Halloween Rules

Mr. Man forces everyone to stick their hand in when we do this fun family activity, as you may recall. Baby J got off his first year (when he was only 2 months old)... but not this year.

I definitely see therapy in his future.

Follow-Ups

A friend paid me a compliment the other day that has kept me thinking and wondering, and judging myself, my writing and especially my blog. She compared my blog to a book she is reading which consists of multiple unrelated, though interesting and thought-provoking, essays. And so I ask myself, can anyone follow my posts? Are my thoughts so random and unrelated? Can you keep up with my life? Are you left with questions and wondering what happened next? I admit some of you drive me mad when you mention the dilemma of what to fix for refreshment for bookclub and then never reveal what you ended up making. I will often check to find out how a child is faring who has been ill, or wait patiently for a friend who has announced she is pregnant to truly dish how she is feeling... and looking. So you see I am a two-faced blogger.

So for the sake of not driving myself, or anyone else mad… I propose a question and answer blog. I will run a few follow-ups and then allow you to ask any question you want (though I may or may not answer… as I’m the queen here!)

*My back is still horrendous, though improving day by day and the pain is duller thanks to my son’s prednisone that found its way into my body. I still can’t lift my baby or bend over, though I did manage to sweep my floor tonight (it’s been left amuck since Saturday). Thanks to some wonderful friends and an incredible husband, I survived 2 days straight on the couch (oh the memories). And thankfully the Lord has answered my prayer for my baby to be extra tired and he is taking two naps again! I can’t believe how much a back can affect your life. Incredible. I will be so grateful when this is over… and it will be, right?!

*Baby’s head has healed up nicely, though it is a lovely shade of pink now and seems to get more comments now than it did when it was a nasty owie. I think he just needs another summer coat to even it out. We’ll see. (Ooops, there I go again, leaving you with more things to wonder about.)

(And yes, he's eating food off the floor at a church halloween party. Gross.)

*Positive reinforcement has worked wonders and the food that ends up on the floor from baby is usually accompanied with a worried look, as it tends to be accidental. He is also doing more signs now, so that is nice for communication. He loves to “clean up” and sing the song and do the sign. He sounds more like “eeengg guck” though, and it makes me laugh! On another note, that I may not have mentioned about baby, he sings himself to sleep. Usually you can make out the tune “I am a child of God.” I love it.

*Mr. T missed his fever last month and is looking good for this month too (knock on wood). We’ve been struggling a bit with some of Little E’s behavior, and have been discussing and praying about whether homeschooling Mr. T has affected him. While the solution to that problem isn’t quite apparent, I have felt very strongly that keeping Mr. T home has kept him healthy, and for that we are extremely grateful. Plus we’re having fun learning together.

*As for homeschooling, many of you have questioned what curriculum or method I am using. Really it is just a smorgasbord of such. I consulted with friends, read a few books and then bought some that I felt would be interesting and fun for us. Some I love, others are okay, but really, it’s just kindergarten and I’m not too worried. I have goals for what I expect him to have learned and what level I want him at for next year, but we’re not too rigid. My weekly “plans” that I created have run out and this week it was by the seat of my pants and we still did okay. It’s definitely a lot more work and I have to be willing to let other things slide (which is hard for me), but it’s enjoyable too. He’s a fun, sweet kid and that makes it exciting, and I hope one day he remembers that his Mom taught him to read.

*Miss J has continued to make lists and plans galore. She is currently organizing a talent show, manhandling a few organized playdates, and creating Christmas creations for cousins. Not to mention spending hours each week at gymnastics - with which she has a love hate relationship....I know, that's a whole other post though. We're all excited for the next two half-school-days!

*I swear I never used to have these sorts of problems. Last thing to go through my wash: a tube of lipstick. Totally my fault. And totally didn't come out with any of the suggestions I found in my homemaking stain books or online. Frown.

Any questions?

Back to Basics

As a child, I thought there were some funny things about my parents. But you know, every child thinks that, right? For one thing, my mother had to wear these crazy thick pantyhose day in and day out. I remember helping her peel them off before bed and then handing them back to her when she awoke and before she could stand up. I think this must have been for her daily afternoon nap, which she still takes by the way, since I remember 6:30 pm being my bedtime until I was at least 17 (okay, not quite, but pretty close). Also my parents’ bed was tilted with these ginormous wooden block contraptions holding the foot of the bed several inches off the floor. My mom had the leg problem I had a slight version of during my pregnancy. I remember being utterly embarrassed when she was pregnant and we were forced to sit on the front row at church with her leg and foot up in the air. Now I know how it feels to be that leg and foot. While mine has continued, it has been to a much lesser degree, and hers obviously wasn’t. The funny thing was, often when I would enter my parents’ room (and usually bed – why do all kids do this?) early each morning, I would find my Mom sleeping with her feet up in the air and next to her my Dad’s feet. He, being an allergy sufferer, couldn’t handle the incline and so, inevitably, they lovingly slept with each other’s feet. As a child this was a bit silly, now it makes me guffaw. Other mornings we would enter only to find my Dad with his head and neck hanging down the bed end, face bright red, focused and intent on the “exercises” he was doing for his back and neck. Both my parents had back problems too – could it have been that silly bed? I don’t know. Regardless, I remember the “wieners and sausages” we called them, a sort of neck brace that Dad often had to wear when in discomfort. As a child, I always thought that a heating pad was meant to stay on the big chair, I didn’t understand how intense and horrible back pain can be, and how a little heat can bring huge relief. It’s funny how the memories all come flooding in. Not so funny when you can relate.

This morning I went up to hug my sleepy-eyed four year old boy who was standing at the top of the stairs, confused because he had slept in for the first time ever and was wondering where we all were. I hugged him and picked him up and took two steps down the stairs with him in my arms… and then my back went out. It’s horrible. I can’t bend down to get something I dropped, I can’t pick up my baby, I can’t carry my diaper bag or church bag or any bag, and any little movement – including a cough or sneeze – are death-defying. I remember Dad’s big sneezes and then his cringing “ow” – but now, unfortunately, I can relate.

So I’m getting old, apparently. I even took a nap today. As I lay with a heating pad on my back and now prepare to take a hot bath (I hate baths), I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to get everything done when Mr. Man leaves tomorrow morning. Hopefully I’ll sleep it right and wake up feeling all better. I really don’t want it to linger longer and go see a doctor who encourages me to do funny exercises hanging off the back of my bed. But time will tell.

Day by Day

Each week we set a new goal, or else re-dedicate ourselves more fervently to last week’s goal. It has something to do with our family motto being Emil Coué’s famous quote “Every day in every way I am getting better and better.” Mr. T’s goal this week was once again to learn to tie his shoes. I admit, I tend to steer their minds a bit when coming up with their goals, and I am more than tired of having to tie up 6 shoes (possible 8, if my own need tying) every time we go outside. Another pet peeve is on the edge of vanishing as well, as Little E works on his goal to “Wipe my bum”. I cringe every time I hear him holler “I’m all done!” in that silly sing-song way he does and then hold my breath as I bend down to wipe yet another rear. Not fun. I made the mistake of asking my kids what they thought Mommy’s goal should be; here’s what I got thrown in my face:
*No yelling
*Give yourself a reading lesson (instead of Mr. T)
*Give your kids more treats
*Eat breakfast with your kids (I tend to eat before or after them so I can read to them)
*Take care of Baby J
*Don’t give us so much clean laundry to put away
*Play piano more

The week that hasn't even really started yet

It's been a bad day. I admit. Mr. Man will return around 1am tonight and that is a very good thing. I can't believe he used to leave for a week or so every month. This kills me. My sister-in-laws who are going through months of this are saints.

He has our van (and our second car passed away several weeks ago) so we are on foot. Which really is fine. Except for when you're walking for 1/2 hour to church and your four year old decides now would be a good time to tell you that his church shoes are really WAY too small and he has horrible blisters on his heels so needs to be carried while you push the stroller. Then it would be extremely convenient for your daughter to suddenly get a stomach bug of some sort that entails both vomiting and diarrhea (I hate that word), which would mean having to make a huge scene in sacrament meeting and then walk home again (though, thankfully a friend happened to be in the hall to perceive what we were about to do and drove us home, and thankfully nobody vomited in her van).

Three hours of church was actually something I was looking forward to on a in-house-bound day, so it was a LONG day for all of us. Mr. Man and I spent some time on the phone doing our weekly planning. Incredibly the week is already completely filled up with no room for incidentals (or stomach bugs - are you reading this?!) I'm already overwhelmed and NOT looking forward to the week. I've been spending some time pondering how to make it survivable, and I decided I'm going to be Summer Mom this week. Remember her? So, now I'm filled with less dread, more hope and actually a little skip to my skepticism. Here's to the week that hasn't even really started yet; may you all have the sanity and strength to survive, and maybe even smile!

Subtle Changes

As the seasons change, the subtle changes in my children seem more apparent as well. There's the drastic change and jumps in pant sizes, the increased knowledge and skill in sports and music, the jokes are funnier, the conversations more mature, and the questions more meaningful. In a small way, the season of my life is changing. A leaf has fallen; a passing. Often I look back wondering if I savored the seasons passed, did I enjoy the heat, the chills, the daily highs and the lows? And I think I did.

And besides, there are still many more seasons to enjoy.
(PS - I think he could be Edward Cullen)

Double Hitter

Notice a nice wound on either side of his sweet little head. Walking is wonderful, falling hurts. Two days in a row is even worse. Ouch.

The Dissert*tion **ptop

Mr. Man is up to his eyeballs in dissertation writing. Were that all he were up to his eyeballs in, that wouldn’t be so bad. But he is still teaching, working on all the applications for a gazillion potential jobs, fulfilling his church calling and responsibilities, as well as being the best Dad, homework helper, dish washer, toy fixer, loving and supportive husband around. (The man even cleaned the bathroom and did the grocery shopping last week in exchange for some editing.) He has conferences to attend, regressions to run, and lunches to be had with special people from special places. And in the midst of it all, as I said, a dissertation to complete on a laptop that thinks it is done. Well, at least the “L”, “A”, “CTRL”, and the period are done working. They stick and refuse to participate in said dissertation, period. It’s like the book “Ella Minnow Pea”. Tonight the screen stopped working, while the computer was still running. But it has to make it. There is no money until there is a job. And there is no job until there is a dissertation. And there will be no dissertation without the laptop. Perhaps it can sense that we have already planned its demise; specifically, it will be dropped several stories from the stairwell in the building Mr. Man studies in – from a location where we can see downward to its final doom and destruction. Silly **ptop. I suppose you have to blame an incomplete dissertation on something.

Some Reasons Why I Love October

*It’s the one month we get to use up all of our black construction paper that regularly goes unused
*General Conference
*Apples and pumpkins and all the yummy baking concoctions that can be made from them (I have an apple crisp in my oven right now!)
*The smell of burning leaves
*The sound of crisp crunchy leaves beneath my feet
*The spider webs I have ignored all year around my house are now part of my décor
*C.A.N.D.Y.
*Canadian Thanksgiving (today!!!)

Now... if it would just cool down a little bit here...

Toddlerhood: The true test of Motherhood

Today my son pulled the stool out of the bathroom into the dining area so that he could climb onto a chair and then onto the kitchen table. Later he continuously threw his stick as far as possible into the street so that he would have a valid excuse to run into the street. This was after he had covered his body and mouth in blue marker (which still won’t come off, but blends in quite nicely with all of his self-inflicted bruises). And I swear, all of this took only about 24 minutes of this entire 24 hour day. It’s enough to make me want to run into the street
These years of toddlerhood are not my favourite at all. Give me a newborn until he turns one, then give me a potty-trained, fully-speaking three year old and I would be a happy Mommy. Yes, the age seems adorable, but I’ve been fooled with the best squeezes and smooches which turn into a bite – so I know better. Cute and innocent right? Right. But oh, how my prayers have changed as I plead for more patience… as mine is once again being constantly tested.

According to E

Upon observing Baby J's incessant drippy nose, Little E pointed out to me that "Babies don't have boogers. They just have snot."

Warm Fuzzies

Do you remember these? I attended numerous kinds of “conferences” as a teen: youth leadership conferences, student council conferences, young women of excellence YMCA conferences… and more. I loved these, often weekend, retreats. Loved the friendships developed, loved the leadership skills obtained, and the fun-filled activities and warm fuzzies. Warm fuzzies were where everyone would have to write something wonderful about you on some sort of paper – whether one large one on your back, or several smaller ones placed in an envelope with your name on it. I still have several warm fuzzies from years past which are a reminder of the girl I once was. Reading them make me laugh at times and events that no longer make up who I am, but definitely have shaped who I have become.

A few weeks ago my Mom called and asked my advice. I know, I was shocked too. My amazing Mom had an organizational dilemma that she thought I would be able to help her solve… I laugh, since I have gained my organizational skills from my Mom and all her great housekeeping skills and examples. And yet… Her problem was such that her journals are too full of notes and cards that she cares to keep, mostly thank you notes for all the extraordinary service she continually gives, and she felt that she needed to find a new system for storing them lest she break the bindings of her journals! I had to be honest in telling her that I don’t have a system for such cards, and that I typically will read such heartfelt cards, use them as a bookmark for the book I am in the midst of reading and then discard. In recent years though, I have decided to keep such special cards in the back of the book I have read, and since I have a habit of re-reading the books on my shelves, I now have several notes to re-read at these times as well. I just started re-reading a favourite book from my shelf, and the card in the back was indeed a warm fuzzy and a great treat to remind me of my worth.

So while it’s not a great organizational tip or tool, it is definitely a treasure and something worth sharing – though I wonder if my own mother has as many books as she has thank you notes!