Greg really is such a good dad! I always tell him that our kids are going to be okay because of him. Of course, he is the most adored in the entire house. When anyone is hurt or scared or sad or even deliriously happy, Dad is the one they want (including myself). I wonder if our kids realize how truly blessed they are to have a dad that not only loves them, but genuinely enjoys being with them and takes the time to be with them. Lucky kids; lucky me!
Greg took Austin and Macy to the parkway after school yesterday to ride bikes for a few hours. Paige felt so left out. So today, he rode around the neighborhood with her:
Taelyn took a turn. Even though she wasn't entirely convinced this was a good idea, she did smile for the camera:
Greg tried to convince the girls that riding a bike without training wheels was super fun. When his words failed, he hopped on the bike to show them:
Have you seen this commercial? The one where the dad is giving his daughter the keys to the car, but the little girl is about 5 years old? Then, in the last frame, we realize that the little girl is really 16, and that the dad just sees her as a 5-year-old.
Every time we see it, Greg shakes his head and says it's the meanest commercial he's ever seen. Then, he has to get up off the couch and walk into the kitchen or bathroom, for just a minute. You see, I married a pacer. I learned about this when we were dating. Greg lived with his sister, Janet and her husband, Ben and their three kids when we were dating. Well, he lived there part-time. He still had an apartment in Provo, but a job in Salt Lake. Not to mention a girlfriend in Salt Lake. So, he stayed there part of the time. One evening, we were all sitting around their kitchen table when they got a call from Greg's parents. Greg's little brother had eloped in Las Vegas and had just turned up at his parent's house in California. I sat in the chair and watched him walk into the front room, back into the kitchen, down the stairs into the living room, up the stairs into the front room, back into the kitchen...over and over again while talking on the phone. Whenever Greg is walking the house while chatting on the phone, I know that something is bothering him.
But...back to the commercial. As my children are growing up, and their problems are becoming "bigger" than potty-training, who took what toy and from whom, and sleeping through the night, I have a really hard time not seeing them as my little ones. I struggle with knowing how to handle a problem that does not involve pulling my toddler or preschooler on my lap and just cuddling it away. I also have a hard time not looking into the future and seeing how a particular problem will become so challenging. I also have a hard time accepting the fact that we all have issues that we battle with throughout this lifetime. I can see some of those in my kids, and I have to accept that I can't fix them because they aren't for me to "fix." They were hand-picked trials that God has given them to battle through. I can support and I can help, but they are theirs and theirs alone. That is a heart-wrenching truth for a mother, and it seems unfair to look at an 11-year-old or 8-year-old or even a 5-year-old and see those trials and struggles and know they are for their good.
In all honesty, sometimes I miss those kids. Getting Austin to talk...just talk to me...is like pulling teeth. And I look at him and see that sweet, always energetic, chatty little three-year-old who loved every second of life (so much so that he couldn't bear the thought of going to sleep because he might miss something). He was my little buddy. We loved being together. Just like the dad in the commercial, I can look at Austin and see him as that little boy that I simply adored. Sometimes, I wish I could just reach back in time and squeeze that adorable little boy, and read him a story, and tuck him in bed.
I guess I just find myself on the cusp. On the cusp of teenagers...on the cusp of "real" problems...on the cusp of Jr. High...on the cusp of PG-13 movies and parties and short skirts...on the cusp of temptations of every shape and size...on the cusp of new friends. I'm nervous for this next phase of life. I worry about my inability to handle what is inevitably coming our way. And just like the dad in the commercial, I desperately want to keep my kids safe and sheltered, but I know I have to start to let go and trust. Trust that (just like I did and still do) Austin will learn from his experiences - good and bad. Trust that his struggles will make him stronger and that growth comes from trials. Trust that the Lord will compensate for the things that we lack as parents. Simply trust in this process of life.
And I wonder if I will always see my children the way the dad in the commercial sees his little girl? I wonder if my parents sometimes look at me and think: When did they allow a cute, chubby, curly-haired little girl to become the mother of 5 children?!? When I struggle, I wonder if my dad wants to just climb in bed with me and tell stories and sing songs and rub his fingers through my hair until I fall asleep just like he did when I was little. I wonder if my mom wants to slip me some frozen chocolate chips and settle down in the recliner and tickle the inside of my arm with her beautiful fingernails to calm me down.
And I wonder how a mother's heart is supposed to navigate all this "growing up" that must take place?!?
I decided to throw a candlelight Valentines dinner this year and invite the children. So, the day before Valentines Day, I raided my mother's house. It seems that if I were to make a list of things I do not own, it would include the following: a tablecloth, candlesticks, drinking apparatus made of anything other than plastic that do not display Disney characters, and any holiday-oriented serving platters. It was actually quite funny. As I was loading up my mother's crystal goblets, my grandmother (who has Alzheimer's and does not remember who I am) thought I was robbing the place. She actually held a few plates in her arms and really was not going to let me have them. I had quite the time trying to explain that I was just borrowing them and that I had permission. Eventually, I came away with a presentable table for our Love Feast.
Although the kids didn't necessarily love the sparking cider, they did love toasting one another and saying "Darling" incessantly.
My children, and my husband, love (that's L.O.V.E.) crab legs. I did buy a few King Crab legs for Greg (after all, he is the whole reason I even cater a Love Feast) and a few Snow Crab legs for the children (because King Crab may as well be gold-plated for as much as they cost, and although I truly love my children, there are limits).
Here is the Master teaching his oh-so-attentive proteges.
The carnage:
Then, I spent the evening creating these Valentine Box I-Pods out of old cereal boxes for Austin and Macy to take to school the next day:
It has long been my tradition to create candy bar posters for my kids on Valentines Day. Usually, I have them displayed so they wake up to find them, but since I spent the majority of the evening making the cereal-box I-pods, I had to do these while the kids were at school. Every year, I tell myself that I'm going to cut it down and make it small, and every year, I end up with gigantic posters. This year, I hung them on the back of our kitchen chairs so they were there when the kids got home from school.
Taelyn was over while I was making the posters and she wanted one so I made one for her too. Then Paige and Taelyn had fun decorating their posters with hearts.
As much as I adore my husband, Valentines Day has never been a big deal for us. The first year we were married, me made homemade cards for each other, and the tradition has just sort of stuck. The tradition being: Show a small token of love and appreciation and try to spend as little money as possible. It works really well for us.
This post is for Jackie. A few weeks ago, she posted on Facebook a comment about how her children manage to make a gigantic mess with the toothpaste. Greg and I came home last Friday night to Toothbrushing Gone Wild. I just thought I would document the pictures. I hope this makes you feel better Jackie! Just knowing that you're not alone is sometimes the best medicine!
No matter how many times I wash it, my hand still sticks to the hairbrush every time I use it.
So, I had to start a new blog. Apparently, I have somehow met my limit for uploaded pictures on my old blog and now blogger wants to charge me for this service (even though I erased a bunch of pictures from old blog posts...fishy, don't you think?!?). Instead of spending the moolah, I just decided to start a new blog.
Now, I know that in 2012, blogging is about as archaic as cd walkmen
Tamagotchi
and "The Weakest Link"
but here's the dill (no, I did not mis-spell that word; I am from Utah, so it is pronounced "dill" and not "deal"): This is the best way for me to create some form of journal/history. I know that the trendy thing is to be witty enough to sum up the moment of your life in a Facebook Post or a humorous Tweet. However, long ago I accepted the fact that I am neither witty nor intelligent; simply long-winded. While these are my thoughts and my images and my interpretations, I am determined to preserve these thoughts, images, and interpretations in the most honest way possible, while trying to err on the side of optimism rather than pessimism. When my children and grandchildren read my words (if they can process ALL of the words), I want them to see a person who has good days and bad days, struggles and triumphs, laughter and tears. In short, I want them to see a real person who tried her best (most days) to do what she thought was right. Sometimes, I was successful and sometimes I was not.
It's important to me.
I made a book out of my blog posts from 2011, and my children have devoured it. (In the instance of the corner of page 58, I mean that quite literally.) It cost me a small fortune. Just as I do with my daughter's American Girl Doll, I have to fight the urge to say: "That is for looking and not touching." But, life is for living, and I have learned that life is messy. I have also learned that I can tell my children that I love them, but seeing mom print pictures and write about the poignant, hilarious, embarrassing, and revolting has made them not only feel special but absolutely essential to our family.
My old blog was entitled "Crazy Making House" which came from a line of a play. It has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The older I get, the crazier I become. So, I have decided to upgrade my status to insanity.
"Insanity is hereditary. You can catch it from your kids."
-Erma Bombeck
In my case, I think the condition is full-blown. I have felt more than inadequate lately. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why the deeper I go into this world of parenthood, the more lost I feel. When I was pregnant with the twins, my mom turned to me and said: "If this doesn't teach you patience, then you're a lost cause." (The jury's still out.) I would also like to add that I firmly believe parenting is supposed to teach me humility. It is stripping me of everything I thought I knew of myself, and I hope, someday real soon, the Lord can begin rebuilding me into the person I am capable of becoming.
I'm really starting to like these two. I've always loved them because they are my babies, but I'm starting to like them forwho they are.As their personalities emerge more and more each day, I really like having them in my life.
Last night, we had a movie night. We spent the first 10 minutes convincing Kade that it is okay to have the lights off. He is obsessed with lights and insists that they are all on at all times. He is constantly pulling stools, boxes, buckets, dump trucks, whatever he can find to climb on and turn on the lights.
Anyway, a few minutes into the movie, Kade went and found a blanket and climbed up on the couch next to me. A few minutes later, he got down and came back with a pillow. He climbed up next to me, nestled into his pillow and we covered him with his giant blanket. A few minutes later, he got down and came back with salad tongs.
So random.
We snuggled through the rest of the movie with him leaning on his pillow, snuggled into his blanket, one arm around my neck, the other hand holding his salad tongs. When I tried to describe the situation to Greg, he said, "I guess you had to be there." Maybe. I just thought it was so funny.
At one point, I scratched my head, and then Kade scratched my head(all without taking his eyes off the movie). I just sat there and thought, "I sure do like you."
Spencer is in the stage: "If I can't see you, then you can't see me." It is so funny. When he's been a bit of a stinker, or if I'm calling him, or teasing him, I will often find him sitting on the couch with his hands over his eyes. Today, I found him on the floor of his bedroom, lying down, holding perfectly still, with his hands over his eyes. The other day, when he was supposed to be napping, I could hear that he was definitelyNOT sleeping. When I opened the door, I saw two little feet sticking out from under the bed. Again, the owner of those legs was statuesque, silent, and if you looked closelyenough, he was probably even holding his breath. I was supposed to be upset because he wasn't asleep, but I just shrugged and thought, "I really, really like you."
Last weekend I went on a 3-day getaway to gorgeous Southern California (it was 80 degrees every day - perfect and gorgeous and sunny and happy) with two incredible women. We ate well (the fit of my jeans proves that), relaxed, analyzed the meaning of life, sat in some serious LA traffic, and watched an extremely expensive chic flick. It was lovely.
On my way out of town, I packed my adorable purple carry-on that Melva gave me for my birthday last year. I pulled out the card in the front to fill out just in case I misplaced my luggage. The first few lines were pretty standard, but as I read the rest of the card, I literally laughed out loud. Hilarious:
A few thoughts:
#1: I don't think I've ever seen cell# and beeper# on the same sheet of paper. I thought the purpose of cell phones was to replace beepers?!?
#2: While I'm at it, I considered adding my mother's maiden name, my birthday, and my passport photo.
