Friday, October 21, 2016

that was long...

When we returned home from vacation in early August, we realized that we had a slow leak in a water pipe, which had destroyed a wall, and water was under all of our basement flooring. AUGHH!

Ten weeks later, after being gutted of our stuff and the flooring, our basement is finished. We actually changed the color of the room, the floor, and it is beautiful. I'm so grateful that it's done.

It looks so good I'm just a touch reluctant to fill it back up with my stuff...

Thursday, June 9, 2016

potty success... sort of... mostly!

We're now at five days with no accidents. None.

Some how we finally found the right incentives (bribes) (youtube time and matchbox trucks taped to the wall to help him remember what he wants), and he uses the potty.

Interestingly enough, last week I was almost ready to put him back in diapers, because he just didn't seem to care, and was passively resisting all my efforts. ("Uh-oh! I did peepee on the floor. That is NOT awesome!" he would report.) My efforts were failing, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to fight. I prayed a lot to know if there was a correct answer, and what that might be. While we were failing, he was wearing pull-ups because he's right, peeing on the floor is not awesome (but it is super funny to hear him talk about).

But he was getting a rash. So one day I put him back in underwear. And I remembered, this is what I want. And sometimes its okay to do things according to a parents schedule. That day I was supervigilant about taking him, often, and we found the right bribes, and here we are, with everything working the way it should. It's a miracle. (A miracle that happens for almost all people, but every mom thinks its a miracle every time, I'm sure!)

He's still not good about using the potty outside of the house, but he can hold it for forever, so I'm sure that will come when it's time. I'm so relieved.

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

three versus seven

We were talking about our family at the dinner table. One of the kids asked if we would have any more kids, and we told them no, and discussed some reasons why, and how that would change their lives if we did.

Without giving any details, I mentioned that we wouldn't have any more babies, because we were being very careful not to have more babies.

Babs thought about that for a moment, then said "Grammy wasn't very careful."

Monday, May 30, 2016

new attitudes about church

The boy did not want to go to church yesterday. He wanted to go outside and play in the sand. He cried as we headed to church. "I want to stay with daddy," he called out. I would then tell him (again) that Daddy was already at church, and we were going too.

"I not want to go to church!" he said again. Having grown up since Babs said the same thing every Sunday, instead of saying "we go to church, and that's what we do," I explained that we love Heavenly Father, and going to church is one of the ways we can show that. None of this made him want to be at church any more than before.

During Sacrament Meeting, he heard a baby crying. Instead of last week's sweet comment about the sad baby, but he's happy, he said the following: "Hear that sad baby? He not want to be at church." (I may have laughed a little.)

He was happy to be heading off to nursery after sacrament meeting though. Except the building A/C was broken, so we only had Sacrament Meeting. The kids were surprised when we told them we were going home. The boy recovered quickly when I told him he could play in the sand when we got home.

But Babs cried the whole way home, because she couldn't go to primary. She was so sad to miss her "little class." There was no distracting her from her sorrow. The crying was irritating, but it couldn't quite take the joy out of my heart that Babs actually wanted to be at church!

Saturday, May 21, 2016

what's your name?

For many weeks, when the boy was asked his name, he would reply: BOY!

Of course, they would then ask again. Then he would reply: BIG BOY!

 (Well, big boys are stinky, so they use deodorant, probably not their mother's though...)
(And big boys smile.)

And sometimes he is, a big boy that is. For example if he has an potty accident it's because he chooses to, not because he doesn't know how to do it right (which is small consolation in the moment).

But sometimes he is a "small boy." That's when he either a) doesn't want to do things that big boys do (participate in scripture reading, use the potty, come when he's called), or b) can't do the things that big boys do (go to school, reach high things, mow the lawn, etc.) So when he announces to us that "I a small boy" it is either with defiance, or sorrow.

Two. It's a confusing age.

Monday, May 16, 2016

in my ears

The boy is really focusing on what he hears right now. (I have never worried about his hearing.)

He pauses, then says "I hear something in my ears..." This means we have to identify the noise. So I have to stop filtering the background noise, focus on it, and figure out what sound he is paying attention to. I listed a bunch of things the other day, none of which were right.

"It goes 'ti ti'" he said, as I figured it out. "Oh, it's the clock," I said, pointing, where he can see the second hand move with each tick. He was very pleased.

He also hears babies crying. At the store I mentioned that usually means the baby is sad. So now when he hears a baby cry, he tells me, "You hear that baby cry? That baby is sad. I not sad. I happy!"

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

the cheshire cat

The benefit of the prophet getting older is that he gives very short talks, and I can make my kids listen to the entire talk. Which I did for the first two Mondays after General Conference. I gave exactly the same lesson both weeks, once to just Babs and the Boy, and then the week after to all three kids.

I had guessed that the second time through Babs would complain, but she didn't even seem to realize we were hearing it multiple times.

Then a few weeks later she was leafing through the Friend magazine, which had a picture of Alice talking to the Cheshire cat. "Hey," Babs told me, "here's the story Pres. Monson told!"

I was thrilled. She recognized the story. She realized it was associated with the prophet. She could read enough to identify the picture. Oh wow! We may make it!