Check it Out

Hey, Friends,

I'm making a switch-over to a new blog: What in the Hootenanny! This one will be over and I'll be using the other for all my blogging needs.

Thanks,

Keegan

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good-bye

For some time, I've been waffling back and forth about what I want to do about this blog. My poor husband and mom probably think I'm borderline schizophrenic: "I'm going to close the blog/I'm not going to close the blog/I'm going to close the blog/I'm not . . ." Well, you get the point. In the end, I've decided that I am. There are a number of reasons I've decided it would be better for me to exit the family blogging world, but I won't go into all of them.

The main reason is that I have been having a quarter-life crisis of sorts and I feel the need to shed myself of non-essentials, particularly anything that keeps me from more important responsibilities and anything that causes me unnecessary stress of which this blog is sometimes both. I'll still follow my friends on your blogs; these relationships are important to me. And I may someday become a blogger again, but for now-- while I "find myself"--I'm shutting us down here. Thanks for following us here during the last four years.

Much love and Peace out!

The Pleasure of their Company

A conversation with my friend Stacy today reminded me what awesome little boys I have. I have to admit that I had [not very good] reasons for being a little bit annoyed with them today, so I needed a reminder that these two little boys aren't an interruption in the course of my day-- I'm lucky enough that they get to be my day if I'll only let them.

For instance, Caleb is mostly an even-tempered, well-mannered kid. Whenever one of my friends watches him, she'll return him to me with a "Caleb was great, as usual" comment. Many of our friends who are childless, looking forward to being parents someday, say, "If I have a boy, I hope he's just like Caleb." (That's not to say he doesn't have his moments, like when he hit one of his good friends with a solid Melissa and Doug puzzle box in her chest, or when he throws a rousing, screaming tantrum, for instance.) Overall, though, he's eager to please.

That's not to say that he's bland, though. He's interesting and curious and communicative. He can also be quite opinionated. He has an aptitude for puzzles, which he gets from Patrick. At three, he's pretty familiar with the alphabet and he's good with numbers. Physically, he tends to be cautious, so his motor skills are about average for now. He enjoys a good art project (especially involving paint and/or stickers) and he likes to help me cook. He's quite tech-y in his interests lately and especially enjoys video games, computers, and movies. He's always enjoyed a good story, so he loves books. Today, I read him several chapters of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane during Eli's nap. He's always enjoyed getting messy and dirty, which is right up my alley. He recently loves to race-- he's into the competitive aspect of it, but not too much; he's still content to win "too" (meaning second).

He's not a constant cuddler, but he's affectionate, gives hugs easily, and says, "I love you" out of the blue regularly. He's quick to say, "Thank you for this yummy dinner" (which I think he might have picked up from my dad's training last summer). And every once in awhile, he'll start rubbing my back when we're sitting next to each other. He's really an incredible kid, and I hope he'll always know how lucky we feel to have him in our family.

Eli is also a delight. I recently described him to several different people and their laughter reinforced my belief that he's a little person with a lot of character. First off, he so adorable! I mean, as my friend Stacy and I were discussing today, he's really at that perfect, cute, enjoyable age. But he's also just oh-so-especially-cute with his adorable dimpled smile that is so dang infectious.

He's recently become a blanket kid-- not the velcro kind, just the buddy kind (he doesn't need it constantly, but he likes to have it around). He's a climber. If we'd let him, he'd hang out above ground-level most of the day. He loves books (board books that aren't too long) and he regularly shows up to shove them in my hands and climbs in my lap to be read to. He's an insistent communicator. He mostly learns signs and words as they suit him and won't be pressured into learning them just because I want him to. He loves my scrapbooks (which suits my vanity beautifully--smart kid), and he is devastated into a tantrum whenever I put them away. He especially loves pictures of us with our tongues sticking out (of which there are a great deal of Patrick especially).

He is also opinionated. He loathes brushing his teeth and whenever the toothbrush isn't in his mouth, he's insisting he's "ahhh daa!" and saying "no no!" He learned to tickle early (Patrick loves to tickle) and will tickle himself saying, "liddle, liddle, liddle."

He loves Caleb and he falls apart emotionally whenever Caleb gets out of the car to go to Joy School. He also loves to aggravate Caleb already. A frequent sight at our house is Caleb wailing, "I was playing with that! Eli took the toys I'm playing with!" and Eli booking it out of the room grasping said toy tightly in his hand with a big grin on his face, sometimes with laughter spilling out of him wickedly.

Eli is also a bit dramatic. Give him a food he doesn't want--even if he ate it ravenously yesterday--and he'll turn away as far as the high chair will allow crying, "No! No!" with a disgusted look on his face like you've tried to feed him some sort of inedible glop.

He is also affectionate. He willingly gives hugs and will sometimes cuddle contentedly for quite awhile. He is picky about people. He adores many of our good friends who he sees regularly. He will go right up to these women and climb into their lap or ask to be picked up with an "aat! aat!" (which means up). Sometimes there isn't exactly rhyme or reason to it. When my in-laws were here, he immediately gravitated to my father-in-law, who is marvelous, don't get me wrong, but is also a big gruff, tough looking man, and wouldn't give my mother-in-law (who is warm and eager and willing to play) the time of day at the beginning of their visit. Eli's mischief and drama often bring us to laughter, and his hugs add warmth to our home. We're also lucky to have him in our lives.

We couldn't imagine life without either one of our sweet, funny, bright little gentlemen in our lives. Thanks, Stacy and Jared, for reminding me to take notice.

An Unexpected Time to Count My Blessings

Four of My Many Soul Sisters

("Support network" sounded too organized, "friends" didn't seem chummy enough, and "helpers" sounded too stilted, so sue me.)

On Sunday night, Patrick and I had one of the roughest sick-to-our-stomach nights of our married life so far. The next day, we were both weak and tired and still sickly. I won't give you the gory details, but the fact was that neither of us was in any shape to take care of two healthy (for which I was grateful), energetic little boys. I managed to get them dressed and feed them some breakfast, and then I was done. Almost all of our friends only have room for one more kid than their own, and I wasn't really in a condition to drive or even step out of my house, so I racked my brains to think of who (two people) I could call on for help. And in the moment, a flood of options charged through my brain. That was then followed by a flood of reasons some of them couldn't help or it would be too inconvenient, but I knew that if it came down to it even those who couldn't easily help would lend a hand if they were needed.

But my reasons for gratitude didn't end with that. I called my friend Amber and said, "Will you take Caleb for the day? We feel awful." And do you know what she said? "I'll be there in ten minutes. Is it okay if I come in my pajamas?" If I hadn't been so disgusting and she had been in the room, I could have hugged her (and I'm not really a hugger).

Then, I called my friend Temma who has a little boy just Eli's age. Didn't get ahold of her. Called my friend Stacy. Stacy said, "Well, we have this appointment, so I could for an hour, or if you need help this afternoon, let me know." It turned out Temma's little boy was sick, but I know she would have watched Eli for me if he hadn't been. By then, I was a little wiped out and couldn't make any more phone calls. Patrick was doing okay and hadn't been as busy as me up to that point, so he offered to take charge of Eli so I could sleep. Eli fell asleep unexpectedly that morning, so I called Stacy when I woke up, and she said, "Yes. I'll pick him up on my way home." Like that, we magically had the afternoon without any responsibilities. For three hours, we slept. Then we woke up, I took a shower, and we gathered our children back into our house, fed them microwaved chicken nuggets for dinner, and we all fell into bed. The next day, we felt much better.

I know that not everyone is so lucky to have a community of support like that. If I had my way, though, every woman would be so lucky. Because we definitely all need it at times. Thanks so much to my community, and may you always know that you can call on me when you're in need.

D'oh!

(Note: I looked this word (d'oh) up online. I had no idea it was from the Simpsons-- I'm not a Simpsons watcher. Interesting etymology.)

By a series of events recently, I have come to reflect on a few of my biggest "d'oh" moments in the last few years. Now, to be perfectly honest, I have these daily, several times a day. Some junk or stupid gossip or idiot comment just slips out of my mouth (or sometimes out of my keyboard when I'm writing) like vomit. I like that image because 1.) I feel like it's that disgusting sometimes, and 2.) it feels like I can't control myself: I feel the thought fly through my brain and out my mouth and into the air and it sits there taunting me, making me think I probably shouldn't be seen or heard from in public. Ever. But the truth is that I realize the imagery is not fair because I really should control myself and really can control myself, so it's kind of a cop-out.

But, as those are probably the more horrible and embarrassing and wretched of my d'oh moments, I'll just keep those to myself. Here are a few that have been on my mind.

1.) Oh, And You're an Expert on That, Are you?

(this started this whole chain of thought)

So my husband and his friend are MBA students. For a project for their classes, they started this brilliant blog on living frugally as a student family. They then asked that their friends (and demanded that their wives) contribute. I wrote a little piece on shopping thrift because we had an awesome Goodwill experience some months ago. We spent very little for a great deal, and most of it was great quality. My favorite item was not high-class, though; it was simply a pair of jeans. They fit beautifully and they flattered me and they were the style that I like. They were a little worn, but it just added to the comfortable feel of them. I raved about finding my favorite pair of jeans at Goodwill. And then on Monday, I came home from being out and was standing in my bedroom, and noticed that there was a big hole on the inside of the thigh. I fumed to my husband, "Stupid Goodwill pants!" And he just burst out laughing like, How high a standard can you have for Goodwill anyway? kind of laugh. It doesn't really negate all our awesome finds or my post, but, um, it seems to take away a certain credibility.

2.) That Might Need Some Edditting

In college, I studied English language for my major, and editing as my minor. I also determined that I was going to graduate with honors, as in, through the honors program. This required a number of things: reading certain books, watching certain movies, writing certain reviews, taking certain classes, and--the thing I was most concerned about--writing an honors thesis. In the end, my thesis idea was to interview members of the Linguistics and English Language Department on the history and scope of the department, and then I would edit the interviews and compile it together for my thesis. I secured a thesis adviser and got to work with my interviews. This was months of work, mind you. When it was all over and I looked at that beautiful honors book in my hand, I started to read. On the first page, the very first page, of the introduction, there is an error: "will" is misspelled as "with." Now, I'm not really a perfectionist, but in an honors thesis that is supposed to be by an editing student, I was horrified. Not that it's the sort of thing that one would read with enthralling regularity anyway, but I have never read the whole thing through (since receiving the bound copy, that is) because I'm afraid I might find more blaring errors.

(Note: To confirm my memory, I had to go find the error. I realized that four years later, it doesn't bother me as much as it used to, so that's helpful.)

3. Maybe People With Little Knowledge and No Experience Shouldn't Be Too Pig-Headed

In our first church congregation at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints after we were married, I was asked to be the "Primary President." This usually involves overseeing all the children ages 18 months to 12 years. So it can be a pretty intense calling. In this ward, when I was first called, all the children were babies except for one, single 2-year-old girl. So my calling was really "Nursery Leader" (the class for 18-month-old to 3-year-old children) for one child. Because so many of the wards had only a few children old enough to be in nursery, the classes were combined so that more children could be together. I can't even remember why, now, but I got it into my head that we shouldn't get together with the other wards. I decided that our one little girl should have her own little class. Our bishop was supportive of me in my calling and he told me to go ahead. Later, he told me that the girl's parents were concerned. They thought that the social interaction with other kids her age would be good for her. In the end, the bishop supported her parents and asked us to return to the way we'd been doing it.

(Note: This isn't the only thing that I felt stubborn about in nursery which were probably wrong; there were quite a few.) And even after we went back, I thought I was in the right and the parents didn't have my vision (whatever that was). Now, several years later, with children of my own, I wish I could apologize for being so stupid and self-righteous and down-right wrong. I am sure they don't remember it or if they do, they probably just roll their eyes about it and smile, but I remember it as a humbling moment when at some point, I realized how silly I'd been about the whole inconsequential episode.

In short...

It's probably best if I never consider myself an expert on anything.

Do you have any d'oh moments worth sharing?

Time Just Slips Away

Every once in awhile, I come to the end of the day, look back on it and realize that my little children are growing up. I know, they're only three and one, but still cumulatively that's so many days, so many hours, so many moments piled on top of each other that are past now. Not only the time, but their old selves also slip away. Eli was once a newborn, then an infant (rolling and sitting up), then a baby (pulling himself up and crawling), and now he's a toddler. Caleb was once a newborn, then an infant, then a baby, then a toddler, and now he's an early preschooler. One of my favorite times of the day is when I go in after they've gone to sleep to make sure they're covered. Though their brains may be working, for just a second they are as frozen in time and development as two healthy growing boys ever are.

Caleb

Actually, our night had some moments that were definitely NOT tender. Caleb fought with me over brushing his teeth and flossing. I don't know how to make this a pleasant activity, but it's an especially necessary nightly activity at our house because Caleb has a (so far not serious) heart condition-- a bicuspid aortic valve-- that is in more danger if he gets an infection, so his cardiologist has been telling us for the last two years that we need to get him good dental care. After literally wrestling with him to brush his teeth tonight (most of the time he's more cooperative), I couldn't help railing, "Who in the world thinks it's a good idea to floss a three-year-olds teeth!!" In any case, harsh words were spoken. Caleb was so wiggly and kept talking and pointing at me and I was so frustrated that I held him down to brush his teeth. Then I tried to floss and, with tears coming out of his angry face, he declared, "I don't want you to. You're being . . . mean!" And I responded angrily that it was because he was being difficult. It wound up that he went to bed without getting his teeth flossed, praying, getting scripture story, or reading scriptures (the last two being his favorite part of our bedtime routine).

Then Patrick read scriptures to me and Eli while I sat fuming and frustrated, both at myself and at Caleb. In the course of this whole discussion, I remembered a blog post I had read by a friend of mine, an elementary school music teacher, on the beauty of the words, "I forgive you." After I put Eli in his crib in the boys' room, I sat by Caleb's bed.

"How do you feel?" I asked Caleb.

"Sad," he sobbed.

"Do you think Mommy was bad?"

"Yes."

"What did I do that was bad?"

"I don't know."

"Remember how you said I was mean. Was I being mean?"

"Yes."

"I was mean, Caleb. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you were bad?"

"I can't remember."

"Were you being wiggly and crazy and making it hard for me to brush your teeth?"

"Yes. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, I forgive you, Caleb."

And we gave each other a hug. At our house, we are trying to learn about the Holy Ghost and what it feels like.

"When we were fighting, I couldn't feel the Holy Ghost, Caleb. It went away, and I felt so bad inside. I feel so much better now."

And it was true! What a difference it made to make peace and forgive each other! But the fact that my little boy, my very first baby, had this conversation with me and could tell me how he felt and could understand, to some degree, what it means to apologize and forgive, it just reminded me that he's not a baby anymore, which is both wonderful and fantastic and exciting, but is also a little mystifying and maybe in a certain sense even a little sad that he's grown so much.

Eli

There wasn't any drama with Eli today. He had his moments of begging and grunting and whining, but overall there wasn't any real contention.

What astounded me with Eli had to do with when I was making dinner. Eli had been munching on pretzels, and I decided he'd better stop so he would have room for dinner. He still kept hanging out in our (TINY) kitchen and going "eh! eh!" begging and whining. Now, in the past, I've deterred him by handing him something and saying, "Go take this to Daddy." So I knew that he had a basic understanding of following instructions. Today, I was in the midst of setting the table and had the fridge open. He made a grab for the {fako} bacon bits and I was serving a salad, so I said, "Oh good! Go put those on the table, Eli." To my surprise, he did it and came back for more! He then proceeded to load the table with croutons, forks, a cup, and a water bottle (all in the exact same location on the table). Even my current baby is becoming a capable, intelligent, functioning little person. It astounds me and amazes me.

Me

Come to think of it, I have often thought and heard other people express how God must look on us as babies with so little comprehension. If there's an equivalency there, then it gives me some comfort that every once in awhile he must think, "Wow! Look at you! You're doing great! You're growing and understanding and learning. Keep up the good work, little one." I hope that this year will be a year when he will feel that way about me. I hope that this year I will grow a little wiser, a little stronger, and a little more compassionate. Here's to hoping!

Snips and Snails vs. Sugar and Spice

Girls and Boys

My mom tells a story from when she was a new young parent. She says a prevailing parenting philosophy of the time was that children were a clean slate and that parents geared their children towards having boy characteristics and girl characteristics. In respect to this philosophy, my parents thought they would work hard to bring balance to their children. They began working to bring out my older brothers' softer sides by buying them each a doll. From the start, my brothers played with those dolls differently than girls would, but when my mom decided that the "clean slate" philosophy was really hogwash was when she came into a room with my brother standing next to the bed, the doll on the bed . . . with its innards (stuffing in this case) sprawled all around it. My brother pointed to the doll accusingly, and defended himself: "He did it." At that point, my mom came to the conclusion that boys' and girls' brains just work differently, and it isn't all about parenting, and she was okay with that.

Up to this point with Caleb and his friends, I haven't noticed huge differences between the girls and boys, nothing that I could say conclusively, "This is what boy two-year-olds do and this is what girl two-year-olds do." So much seemed as much based on personality as on gender differences. Recently, now as a three-year-old, I've begun to see Caleb and his boy friends mark a clearly different line of thinking and behavior than his girl friends.

There are some interesting things I've observed:

Mothers and Sons

Motherly little three-year-olds sort of translates into "bossy." And I don't mean that unkindly, as I adore Caleb's little girl friends, but it amazes me to hear how they talk to their friends. A few days ago, we were with several friends. One little boy kept trying to get his mom's attention, "Mom! Mom! Mom!" And our little girl friend said, absolutely seriously and repeatedly, "I'm right here. I'm listening. I'm right here." Now, the fact that she was standing there with a doll in a doll stroller might mean simply that she was playing pretend, and I'll grant you that. But then yesterday at Joy School, I listened to her and another little girl both telling the boys to lie down, be quiet, sit here, etc.

The boys? How do they handle this? They seem a little baffled sometimes. They sometimes obey and sometimes resist. When they disapprove of what someone else is doing, do they tell the person what to do? Not unless the other kid is infringing on what they consider their rights-- taking their chair or toy, for instance. And then it's not in terms of what you should do, it's in terms of how you're upsetting me-- that's Mine! I had that first! with the implication being, of course, that you should return it to me. At this age, I think the boys are more likely to call on an adult for assistance. They don't seem to claim any real authority.

Movies and Stories

Another way I see differences is in pretend play. Almost all the girls I know are obsessed with princesses. Their mothers all insist that they haven't done anything to promote this love-- well, not in the beginning, anyway. Once the girls had fastened on it already, then I know they've gotten them princess things for birthdays and Christmas.

The boys are into fighting and war. Caleb is always talking about the good guys and bad guys. We're not an especially aggressive family, although we do participate in some mean pillow fights. All the boys yesterday at Joy School were running around after each other saving the world.

I was trying to think about how this happens, and I think it must be from stories and movies-- what draws their attention and what they take into their play--is just different.

Relationships

The other day, we went to a bounce house with one of Caleb's favorite friends. There are all these different blow-up bouncing houses there, and the kids would run around from one to the other to go through the mazes and down the slides. When they got separated, Caleb's friend would run around asking, "Where's Caleb? Where's Caleb?" She was eager to find him and connect with him and be with him. Now this little girl is one of Caleb's favorite little friends. They play amazingly together, but when I would ask Caleb "don't you want to find" her? He would say, "No." It wasn't that he doesn't care about her. I know he loves her. He just didn't need to be with her to establish the friendship. As a woman, I could relate more to the little girl. I felt like he should want to play with her; or that as a good friend, he should go find her. I had to just separate myself from it and admit this might just be one of many moments to come when I would have to accept that his way-- the boy way-- is an okay way, even if it's different than my way--the girl way.

Conclusion

In short, I'm having an awesome time observing and learning from these little children surrounding me. And I love them all, boys and girls. Do you notice these same sorts of things? What do you see that shows how girls and boys are different when they are little?

Children's Books

I know, I know, what I should post about is Christmas. But I acknowledge that Christmas should be posted about with pictures and I don't have any pictures on my computer, so for now I will postpone updating you on our (FANTASTIC!) Christmas week in favor of another post I've been thinking of for awhile. (You can read this as: Soon Christmas will be very passe and I have so many other outlets for keeping this information for myself that you may never actually see much about my Christmas, but, hey, now you know it was great.)

Anyway, the truth is, like most of you, I love books. Furthermore, I would like to be a published author someday. With that in mind, I'd like to make a shout-out recommendation for some children's books that we've loved. Though we do love them, I won't be listing well-known authors like Sandra Boynton, Dr. Seuss, and Mercer Mayer or others like them because you all know them.

1. Edward the Emu and Edwina the Emu by Sheena Knowles [Rod Clement, illustrator]

My mom (not surprisingly) introduced us to these books. Patrick prefers Edwina. I prefer Edward. We both like them both a lot, though. The illustrations are fantastic! The people have such distinctive lines and curves. The visual comparisons between Emus and lions, snakes, seals, etc. are just incredibly fun. And the rhythm is wonderful too-- it makes the stories easy to learn. The plot is unique. Definitely check these out.

2. My Name is Not Alexander by Jennifer Fosberry [Mike Litwin, illustrator]

My mom and I stumbled on this in a Barnes and Noble in Phoenix. Great stumble! It's sort of whet-your-appetite educational. With a three-year-old, I love the chance to introduce him to people, ideas, history, etc., but I don't want to be obnoxious about it. This is a great kind of story-- it makes the introduction and he can ask more about these historic people if he's interested. Plus, I admit, I'm sort of a sucker for dad books because I noticed at some point that we had collected tons more mommy-loves-you books than daddy books. Obviously, I was so pleased when we received this for Christmas from my mom. Someday, if/when I have a girl, there's a girl/mom one that we'll be acquiring, too.

3. A Very Hairy, Scary Story by Rick Walton [David H. Clark, illustrator]

So Caleb really got into this book about eight months ago (around 2 1/2). The illustrations, again, are stellar. And the concept-- the girl's imagination running away with her-- may not be original in itself, but it's done in a unique way. It can be scary for kids when they first read it, but it becomes fun when they begin to see that the monsters aren't real. My son loved to tell people, "It's not really a spider. It's a grill." I think he was trying to prevent them from being scared; plus, it's awesome when you start seeing the connection. I guess I ought to recommend this for Halloween, except that we love it all year long. This is another great Dad book; in fact, it was part of the assortment I got Patrick for Father's Day last year.

There are more that we love, but I'll leave it at these three for now. Maybe later in the year, I'll recommend some more. We love books, so share some of your favorites with us. And if you're on Goodreads and we're not friends, "friend" me because I'm nosy like that.