Headed into a fog

I have not put away my broom from Halloween yet because I still need it on a daily basis.  It's about to get worse as tomorrow officially opens the start of hunting season--hunting for Christmas presents that is.  And not my own, although I need to do that as well.  The next month will virtually be a fog as it has been for the past two Novembers.  I try to remember to be thankful that people are buying our stuff.  We'll see how I'm feeling on the gratitude scale come about the last week of November when I stand in the garage late at night on the verge of tears wondering how we ever got into this mess.  It's sad but true.  Happens all the time.  On the bright side, we have some wholesale interest in our LDS book so it will be interesting to see where that lands next month.

Here's hoping for a good hunting season.  Oh and I do have a trophy to hang on the wall but it's a beautiful cloth handmade Santa wall hanging with old fashioned Christmas lights around the border made by our quiet book manufacturer.  I can't wait to find it a home.  I love that we have a built in factory so to speak.  I decided a few days ago that it would be fun to have a quiet book made for each of the kids featuring activities around their interests.  Spencer's will mostly highlight his latest passion of the Mon (monster) truck.  He goes around the house singing "Go on and drive that mon (monster) truck!" while moving enthusiastically to the beat.  If I do a mon truck book I'll be sure to let you know how I incorporated Grave Digger.

If I'm silent for a time, just know that I'm at a show stocking up on Bud's Corn Sauce--one of my favorite finds from last year's round of shows.  I must say that you meet and see some interesting folks in these circles.  Mostly interesting in a good kind of way but every now and again. . .

You win some and you lose some

I'm kind of a lazy mother some days.  I like to say things like "I SAID __________!  Now if you guys don't listen there's going to be trouble."  "Don't make me come over there."  And of course their actions beg me to rise off my keester and provide some enforcement--which I don't.  I spew forth all the verbiage that Love and Logic tells you will ruin you and your kids but I do it anyway--cause well, I'm lazy--some days more so than others.

Well, I've always thought the kids watch too much TV.  Now by TV I don't mean Judge Judy.  Generally we are dancing along with the Wiggles or practicing bath tub safety as directed by Barney or expanding our vocabulary with Word Girl but nevertheless the TV is transmitting power.  I think the TV is affecting the kids concentration levels as I can talk to Matthew and it's like talking to a zombie. 

So today I actually had a little more parenting energy and despite the death threats, I declared that the TV was going off this afternoon and we would play games.  In fairness to the kids, I really don't play with them that much.  If you count washing dishes or folding laundry as playing, then I do but most kids don't count that kind of stuff.  We brought the good old fashioned colored blocks to the surface.  I was amazed by what the kids conjured up.  Spencer built a horse pen for his tiny horse (like 1 1/2" horse).  The horse needed a blanket so he used his genius switch and pulled off the unused portion of Caroline's tissue for the horsey blankie.  He then got his own pillow and blanket and took a little snooze (unfortunately pretend) with his horse.

Matthew built a dragon, which I have to say I have never seen made out of blocks and was quite original.  He is on a How to Train Your Dragon kick so we eat, breathe, and sleep dragons right now.  How fortunate for me that I found a dragon costume at the Methodist church consignment sale last month for it will house the body of a little trick or treater tomorrow night.  Matthew is extremely imaginative and always has been, despite the TV, and this was reinforced by his creation today.  He is a master of 3D creations using paper and a roll of tape.  If I provided him the the amount of tape he requests, perhaps I wouldn't have the TV problem because we would have a totem pole erected in the front yard using construction paper and tape.  There isn't anything a roll of tape won't fix, just in case you're wondering.

After blocks, we boarded the minivan and went to the library where the kids headed straight to the DVDs--as usual.  After they selected every one that wasn't nailed down, I suggested they each pick one book.   I guess you can't win them all.

And sweet little Caroline only heard "Get her away.  She's wrecking my blocks." Say, who does (or doesn't do) your hair?

{And now for some random photos of fall}

The aforementioned dragon costume.  Please note Lady Gaga in the left of the photo.  Should I be scared that a kindergartener is dressed like that?  Note to self, direct Matthew to choose a different prom date.  Perhaps Little Bo Peep?   Snow White is already taken.

Engh Gardens

Dragon painting

Don't forget, curls make you crazy.

Double Life

I'm not sure this topic is even worthy of a blog post but that could probably be said about other posts I've written and it's been on my mind.

So this week I've been thinking about those who lead a secret double life.  Some double lives come in a respectable sort of way--like if you have to pretend you're a florist because you work for the CIA.  Others are brought on out of stupidity or bad lifestyle choices.  Such is the story of a co-worker who looks all gum drops and lollips but is a really baaaaad egg.  I am relieved that after almost four years of ethical obligations to remain mum about his misdeeds that I don't have to any more because they are now a matter of public record.  Whew!

So this is not so much about his story, although it is a riveting tale, as about me wondering how many people out there are doing the same types of things.  Hasn't everyone known of someone who has pulled off some bizarre lifestyle that no one ever suspected because they ate whole grain bread and were the president of the PTA?  Happens all the time.

I must confess that I lead somewhat of a double life--I say I want to lose weight but pack away the cake when no one is looking and we look like we are clean people but we really have a dirty toilet. . .but that's not going to land me in the clink, which is exactly where my "friend" should be.   So now I'm looking around my neighborhood saying "which one of these people is not what we think he/she is?"  It's a sick game but it's true.  I wonder who the next one to be "revealed" will be. 

And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about we've all known someone. . .

FHE Classic

Matthew was in charge tonight.  I couldn't have come up with anything better myself.

The boys played General Conference for FHE. 

We started with some "organ" music, moved to the prayer phase and then the talk.  The talk (delivered without notes or a teleprompter) started out making sense but by the end was moving in some random direction.  It was classic.  I only wish I had it on video tape.

Props include Step 2 slide, Sterlite plastic container and Wendy's kids meal microphone.  Only going to prove that the gospel really is basic.

Odd & Ends

In random news:

Today we launched.  Not into space.  We have been working on a new website since June 21.  It looks snazzy but we need to work out the kinks.  I was a little naive to think it wouldn't have any.  It apparently has some shopping cart issues, which is really you know, why we built the thing in the first place.  Hopefully they will be a quick fix.  The web world has been a new experience for me but kind of intriguing.  If I had more time, like alot more time with a cook, nanny, housekeeper and gardener, I might enjoy learning more but after all, I'm one soul without the aforementioned assets.

Last week the kids were off school and we took a trek to Lagoon.  The kids never seem to tire.  The older I get, the weaker my stomach becomes. There was a time in my life (back when I did my hair and was skinny) that I could ride anything and remain virtually unaffected.  My mom always sat out and I didn't get it.  Now I do although with small kids, I have to participate whether I think my stomach may hurl or not.  I think the merry-go-round has even gotten a little out of control.  I thought may lose my footing somewhere between the frog and the osterich.

On Saturday we visited This is the Place pioneer village while Corbin was busy at home pulling his back out laying pavers.  The pavers have been in the back yard since we moved in four years ago but who was I to stop him when he woke up on Saturday morning and proclaimed "I'm going out to do the pavers."  I was happy right up to the point when he announced that he pulled his back out and would be out of commission for a time.  He managed to emerge for dinner last night but otherwise has tried to keep it flat.  Hopefully it's not a long term issue. 

The little man is not so little any more.  Matthew turned 6 on September 21 but we are a little behind posting photos although we have made great strides in the photo department.  He hosted a Superhero party for friends.  Nothing is so exciting as a birthday when you're six.  It is so fun to watch him grow.  It's a perk of motherhood after doing diaper duty.  Thanks to my friend April for being on photo duty while I herded cats.

Notice that the best of friends and worst of enemies (that would be Matthew and Spencer) appear together in almost every shot.  The other day I saw Matthew get close to Spencer's head and say "I like your curly hair, Buddy."  And in reply Spencer offered up, "Thank you."  Love abounds no matter what.

What unsupervised Elmo bubble bath can do

When I was a kid, I loved the Brady Bunch.  I was kind of a Brady Bunch groupie.  Within the first ten seconds of an episode I could pretty much tell you which one it was going to be.  It was a wholesome pasttime.

In one episode one of the six children put way too many soap suds in the washer and when Alice went in the room the whole place was filled to the brim with suds.  I always kind of wondered how she cleaned it up. 

Well, now I know . . .

In keeping with my goal to preserve childhood, I took the kids on a bike ride and remained calm while they tromped through water puddles in their shoes.  Upon return, I thought it would be best to bathe them to rinse off those icky street germs.
 
The boys wanted to get in the master bathroom tub . . . and add bubble bath . . .and turn on the jets.
 
A lethal combination.  But SOOOO much fun.  So I'm told.  Bubbles speweth forward in all directions when I surveyed the damage.  I'm sure they were at least three feet high on the floor.  I did laugh--just for the record.  What else could you do when you see those little faces?
 
No good deed goes unpunished.

Photo Journalism Special: Spies and Underworld Superheros of Sandy, Utah

Rule one:  Disguise your tool kit as a .25 cent Bob the Builder backpack from a garage sale.  A low hanging diaper will also throw them off the trail.

 Rule 2: Stand up straight and look like you know where you are going.

 Rule 3: Don't show them you're strength until you have to.

 Rule 4: It doesn't matter if they are clean or dirty, don't let them see your face.  Oh, and always protect your shins.  (see photo #2)

 Rule 5: Without a tool kit held in very close proximity you are nothing.  And a  fork in the undies never hurt anyone no matter what your mother told you.

Rule 6:  Raise your hand if you're sure.  (now that one dates me)

We need better armor

This past weekend was General Conference for our church.  During General Conference we hear current messages from our leaders instructing us how to be happy, which of course, coincides with making good life choices.

I love General Conference weekends.  They are relaxing and it seems that one of us always falls asleep.  Of course the kids are in and out of the room and we are up and down tending to business but it's still a motivating experience.  This time the kids had a bingo card to cross off when they heard certain words which they were pretty jazzed up about that.  Matthew chose one talk (Pres. Eyring) to listen to the whole way through and much to my surprise, he stuck with it marking off this card as he went.  He was even able to regurgitate some the the addresses the next day.

As much as I love General Conference, it's a little uncomfortable too because it alerts me that I need to get off my keester and do more.  I need to be more spiritually in tune and work harder to have peace and harmony in our home.  During one of the conference talks, I looked over at the kitchen table where all three kids were coloring and/or climbing.  It struck me that I am their mother, they will grow fast, and I am responsible for the welfare, the total welfare, of these three little souls and someday I will miss this.  I snapped a photo which will win no awards but I wanted to memorialize exactly how my children looked at that moment in time.  

Since Matthew started school in August, I've been thinking more about how high the stakes really are.  He needs to be armed because he and all the others will fight a mighty battle the likes of which have never been fought in the history of the world.  Sometimes I think about the young Greek warriors who were trained to fight so young and how they considered it an honor but as a mother I think it is horrid.  But if I were a Greek mother, there is no way I would send a young son to battle without the best possible training in all the land.  Similarly, our children must have the best, most durable, armor in the form of spiritual strength that we can afford.  And for me I must afford more in the means of teaching time and energy.  I don't want to look back someday and wish I would have done more when they struggle, which will surely happen at some point in their lives.

I've discovered that bedtime is our prime teaching time.  The kids are more receptive to chatting and start to relax and unwind right after they wear themselves out from jumping on the bed and having a pillow fight.  They love to read stories from The Friend and it gives us a prime chance to discuss spiritual topics.  The other night we found ourselves knee deep in a story that I was frankly, a little uncomfortable with.  It was about a little boy at the playground who had friends who were trying to get him to look at pornography.  My sweet boys, thankfully, are clueless, which is exactly how I want it but it left me holding the bag as to how to explain what was happening in the story and why it's wrong.  Matthew then informed me that he would buy a gun, turn into a real live super hero and destroy the bad guys and the blow up the buildings where the bad people were.  A lofty and admirable goal to rid the world of evil, no doubt.  When I asked him what he would do if someone tried to show him a picture that wasn't nice he promptly informed me that he tell them he was a kung fu/karate master from one movie (thank you very much Kung Fu Panda).

So the next night we talked about baptisms for the dead, the resurrection, and accountability for children less than eight.  It kind of seems heavy duty but he's eating it up and he needs to learn while he's receptive.  Spence just takes it all in, as much as his little miniature body who still fits in some 18 month clothes can understand.

Some days this mom business is serious stuff.

I love Indian Summer

We're pretty much still doing our usual thing, so we might as well talk about the weather.

This is about as Indian as we can get.  It's still in the 80's and 90's and it's almost October 1!  What a great year for weather.  Although I like a good crisp chill, the older I get the more I can appreciate San Diego.

But, in other news, here is where my brain is currently :

This week my goal is to better appreciate my children--messes and all.  I was reading a blog that talked about preserving your child's childhood and not rushing and overcomplicating.  I suppose when you're committed to preserving childhood that it's easier to accept the messes generated by curiosity, wet shirts from riding through sprinklers and bedtime antics.   Oh, and I need to be nicer.  It seems like I hear this alot.  Somehow in the last eight years I got really mean and I yell alot.  I like to remind the offended that I am not yelling, I am just talking forcefully and if you want yelling, I'll show you yelling.  Perhaps that brings us back to the mean part.  Ahhhh, it's too bad we can't start out as grandparents.

In the way of firsts, Matthew lost his first tooth and Caroline is taking her first steps.  I love the firsts.

And this is what I've been doing for the last nine months

No, I have not been incubating an infant; however I think it may have been just as much work--maybe more.  There are so many situations in life where it's just best we don't really know what we're getting in for when we sign up.

I have this personality feature (we'll call it a "feature" even though others may disagree) of being impulsive, even complusive.  I make somewhat quick decisions and then can't rest until it's done.  It drives Corbin crazy sometimes.  My mom has it too, but it's best not to air our dirty laundry so I'll stop.

So with that intro, for over a year, I have had an itch (really more than an itch) to add an LDS themed book to our quiet book collection.  And I really wasn't going to be happy until I crossed it off my list.  I am also a procrastinator (gee, I'm just throwing out all the info today) so although I had it constructed it in my head, it took months to put thought to paper.  Bless Corbin's sister and niece who took my very scary stick figures and turned them into something of beauty.  So with most likely a little exaggeration, every waking minute of every day was spent pouring over the production details of this little gem.  We worked and reworked and then reworked and stressed some more.  Our manufacturer put in countless hours and was patient with my explanation as to why the man at the temple should not wear a red tie and how the boy being baptized needed to totally disappear under the water.  And then finally, one sunny day in August the final product arrived in all it's glory.  It even has a US copyright.  I feel so official.

Adding to the stress of the new book was preparation for the largest show we have ever done which is held in Midway, Utah every Labor Day weekend, called Swiss Days.  When I wasn't stressing over My LDS Quiet Book production, I was stressing over every last logistical detail for how to pull off a show for upwards of 100,000 people having never even set foot on the property before.  Hats off to event planners.  It's a tough and thankless job, no doubt.

Well, after having a week to decompress, I can sit back and say "we made it".  Swiss Days was a success and much to my delight, people loved the LDS quiet book.  We even had one lady who cried when she saw it and gave me a big hug.  That made every frustration worth it.  It makes me smile mostly because I actually DID something I said I was going to do.  I've said or wanted to do so many things in life and then get distracted or lazy and never follow through.  But, I DID. I actually followed through!  I'm not a slacker after all!  Ok, that's not a complete truth, I still have miles to go. 

I have had a huge support network and people cheering me on.  There is no way I would have been brave enough to try without repeated encouragement.  So, even if we never sell another one, at least I can rest in peace.

Despite the stress, this project was so fun to do.  I feel like each page is my child but here is a sneak peek at our favorites:

Spencer's fav because the boy "eats" the food.

My fav because of the colorful little house and the finger puppets inside

The boys love the missionary puzzle and I think the body/spirit glove is a kick.  In our basic quiet book the kids love the mitten so I thought why not use the body/spirit analogy that every kid in Primary is taught.

2011 will bring forth more projects from my little head and this time I'm more excited than scared.  In the midst of the chaos, we've been redesigning our logo and website and it makes it's debut next week.  Once again, the thrill is not in the site but actually following through on my threat to redo!

Bless my children's hearts.  They get me back now.

Do you ever have days like this?

Whoa! Is summer really almost over?

Today Spencer is six and a "hawf".  He has somehow managed to take over Matthew by three and a hawf years, but whatever works.  It's hard to believe that it's been three years since the little fellow came zipping into our lives.  His speedy delivery of 22 minutes after arriving at the hospital was only a foreshadowing of things to come.  The joy he has brought is immeasurable despite the few times he makes me want to scream "uncle" and wonder if perhaps a more patient mother shouldn't be working with him.   We made a Toy Story cake for him which we question the sanitary nature of but so far no one has gotten ill--to my knowledge.  Or at least they haven't called to report it.  Before the party, Spencer stood on a chair admiring the arrangement of Woody, Buzz Lightyear, Lotso and the like and started singing "Happy Birthday to me. . ."  It was darling beyond words.

Matthew is playing soccer again although he had a close brush with the death of his soccer career.  I forgot to sign him up in time.  Actually, I should clarify.  I postponed signing him up because technically I didn't forget I just kept putting it off and then when I got around to it I was told the teams were full. Luckily for him, the soccer powers that be elected to add one more team of which he now proudly wears the tangerine.  You can't miss him.  Land 'O Frost or some lunch meat company sponsors all these teams and they cut corners by making the head holes on the shirts barely large enough to fit Caroline.  There is no elastic and no give whatsoever and if I were Matthew I would have called it quits a long time ago but thankfully he has more drive than I do.

So the first game was on Saturday.  We planned to go but then all manner of mayhem broke loose in the  morning and the boys couldn't stop attacking each other and in a moment of frustration I proclaimed, "That's enough.  You're not going to the soccer game today."  And then I was stuck.  If I went back on my proclamation then it looked bad (although I go back all the time).  I think I was secretly looking for a way to get out of sitting in the 95 degree heat to watch the men in tangerine run to the wrong goal.  It was a cheap shot,  I admit.  Thankfully Corbin takes Love and Logic more serious than I do and proclaimed that if I said "no soccer" then I had to stick with it.  So today I called the coach with our apologies for having "something come up" in the late hour.  That's when I was informed that we would be having practice every Friday night at 5:30.  Ugh.  I really liked the last coach's attitude that there was no need to commit to practice for a pre-school team.  Perhaps when you move into the kindergarten league there's a whole new commitment level involved that I'm unprepared for.  I could see myself following that train of thought right through his entire educational career.  Why bother practicing. . . he's only a senior in high school?"  So perhaps it's good that I get whipped into shape now before I ruin his whole life.

We're not dead, just really tired

Last week I saw the mother of one of Matthew's preschool friends who asked, "Are you having a relaxing summer?"  No, no and no.  Fun, yes, but not what I describe as relaxing.  Relaxing would be me sitting alone in a cabana on a Maui beach getting a foot massage and drinking something other than Capri Sun--for the better part of a month.

We have been active in the almost 100 degree weather and it feels like summer, no doubt.  We do have some photographic documentation of our non-relaxing summer which I'll post as soon as I get a night to "relax". 

Overall though, I have to say that it's been everything summer should be.  It reminds me of my carefree summers as a child and makes me wonder how Laura Knarr ever withstood the number of wee folk wanting to swim who trickled into her house daily like a leaky faucet.  Bless her soul for my childhood memories of summer.  

The Man Who Beat the System

No doubt about it, my little Spencer is a piece of work.  And we love him for his endless energy, heightened sense of humor, and kicked back stroll.  I always say that the curly hair makes him crazy.  If he's not on the kitchen table then you can probably find him in water (sink or toilet will do), riding his bike after he's lifted both garage doors or smearing lotion all over the mirrors.  

He's also been in speech therapy for the last several months.  He's come a long way, baby, and I feel that he is in the sunset of his time in Early Intervention "services".  To be honest, I'm not really sure if the "services" have been the catalyst for his newly found skills or if we should just attribute them to older age.  Regardless, he's ready to move on.  To send him on his way, he is supposed to pass a standardized test administered by the school district powers that be.  I thought it would be pretty much a slam dunk and we'd ride off into the sunset with his eight word sentences.

Unfortunately, no such luck.  His therapist arrived last week armed with a testing arsenal.  His motor skills and cognitive skills were to be evaluated.  Motor skills are off the map.  He could peg someone in the eye with a dart from halfway across a football field.  Starting with the cognitive portion, she showed Spence a picture with four objects: a glass, a shoe, a bike, and something else which escapes me.  She proceeded to drill him in the manner of "Which one of these do you use to get a drink?"  His response: "the shoe".  "Which one do you ride?" "The shoe."

And so it went.

Next step:  take him to the school to try it again.  My dad took him in an attempt to see if he would act differently sans mother.  We geared up and sent him with a Bob the Builder book bag filled with goodies.  He even took his bike in the back of the van because he wanted to.  Arriving at the school the drill was attempted again.  "Which one of these do you use to get a drink?"  "The shoe". "Which one do you ride?" "The shoe."  And so it went--again.  Only when my dad asked at home, he did them perfectly.

The plan was to have his therapist draw up his release papers for me to sign.  That was the plan until I got a call from the therapist last week.  She spoke with her director.  In a nutshell I was told that the director didn't want to release him without pause because in her 25 years of doing whatever it is she does she has never had a child who refused testing.  Really. . . in 25 years?  You've never met a two year old who didn't want to give you an answer based on a standardized test picture?  She expressed some behavioral concerns. 

Really. . . our Spencer?  Being that she's never met him, I was not sold on her theory.  If he had poked the tester in the eye and threw her book across them room while stomping on the table, then maybe it would get my attention.  You know, the kind stuff he does at home but not in public.

He is a handful but I told the therapist I wasn't too concerned about exploring behavioral intervention.  I think the director was just bitter because he took her on the test and maintained a level of control that most two year olds don't possess.  I didn't want to come across as a parent in denial but secretly I was really proud that he was smart enough to figure out how to beat the system.  Don't worry if there was ever a true behavior or safety issue, I wouldn't bury my head in the sand.  But this time, I was in his corner.

Next step, have the therapist come back and shadow him for a few hours and see how he speaks and interacts.  I really can't wait to see what he'll pull out this time.

Please come, summer

At the risk of sounding like a downer, this past weekend was about as fun as having my tooth pulled. 

We still need parkas and umbrellas here.  The kids and their parents (one in particular--the other is happy to get out of lawn care) are going stir crazy.  The boys delighted in annoying each other, Miss Caroline belly scooted to chew on electrical cords and shoe soles and me, well, I'm just ready for sun and 80.  Degrees, that is.  Not age.  Although I feel 80 with my loss of hearing in the left ear but that's another story.

On Saturday, I was up for another Mother of the Year nomination and was about ready to lose my gourd.  Much whining and moaning abounded.  And that was just the kids.  They wanted to go outside but the yard was still a swamp and the dirt pile was a mud puddle and I wasn't up for the clean up.  Spencer refused to nap, a dilema we seem to be encountering more frequently, which only added to the chaos.

About 1:00 I started calling for back up in the form of a small neighbor child to give my kids another outlet.  Thankfully a little neighbor child agreed to engage the likes of Spencer and Matthew.  Matthew told me the other week that this particular girl wanted to marry him.  He knew because she sat by him in music class and in Primary.  When I suggested that perhaps she just wanted to be friends he refuted and stated he knew otherwise.  When I asked him how he felt about that, he said it would be fine because they were born at the same time (about three weeks apart) and we all know it is important to marry someone your own age.  Just ask Hollywood. 

Yesterday was a little better.  The kids have coughs and I didn't think that Nursery would want the likes of our germs so we stayed home.  I decided that while I was at it I might as well stay in my nightgown until 6:00 pm so that's exactly what I did.  I did play trains with the boys and managed to make a decent dinner so I got some points there.

About 7:00 we needed some fresh air so I hoisted Caroline into the hip hammock which she enjoyed about as much as flying to the moon.  Despite her protests, we forged on, that is until we made it to the driveway with two bikes and it began to rain.  So much for a little exercise.  So we grabbed the van keys and took a drive up around the Draper temple.  The redeeming part of the day, which gave us all new hope, was a beautiful full rainbow arching over the mountains.  There are few things more beautiful than a rainbow and thus, we were renewed and today looks better.

On the drive home, I had "the mini van conversation" again with Matthew.  It goes something like this:

Matthew:  Is this a mini van?
Me: Yes.
Matthew: Why don't we have a full size van?
Me: Because a mini van works better for us and we don't need a full size van.
Matthew: How many people does a full size van seat?
Me: About 12.
Matthew:  I really wish we had a full size van.
Me: I know but we'll just stick with the mini van.
Matthew: How big is a full size van?
Me:  Bigger than our van; it has more seats behind.
Matthew: Is it twice as big?
Me:  Probably.  Well, not quite twice as big, but it has more seats behind and the extended van is even longer.
Matthew:  How many people does the extended van seat?
Me: About 15.
Matthew:  I wish we had a full size van.  How many people does it seat?
Me: 12
Matthew: I wish we had one.
Me: I know.
(Repeat conversation about 3 times per trip)

And so goes our time in the mini van.  Not the full size van.

It was ok a long time ago but not anymore

So I have a confession.  It's one the Primary would not look favorably upon but I have it nevertheless.  Here it is:  I have a really hard time teaching scripture stories to my kids.  In fact, I'd go so far as to say I've displayed signs of avoidance.  It's not that I don't want them to learn the gospel or because I'm lazy (although you could definitely make a believable argument there if you wanted). 

I've been blessed with an eldest child who is a thinker, who really wants to grasp life, and who's been in a "good guy/bad guy" phase for most of his life. (It's my fault it started as early as it did because in an attempt to be a vigilant parent I told him about kidnappers WAY too early and scared the dickens out of him for life.)  I also have a child who as much as he loves his brother, can turn on a dime if the brother wrecks his track, which is why when we put in the first Bible DVD and the story was Cain killing Abel I popped it out faster than I can run for chocolate.

So yes, I dont' like teaching scripture stories because I have a really hard time explaining when it's all right to cut off your opponents head in the Bible but not kick your brother.  When I do venture into scripture land it's usually with sanitation and ultra caution.  Last night though, in a weak moment I let one slip.  We were telling the story of David and Goliath.  I was reading the story from a paper while the kids gleefully put together a paper puzzle of Goliath and played with a little David cut out complete with stone bag.  All was going as planned until I got to the last part when I inadvertently proclaimed that David cut off Goliath's head. 

"HE CUT OFF HIS HEAD???"

I was stuck like a deer in the headlights.  I wished I could take back the last five seconds but it was too late.  The words lingered like bad smog.  Then I launched a discussion that I prayed made some sort of sense to a five year old trying to grasp right and wrong.   

I wish I knew how to better handle these sorts of discussions and how to incorporate the scriptures without making them sound hypocritical to everything else we are trying to teach them.  If you have any great insight, please share, because this one leaves me baffled by the battles and really the last thing I want is scripture reenactments from the two boys who get wild anyway.

Mr. Matthew

Our almost preschool graduate. He's a little bundle of wonder and problem solving. He informed me that he wouldn't be needing the word cards I put around the house because Ms. Jeri already taught him to read. My hunch is that he may need to explore language a little deeper but we'll worry about that later. For now it's summer and he'a all about a good time.

Spring soccer concluded last night.  We're proud of his hustle and willingness to work hard.  He scored one goal this season and was a little discouraged but in fairness to him he kind of got stuck on a "loser"  kind of team.  Poor thing.  It seemed like every team they played scored 20-1.  Not that it's important at this stage or age and we certainly don't want to focus on winning but for the sake of the team's dignity it would have been nice to at least be in the running.  I think with some training Matthew could get really good.  He is very determined and gives it his all.  In a sorry turn of events he tripped getting out of the car and broke his little trophy.  I almost started crying for him.  We'll get it glued back together.

Creativity continues to rank off the charts. I only wish I could record all of his "shows" and stage presentations. Funny thing is he hates to do them for a crowd. We're hoping that he makes it to the stage for his preschool program. So far all systems go. The teacher was kind enough to place him beside one of his best friends so hopefully that encourages him to go on the stage. If only they could see his performaces in the privacy of his dwelling. We were proud of his participation in his year end music program yesterday. Right before we left, on his own accord, he donned a cowboy uniform for the show. He ended up ditching it when he realized none of the other kids were in costumes but I love his gusto.  He is not afraid to be his own person we we sure love the person he is.  He's still my cuddler and I hope that lasts for a while longer.

Tiny Man

He's on the move. Nothing has changed there. Oh, he does obey slightly better when he's running away. Fast, nimble, coordinated. We're hoping he finds a professional midget league to support us in our old age. Maybe another little Stockton? We can only hope.

He's a talker now!!! Spencer's speech is coming along. We can understand about 75% of what he is saying. It's so nice to hear him communicate and get a response that he wants rather than "huh??" I think he'll get kicked out of speech therapy in the next few weeks. I can think of worse things to get kicked out of.