I am planning to write a lengthy explanation of why my dad is a great dad. But I don't have time tonight and I am going out of town in the morning. So, this blentry is a little personal reminder to do that next week.
I will say this: I have often made choices based on the fact that I don't want to disappoint my dad. I count it as among the greatest blessings in my life that I have a dad I worth not disappointing.
And I would also write a lengthy explanation of why my sweet husband is a great dad. But I don't have time...
I will say this: Nothing makes me happier than watching Chris enjoy being with the kids. They so love him and love his attention. He spent a lot of this weekend playing with them and they have been in heaven.
Well, we're off to Yellowstone. Here's hoping this year is the one we meet a wolf. From a safe distance.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
School
Well, it should be summer vacation. Unfortunately, I was a little less than productive during the school year. We have much to do. It is time for some serious schooling before we go to England. I think I will give a description of the attitudes I have to deal with everyday.
Ammon: Ammon loves to learn. He wants to do more and more school everyday. He is a good reader and gets his math and enjoys science most of all. However, Ammon needs me. I have to sit next to him and prompt him. "Do the next one, Ammon." "Remember we're doing math right now." "You wrote one spelling word. Write another one." etc. He is fun to teach because he loves to learn. But he is draining because he needs me so much.
Sarah: Sarah is self-motivated. She comes up to the table and tackles whatever is in front of her. I explain what to do and she gets it done. She is easy to teach. She is having difficulty learning to read, but we are working hard on that. The difficult thing about Sarah is her surprise mood changes. She'll suddenly announce she is done with school. And when she is done, she is done. It takes a lot of effort and energy to pull her back in. If she doesn't want to be here, she will yell and pout. Luckily, she doesn't get in that mood very often.
Nathan: Nathan has recently become interested in school. He is in preschool and I have no official curriculum for him. I just have some little workbooks. He refuses instruction. He just does what he wants to do. He is beyond self-motivated. Today he was working on number pages. He was to practice writing numbers and then circle groups of that number. He was counting so loudly and he was so oblivious to the other kids trying to study, it was hilarious. Sarah finally got dramatically frustrated and refused to do her own math because Nathan was so loud. I asked him to count in his brain. He hit his head with his pencil and began counting silently, but still dramatically and hilariously. He did it those pages all right and was so proud of himself. I can see that my main challenge with him will be to get him to do things the way he's instructed instead of just doing it his own way. If any of you know my husband very well, you will see yet another way Nathan is mini-Chris.
Elisabeth: Bethie is 2. She will participate in saying the pledge, checking the weather, reading stories, and reciting verses of scripture. She likes to sit up at the table to draw while the kids are working. She is not demanding of my time and lets me take care of the other children's needs.
I love all these crazy kids and their different ways of making my school day enjoyable. I love teaching them at home because it helps me to get to know them so well. There are times when I wish they would go away to school so that I could get some housework done and not be held responsible for their lack of education. But today is not one of those days. Even though we are behind in finishing our school year, they are learning and progressing.
Ammon: Ammon loves to learn. He wants to do more and more school everyday. He is a good reader and gets his math and enjoys science most of all. However, Ammon needs me. I have to sit next to him and prompt him. "Do the next one, Ammon." "Remember we're doing math right now." "You wrote one spelling word. Write another one." etc. He is fun to teach because he loves to learn. But he is draining because he needs me so much.
Sarah: Sarah is self-motivated. She comes up to the table and tackles whatever is in front of her. I explain what to do and she gets it done. She is easy to teach. She is having difficulty learning to read, but we are working hard on that. The difficult thing about Sarah is her surprise mood changes. She'll suddenly announce she is done with school. And when she is done, she is done. It takes a lot of effort and energy to pull her back in. If she doesn't want to be here, she will yell and pout. Luckily, she doesn't get in that mood very often.
Nathan: Nathan has recently become interested in school. He is in preschool and I have no official curriculum for him. I just have some little workbooks. He refuses instruction. He just does what he wants to do. He is beyond self-motivated. Today he was working on number pages. He was to practice writing numbers and then circle groups of that number. He was counting so loudly and he was so oblivious to the other kids trying to study, it was hilarious. Sarah finally got dramatically frustrated and refused to do her own math because Nathan was so loud. I asked him to count in his brain. He hit his head with his pencil and began counting silently, but still dramatically and hilariously. He did it those pages all right and was so proud of himself. I can see that my main challenge with him will be to get him to do things the way he's instructed instead of just doing it his own way. If any of you know my husband very well, you will see yet another way Nathan is mini-Chris.
Elisabeth: Bethie is 2. She will participate in saying the pledge, checking the weather, reading stories, and reciting verses of scripture. She likes to sit up at the table to draw while the kids are working. She is not demanding of my time and lets me take care of the other children's needs.
I love all these crazy kids and their different ways of making my school day enjoyable. I love teaching them at home because it helps me to get to know them so well. There are times when I wish they would go away to school so that I could get some housework done and not be held responsible for their lack of education. But today is not one of those days. Even though we are behind in finishing our school year, they are learning and progressing.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Parents say the darnedest things...
My parents are serving a full-time proselyting (or is it proselytizing?) mission in the Utah Salt Lake South mission. They live at home (with us) while they serve. They cover two stakes and have a LOT to do! They have spoken in 4 sacrament meetings in the last two weeks.
This morning, Dad woke up and said with alarm, "I spent so much time preparing my talk for the 7th ward, I totally forgot to prepare anything for the 8th ward!"
"Just throw a bunch of scriptures at them and perfuncticate, like you normally do," replied Mom comfortingly.
I think Mom was still a little asleep, as what she said was neither comforting nor that polite, not to mention the fact that she was making up words. She insists she meant "pontificate," which doesn't make anyone feel any better. Just to be clear, let's define the words she used (or meant to use, or tried to use):
pontificate: "to speak in a pompous or dogmatic manner"
perfunctory: "performed merely as a routine duty; hasty and superficial" Also: "lacking interest, care, or enthusiasm; indifferent or apathetic"
As Mom said, "They haven't quite caught up to me by making 'perfuncticate' an actual word."
After hearing the official definitions, Dad said, "That's it. I'm staying home today."
This morning, Dad woke up and said with alarm, "I spent so much time preparing my talk for the 7th ward, I totally forgot to prepare anything for the 8th ward!"
"Just throw a bunch of scriptures at them and perfuncticate, like you normally do," replied Mom comfortingly.
I think Mom was still a little asleep, as what she said was neither comforting nor that polite, not to mention the fact that she was making up words. She insists she meant "pontificate," which doesn't make anyone feel any better. Just to be clear, let's define the words she used (or meant to use, or tried to use):
pontificate: "to speak in a pompous or dogmatic manner"
perfunctory: "performed merely as a routine duty; hasty and superficial" Also: "lacking interest, care, or enthusiasm; indifferent or apathetic"
As Mom said, "They haven't quite caught up to me by making 'perfuncticate' an actual word."
After hearing the official definitions, Dad said, "That's it. I'm staying home today."
Growing up
Ammon had his first sleepover last night. Can you believe he's old enough to have a sleepover? I can't. My mom informed me that it was not his first actual sleepover. Afterall, he slept at her house following the births of his brother and sisters. Yes, but Grandma's is not the same as Keenan's. Ammon did fine. He did not get enough sleep, but he was perfectly comfortable and had fun. It helps that he likes Keenan's parents as much as he likes Keenan. It's a great place for him to be.
He came home this morning and rode his bike all day. That may seem like it's no big deal. He is 8. Eight-year-olds ride their bikes all the time. But keep in mind that we've never had a place to ride bikes. Our parking lot at our old house just didn't invite young children to ride around. And Ammon's bike has had flat tires for about 3 years. Yesterday, Chris cleaned up Ammon's bike and fixed the tires. So Ammon got on his bike this morninig--with no help from training wheels or a parent running behind--and rode it. I said, "How did you do that? Where did you learn to ride a bike?" He said, "One day I tried to ride Trevor's bike. Lisa told me, 'When the bike leans to the left, you lean to the right.' And Riley showed me how to get started." That's it? They TOLD you how to ride a bike and so you thought you'd try it today? Yes, yes, that is what happened.
He came home this morning and rode his bike all day. That may seem like it's no big deal. He is 8. Eight-year-olds ride their bikes all the time. But keep in mind that we've never had a place to ride bikes. Our parking lot at our old house just didn't invite young children to ride around. And Ammon's bike has had flat tires for about 3 years. Yesterday, Chris cleaned up Ammon's bike and fixed the tires. So Ammon got on his bike this morninig--with no help from training wheels or a parent running behind--and rode it. I said, "How did you do that? Where did you learn to ride a bike?" He said, "One day I tried to ride Trevor's bike. Lisa told me, 'When the bike leans to the left, you lean to the right.' And Riley showed me how to get started." That's it? They TOLD you how to ride a bike and so you thought you'd try it today? Yes, yes, that is what happened.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
What?!
This was a great conversation:
Sarah: What is Keenan's dad's name?
Me: Whit.
Sarah: What?
Me: Whit. But you should probably call him Brother Reid. It's more respectful.
Nathan: I'm going to call him Kent.
Me: Kent? But his name is Whit.
Nathan: Yeah, but I like to call him Kent.
Sarah: What is Keenan's dad's name?
Me: Whit.
Sarah: What?
Me: Whit. But you should probably call him Brother Reid. It's more respectful.
Nathan: I'm going to call him Kent.
Me: Kent? But his name is Whit.
Nathan: Yeah, but I like to call him Kent.
Monday, June 8, 2009
I'm a good mom, right?
I try to keep an eye on my kids. I know some people find me overprotective. So when I make big mistakes, it is shocking to me. So, here's the story:
We live at my mom's, as you may know. Sometimes my sisters come over. They also have kids. The cousins play so nicely together. It is one of the greatest things in my life. Well, last Tuesday, Rachel and Brynn were over. That means there were 13 children playing in the yard. The oldest one is Ammon, who is 8. Usually, when the little children go outside, the moms (I'm one of the moms) say something like, "Sarah (a "big" kid), keep an eye on Beth (a little one)." Or Rachel will say, "Emma, Ryan's outside. You're in charge of him." But on Tuesday, there were so many children and so much going on, that I guess we forgot to say that.
We were having a pleasant grown-up conversation, when suddenly, Josh (Rachel's husband) said, "I'm going to go check on Ryan." And he ran out of the house. Ryan and Beth, who are both 2, were not in the backyard. They were not in the front yard. They were not in the side yard. They were not on the sidewalk. They were not in the street. Josh finally found them down at the neighborhood park holding hands and picking flowers.
The image of them holding hands and picking flowers is pretty cute, you have to admit. But then you think about two 2-year-olds crossing the street by themselves and hanging out in a city park by themselves and you have to think: WHAT KIND OF A MOM ARE YOU?!
And then I answer your question: Thanks to Josh nothing bad happened to my child (or his), and so I'm going to go ahead and still call myself a good mom.
We live at my mom's, as you may know. Sometimes my sisters come over. They also have kids. The cousins play so nicely together. It is one of the greatest things in my life. Well, last Tuesday, Rachel and Brynn were over. That means there were 13 children playing in the yard. The oldest one is Ammon, who is 8. Usually, when the little children go outside, the moms (I'm one of the moms) say something like, "Sarah (a "big" kid), keep an eye on Beth (a little one)." Or Rachel will say, "Emma, Ryan's outside. You're in charge of him." But on Tuesday, there were so many children and so much going on, that I guess we forgot to say that.
We were having a pleasant grown-up conversation, when suddenly, Josh (Rachel's husband) said, "I'm going to go check on Ryan." And he ran out of the house. Ryan and Beth, who are both 2, were not in the backyard. They were not in the front yard. They were not in the side yard. They were not on the sidewalk. They were not in the street. Josh finally found them down at the neighborhood park holding hands and picking flowers.
The image of them holding hands and picking flowers is pretty cute, you have to admit. But then you think about two 2-year-olds crossing the street by themselves and hanging out in a city park by themselves and you have to think: WHAT KIND OF A MOM ARE YOU?!
And then I answer your question: Thanks to Josh nothing bad happened to my child (or his), and so I'm going to go ahead and still call myself a good mom.
Our First Date
Well, during my time not blogging, Chris and I passed the 10th annivesary of our first date. I think we should reminisce about that now.
As you will recall, if you have been reading and retaining all my blentries for many months, Chris and I met in March of 1999. He did not call me for some time. Even though he claims he knew he was going to marry me. Our mutual friend, Scott, had asked my permission to give Chris my number. So I knew he had a level of interest. Well, one fine day in May, I finally got a phone call from Chris Woods. He thought I might not remember him. I did. And I couldn't stop smiling about it. He asked me out for a group date for that Friday. May 21, 1999.
He picked me up in his roommate's car because he didn't have one of his own. He did have a push bike. (That's what they call bicycles in Australia.) We drove back to his apartment where he and his roommates were preparing tin-foil dinners. We went with two other couples to Spanish Fork Canyon. We had a campfire and cooked our dinners and ate and then Chris pulled out his guitar. He proceeded to woo me with his voice. At that time, Chris didn't like to sing other people's music. So he only sang ones he had written. (Note to all budding musicians: Chris' musicianship has improved significantly since he started learning other people's songs, too.) But when I told him I like U2, he picked out some With or Without You.
It was so much fun. I felt so comfortable with Chris and then he held my hand on the way down the mountain. He will claim that this was my idea. Um, he may be right.
The next day, Chris called me and invited me to go out again. This second date was a little awkward. Wait, wait, let me explain. There were a bunch of girls in Chris' ward who had invited a bunch of boys in the ward to go on a group outing--not a paired-off date--for a picnic and BYU dance. Chris called the girls and asked if I could come along. I think the girls thought that was weird. It is weird, but hey! It's Chris. So I helped these strange girls prepare the picnic. Then I ate with all these people. Then the girls (who were all about 19 or 20 years old) said we should blindfold the boys and take them on long round-about drives so they wouldn't know we were going to the Wilkinson Center for a BYU dance. I was so much more mature, being 25. I thought that sounded stupid. But I was a good sport.
We had much fun dancing and we were about halfway through the evening when I knew with full confidence that Chris and I would be married. I often think I loved him before I knew him. When it's right, you just know. And I have never doubted that. From then on, it was just a matter of timing. We were dating just one week when I took Chris with me to a work party. My co-workers told me we acted like we had been together for months! (Which, in Provo-speak is VERY LONG!) We were so meant to be.
I'll get to the engagement story in a couple of weeks. Look forward to that. That is, if I remember to do it. Believe it or not, I have a photo from our first date.
And then for our 3rd date, Chris took me to see Star Wars Episode 1. I, of course, had already seen it because it had been out since May 19. (Which was 2 days before our first date. See above.) And that is the date he kissed me. (The Star Wars date. Our third date.) Chris hadn't kissed anyone for 7 1/2 years. So it was a pretty big deal. I hadn't kissed anyone for nearly 4 weeks. So, um, I shouldn't admit that.
I knew we were going to be married, but some things happened to confirm my choice. Chris gave me some of his cds that he thought I would enjoy. They were all 80s music, European, and alternative. But the thing that impressed me is that they were alphabetized! And then he told me that he hung all of his shirts facing the same direction. I mean, honestly, are we a match made in heaven? (Your line here is: Yes!)
Everyone needs a smart friend.
I hope this post doesn't embarrass anyone. If my friend doesn't like this post, I will delete it. Because I don't want to be put on friend probation.
I have a friend. My friend is a smart friend. I think he knows everything. That is one of my theories in this life: Neal knows everything. I don't mean that he knows EVERYTHING, I mean that he knows the answer to everything I might be smart enough to think of asking. And then some.
He knows how to cook from scratch. He can crack two eggs with one hand. He knows what kinds of flowers are edible. One time he made a salad with lilies in it. I think they were lilies. At any rate, they were edible flowers. Who knew a salad could be so pretty? Neal taught me how to give myself a manicure. He knows boy things, too. (Note: Neal is NOT gay. Just like Jacob.) He can change the oil. He can fix any computer problem. He knows how to pick out a good camera. He can do all the scout-type skills when we go camping. He can get a splinter out of his little daughter's finger with a pocket knife. He can help us move and fit more of our stuff in the back of his truck than seems humanly possible because his brain is so organized. Neal can quote tv shows and movies and other pop-culture trivia with the best of them. If I need help finding good books to help my kids learn the joy of reading, Neal knows just what to recommend. Technically, he is a biologist (or is it a botanist?), but honestly, he knows all about everything.
One time, I was in California at a park. I was showing my sister-in-law some of the fun pictures I had taken of her new baby while on vacation. And then I accidentally deleted ALL of the photos on my camera. My digital camera that Neal picked out and said it was a good one and I just believed him because Neal knows everything. My first thought while sitting in that park was, "Neal can fix that." But then I thought I would give it a try. I don't have to be so helpless all the time. Um, I shouldn't have tried. I almost ruined the whole darn thing. Neal knew exactly how to fix it, once I gave up and asked him. He e-mailed me directions. (He lives far, far away on Nebraska's plains.) I couldn't get the directions to work. So my smart brother, Jacob, followed Neal's directions and fixed my camera and saved my photos of my cute new nephew, Jack.
And then we were playing this game on Facebook. We had to open the book closest to us and turn to a certain page and write the 5th sentence on the page, or something like that. My brother, Michael, quoted from a textbook. It was a Linear Algebra textbook. And Neal commented back by saying, "Anton and Rorres, if I'm not mistaken." WHAT? He knew what textbook Michael was quoting! How can that be? It wasn't even a biology book; it was linear algebra. I said that this just goes to prove my theory: Neal knows everything.
Well, we moved recently. As you might know. It was a confusing move because we were throwing away almost everything. And putting almost everything else into storage. And moving just a few things to my mom's. But those things are divided into things to go to England and things to use temporarily at Mom's. As organized as I think I am, something was bound to go wrong. Well, something did. We lost 2 flash drives. Maybe they are called thumb drives. I don't know. Neal probably knows. But you all know what I mean. Those little things that hold amazing amounts of information and you store stuff on them that you don't have room for on your hard drive. We lost 2 of them. I don't mean we lost the information on them; I mean we lost them. This was stuff I needed and wanted. The flash drives were gone. I didn't know what to do. But then I did know what to do. Neal can fix this, I told myself. Neal knows everything. I told Jacob (my brother) about my situation and asked if he thought Neal could fix it. He laughed and said, "Probably."
Then my sister, Rachel, came over to visit. I sat her down at my computer to show her the new family photos we had taken. When I pulled out the desk drawer, Rachel leaned over and picked up a flash drive. I said, "Where did that come from?" Apparently, it was stuck in the runners of the drawer. And then Rachel pulled out the drawer and found the other one! The flash drives are saved! I didn't have to bug Neal! And I have decided that it is possible that Rachel is smarter than Neal. So, for the next family party, I am expecting an edible lily salad and some linear algebra quotes, Rachel. Good luck with that new title. And Neal, the pressure is off. I have another smart friend.
I have a friend. My friend is a smart friend. I think he knows everything. That is one of my theories in this life: Neal knows everything. I don't mean that he knows EVERYTHING, I mean that he knows the answer to everything I might be smart enough to think of asking. And then some.
He knows how to cook from scratch. He can crack two eggs with one hand. He knows what kinds of flowers are edible. One time he made a salad with lilies in it. I think they were lilies. At any rate, they were edible flowers. Who knew a salad could be so pretty? Neal taught me how to give myself a manicure. He knows boy things, too. (Note: Neal is NOT gay. Just like Jacob.) He can change the oil. He can fix any computer problem. He knows how to pick out a good camera. He can do all the scout-type skills when we go camping. He can get a splinter out of his little daughter's finger with a pocket knife. He can help us move and fit more of our stuff in the back of his truck than seems humanly possible because his brain is so organized. Neal can quote tv shows and movies and other pop-culture trivia with the best of them. If I need help finding good books to help my kids learn the joy of reading, Neal knows just what to recommend. Technically, he is a biologist (or is it a botanist?), but honestly, he knows all about everything.
One time, I was in California at a park. I was showing my sister-in-law some of the fun pictures I had taken of her new baby while on vacation. And then I accidentally deleted ALL of the photos on my camera. My digital camera that Neal picked out and said it was a good one and I just believed him because Neal knows everything. My first thought while sitting in that park was, "Neal can fix that." But then I thought I would give it a try. I don't have to be so helpless all the time. Um, I shouldn't have tried. I almost ruined the whole darn thing. Neal knew exactly how to fix it, once I gave up and asked him. He e-mailed me directions. (He lives far, far away on Nebraska's plains.) I couldn't get the directions to work. So my smart brother, Jacob, followed Neal's directions and fixed my camera and saved my photos of my cute new nephew, Jack.
And then we were playing this game on Facebook. We had to open the book closest to us and turn to a certain page and write the 5th sentence on the page, or something like that. My brother, Michael, quoted from a textbook. It was a Linear Algebra textbook. And Neal commented back by saying, "Anton and Rorres, if I'm not mistaken." WHAT? He knew what textbook Michael was quoting! How can that be? It wasn't even a biology book; it was linear algebra. I said that this just goes to prove my theory: Neal knows everything.
Well, we moved recently. As you might know. It was a confusing move because we were throwing away almost everything. And putting almost everything else into storage. And moving just a few things to my mom's. But those things are divided into things to go to England and things to use temporarily at Mom's. As organized as I think I am, something was bound to go wrong. Well, something did. We lost 2 flash drives. Maybe they are called thumb drives. I don't know. Neal probably knows. But you all know what I mean. Those little things that hold amazing amounts of information and you store stuff on them that you don't have room for on your hard drive. We lost 2 of them. I don't mean we lost the information on them; I mean we lost them. This was stuff I needed and wanted. The flash drives were gone. I didn't know what to do. But then I did know what to do. Neal can fix this, I told myself. Neal knows everything. I told Jacob (my brother) about my situation and asked if he thought Neal could fix it. He laughed and said, "Probably."
Then my sister, Rachel, came over to visit. I sat her down at my computer to show her the new family photos we had taken. When I pulled out the desk drawer, Rachel leaned over and picked up a flash drive. I said, "Where did that come from?" Apparently, it was stuck in the runners of the drawer. And then Rachel pulled out the drawer and found the other one! The flash drives are saved! I didn't have to bug Neal! And I have decided that it is possible that Rachel is smarter than Neal. So, for the next family party, I am expecting an edible lily salad and some linear algebra quotes, Rachel. Good luck with that new title. And Neal, the pressure is off. I have another smart friend.
Our new (old) home
We recently moved. This is our pre-move as we prepare for our real move. We are going to England for grad school in October. (Yes, I know of one reader of my blog who does not know that.) So, we need to sell our house to prove we have money so we can get a visa so Chris can go to school so we can move on with life. In the meantime, we need somewhere to live. We thought we'd go to an apartment, but my parents offered (yes, they OFFERED) to let us stay in their home. We could not resist the draw of the basement. This is the 25th time in my short life that I have officially changed my place of residence. And 7 of those moves have been back to the basement! (Well, just 6. One was when we moved here in the first place when I was 4 and back then, I got to sleep upstairs. Oh, and when I moved here after my mission, Brynn had commandeered my room and I slept upstairs.)
Now that we are pretty well settled in, I feel it is time to be honest. I really like living here. The kids have so much freedom. There is enough room in the house that we are not all in the same space all day long. There is a big backyard for unsupervised play. (That gives kids freedom. I still am close enough to know they're safe and behaving.) There is a park just down the street. (That is for supervised play.) And best of all, there is a sidewalk out front. A SIDEWALK!!!! In the past, all we've had is a parking lot. The kids can ride bikes and scooters within a somewhat confined space and I can sit on the porch reading. I can even stay inside doing laundry and look out every few minutes knowing they are safe. (Yeah right. Like I am going to stay inside doing laundry if I could be outside reading. But the point is that I COULD BE doing that.)
On top of all the kid-friendly freedoms we are enjoying, my mom's house is organized. It is peaceful. The house invites the spirit. Obviously, that is because of the owners of the house. I am a better housekeeper in this house because I am trying to respect my mom's things and because even little things out of place seem like a big deal in so much order. The day starts earlier and I am finding it easier to get out of bed and get school started. I am confident that I will achieve many things this summer.
I try not to enjoy living here so much because we are invading someone else's space. I should feel a little guilt. But there are so many windows letting in sunshine, there is no guilt to be had. Plus there are kids in the neighborhood who actually WANT to play with my kids!!! And the cousins come over and I like the neighbors and it is the only ward where I feel completely at home. Best of all, I really like my parents. I like being around them. I like talking to them and feeding off their energy for life. I hope I don't drain them of all their energy while we are here. But, the good news is that we are leaving! For England! In just a couple months! Enjoy us while you can!!!
Now that we are pretty well settled in, I feel it is time to be honest. I really like living here. The kids have so much freedom. There is enough room in the house that we are not all in the same space all day long. There is a big backyard for unsupervised play. (That gives kids freedom. I still am close enough to know they're safe and behaving.) There is a park just down the street. (That is for supervised play.) And best of all, there is a sidewalk out front. A SIDEWALK!!!! In the past, all we've had is a parking lot. The kids can ride bikes and scooters within a somewhat confined space and I can sit on the porch reading. I can even stay inside doing laundry and look out every few minutes knowing they are safe. (Yeah right. Like I am going to stay inside doing laundry if I could be outside reading. But the point is that I COULD BE doing that.)
On top of all the kid-friendly freedoms we are enjoying, my mom's house is organized. It is peaceful. The house invites the spirit. Obviously, that is because of the owners of the house. I am a better housekeeper in this house because I am trying to respect my mom's things and because even little things out of place seem like a big deal in so much order. The day starts earlier and I am finding it easier to get out of bed and get school started. I am confident that I will achieve many things this summer.
I try not to enjoy living here so much because we are invading someone else's space. I should feel a little guilt. But there are so many windows letting in sunshine, there is no guilt to be had. Plus there are kids in the neighborhood who actually WANT to play with my kids!!! And the cousins come over and I like the neighbors and it is the only ward where I feel completely at home. Best of all, I really like my parents. I like being around them. I like talking to them and feeding off their energy for life. I hope I don't drain them of all their energy while we are here. But, the good news is that we are leaving! For England! In just a couple months! Enjoy us while you can!!!
Nathan is 5!
Can you believe little Nathan is 5? I remember when I turned 5. That means Nathan is old enough to remember himself when he is old(er). Anyway, Nathan's birthday was fun. Chris works odd hours, so I decided we would have a breakfast birthday party. Nathan chose French toast with powdered sugar (for Nathan--mostly straight sugar) for his breakfast meal. We opened presents in the morning. Nathan ripped through the presents. He was sincerely delighted by everyone of them, but too excited for the next one to pause for thank yous. His favorite, by far, is his bike. He can't wait to take it out every morning and would ride it all day long if I wasn't so mean to make him come in for meals and bathroom breaks. :) After breakfast, I kind of spontaneously decided to take the kids to the zoo. I love the zoo. Therefore, my children must love the zoo. We had to hurry so we could get home for the party. Nathan had a couple of cousins over for a jolly cake-eating time. And then in the evening we went to another party, but that was not for Nathan. It was a full day. Enjoy the photos. By the way, that's Bumblebee, the Transformer on Nathan's cake. Trust me. That's what it is.
Back to the blog
I have been busy. Busy moving. Busy cleaning. Busy facebooking. Yes, I admit it. I have written blentries in my head, but I have not typed them. But the time has come. I know you have all severely missed me and my ramblings. Well, I am back.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Preach nothing but repentance...
Last night, after our family scriptures and prayer, I reminded the kids to say their personal private prayers. Nathan got a serious look on his face and said, "Mom, I've been sinning a lot." Oh, really? "I don't say my prayer every night."
Before I could respond, Sarah said, "That's okay, Nathan. Just pray and ask Heavenly Father to forgive you." And Ammon added, "Yeah, you can repent."
I said good night and left the room. When I wandered through a couple minutes later, I heard three little voices muttering prayers.
Before I could respond, Sarah said, "That's okay, Nathan. Just pray and ask Heavenly Father to forgive you." And Ammon added, "Yeah, you can repent."
I said good night and left the room. When I wandered through a couple minutes later, I heard three little voices muttering prayers.
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