Turned 2

Two posts in one day is kind of serious business... but I did have to mention the event that took place yesterday - or else it would be forever missed on this blog!
Ethan turned 2! (pictures are at 1 week old, 1 year old and then 2 - gotta love that little mischievous smile!)

Some fun things you might want to know about me now that I’m 2:
· I LOVE trains (especially Thomas), Dora, Bob the builder and ROCKET!
· I Love Cats… and my favorite food is BANANAS!
· My favourite colour is BLUE!
· I Like to Colour, glue, and play with Legos, Trains and Little People!
· I am Fearless and Am King of the Playground!
· I am stubborn, independent and very confident… some of my favourite phrases are: “I Did it”, “That’s a No-no!” and “I Want—Too!” - that last one must be due to being the third child!

ETHAN

Hop on Pop

"Green Days. Deep deep in the sea. Cool and quiet fish. That's me."

So I asked my kids the other day what their favourite things to do with Mommy and Daddy are... here's the list I got:

• have tea parties
• read books
• play games
• play with Mommy
• play horsie with Daddy

Greg was shocked to see that the abuse that he is subjected to the moment he walks in the door is given a name and a mention on that list! I really do need to capture a picture of this back-wrenching balancing act! I have a picture of my siblings and I engaging my Dad in the act - during which photo shoot produced a pulled back! Our kids are much more into it though - they've got whips (for when he's a bad horsie and needs to go faster) - and they literally dig their heels into his sides to make him "giddy-up" - it's quite awful to watch. Typically I don't - playing horsie with Daddy means alone time for Mommy! Greg often asks "do they do this to you?" Thankfully no. However, I am rarely, if ever, gone for hours on end... and I have learned to never, no never, lay down on the floor when children abound.

I then asked the kids what they wish we did more of... I was surprised by the two answers I got: "read scriptures more" and "more charts on the wall"!

You have to understand that my husband and I have made a half-dedicated effort to read scripture stories with our children every day... sometimes we do, sometimes we don't... however, many a times it is like pulling teeth to get them to quiet down and sit still for the length of just one little scriptures story. I suppose our efforts haven't been quiet so futile, but my mind begins to decompress a bit just thinking about trying to read any more!

For the second point, you need to merely walk into my home to see how completely (and embarrassingly) anal I am about schedules, time management and charts of any shape and size. I have them; I own them; I make them... charts are my friend. My husband is sick of them, yet tolerates them because... miracle of miracles - they actually WORK! Our family functions on charts - and apparently my kids want more of a good thing. I am beaming. I, the queen of charts, have reproduced chart-lovers!