pumpkin carving

Saturday, around lunch time, Grandpa remembered he needed to carve pumpkins before Grammy got home. So they started working. Note my silly girls in the back "reading" the extra newspaper that we brought out for seeds.

Here is the pumpkin display, including Kiddo's work.

This is the pumpkin my husband carved. It's the favorite of Babs. She walks up to it, pats its face, and tells it "hi." It's very sweet.

the sins of the parents

Our razors have been on the bathroom counter the whole time we lived with my parents. Kiddo has shown minimal interest in them, so although I knew it was a bad idea, I didn't make the efforts to fix it.

Then her daddy showed her how he shaves.

Friday night I walked in on her trying to shave her own perfect little chin (no shaving needed). It resulted it two cuts, that given her behavior (and my knowledge of razors), were very painful.

I of course told her that she shouldn't have done that. But it was hard to find the words that taught her what to do without making it seem like it was her fault. Because it wasn't. But she had done something wrong, but it wasn't something she knew was wrong. That was the hard part, trying to tell a good hearted, hurt little girl that although she'd made a mistake, and should never do it again, that she was also without fault; those were words I didn't have.

As we finally got ready for her to sleep (after much weeping, wailing, and assorted sadness), she prayed. My sweet girl, who when she actually expresses her own thoughts in her prayers only gives thanks (thanks that I won't have any bad dreams), said "I'm sorry for using the shaver."



The shavers are out of reach. The cuts are not healed, but Kiddo's not thinking about them any more. But I'll be glad when they fully heal so I can not stare my failings in the face every day.

primary program

Sunday was our ward's primary presentation. Last year I was deeply involved in our branch primary presentation. (Seriously, if you need a good laugh, click that link.) I wondered if the craziness of that presentation was normal.

I am here to report that it is not. This year I was again involved in the presentation, although this time it was as a teacher, so I just kept kids in line. There are a lot more kids in this primary (about 100 each week), so there was plenty of crowd control needed. But no one was asked not to participate. There was not almost a wrestling match between an adult and a 10 year old about appropriate Sunday behavior.

Because of the numbers though, my sweet 3 year old did not get a speaking part (none of the Sunbeams did). Given her level of participation last year, this just did not make sense to her. At the first practice, this was just painful. She would pop up after every kid and ask, "Is it my turn?"

But in yet another example of the tender mercies of the Lord, she was asked to give the scripture/spiritual thought the week of the second practice. So, she got to memorize a scripture (James 1:5), say it in a microphone to the entire primary, and say the prayer (which was not her scripted prayer, yay!).

The Sunbeams did have a special musical number, in which, by all reports, Kiddo held the Sunbeams together, because she sang loudly, clearly, and knew all the words. And she was just as active in singing all the other songs. Many parents pointed this out to me afterwards.

Her real moment to shine though came after, when she went to primary. One of our friends reported to me that while most of the leaders were still in the chapel, cleaning up, Kiddo saw her opportunity. She went straight to the podium, and welcomed all the children to primary, and remembered to tell them what a great job they had done in the presentation.

miracle

Babs started waking up during the night during this most recent growth spurt. She insisted each time she was hungry. We'd head downstairs, groggy, feed her some yogurt or some cheerios, then try to get her back to sleep.

This happened more and more frequently, until three nights ago, when she woke up about 2:30, and never really went back to sleep. Enough is enough, my husband and I said to each other, and decided that night, we would ignore her if she woke up.

Something happened as she was being put to bed, so my husband just put her down, and let her cry going to sleep, until she cried it out. Then she slept through the night.

She did it again last night, hallelujah.

But the real miracle was this morning, when she woke up happy. This is the first morning since we moved that she has not woken up crying/whining for someone to come get her. She was happy! And that makes me happy.

more work

Recently, as I implored my Heavenly Father for insight on how to feel less overwhelmed with my life, he told me to start working. He did not mean to find a job. Instead, He implied that I should pull out my long-term to-do list, and start accomplishing things. As you can imagine, it's been great instruction.

I also felt I needed a long term project. After pondering this for a while, I decided I needed to turn my dissertation into a journal manuscript (publication is another matter entirely). I talked to my husband, and Friday mornings are my work time, while he takes care of the girls.

This is our first Friday. I've now been thinking great intellectual thoughts for about three hours now, and am thoroughly enjoying myself. But as I heard him greet the girls as they woke up, and listen to their stories, and do the things we do in the morning, I missed my role as the center of their universe.

I am glad to share that position with my excellent husband this morning, and other Fridays for a while, and I am sure later this afternoon I'll be tired of the limelight again. What it really assured me is, as much as I love to use my great brain, I love to use it for them, to be a mom all the time, and to be the first and strongest influence in their lives. I get about five years of this for each child. I am trying to take full advantage of it.

favorite sentence

Babs can say "ah-wu-u" and it melts my heart.

It's often followed up with a kiss. It is said frequently to her dolls, and sometimes to me or daddy, or grammy.

I love her too.

same and different

Kiddo has a set prayer. It consists of about four sentences, all taken from prayers she's heard. She uses this prayer for almost every meal, family, and personal prayer she offers. Plus, she almost always offers the prayer, because she wants to.

(Just when we think it will never change though, she offers beautiful sincere prayers overflowing with heartfelt gratitude. For example, just last night she went on at length about how grateful she was she could go camping with her dad, then go on a walk in the morning, and step in poop, and show it to everyone. Not her poop! she points out. But I digress.)

Occasionally, her daddy tries to help her branch out. For example, Wednesday evening she said a blessing on the food, using her set prayer. My husband then told her he would pray, and he was more specific in his gratitude. After he finished, he said "Do you see how our prayers were different? I included specific things I was grateful for."

The next night, we were gathered for dinner again. This time he said the prayer. Kiddo immediately volunteered that she would pray. He started trying to convince her that one prayer was enough, but she insisted. Then she offered her set four-point prayer.

After finishing her prayer, she looked guilelessly at her dad and asked, "Do you see Dad, how our prayers were different?"

success in motherhood

I was sitting between both my girls in the back of the car the other day and noticed that Kiddo's knees were scraped up. They've had scratches and minor cuts all summer, from one thing or another.

I asked my mom, "Is is okay that I look at her scraped knees and think: I must be doing something right?"

first sentence

Babs now has a sentence that she can use.

It's "Ah wann dat." [I want that.]

Is that an improvement from "I need dat?" Kiddo's first sentence? Probably not.

whula hoop

For my birthday, my husband got me a hula hoop (my request).

Kiddo calls it a whula hoop. I can't get enough of it. I was being good, and pronouncing it correctly until I heard her do it right once. And I realized, I can't stand to loose this word yet. I let her lose "bobbin," but I'm fighting for whula, through occasional mispronunciations.

I'm also reluctant to lose smarshmellows.

an unexpected afternoon

Both my kids are asleep. Babs has been asleep for 2 1/2 hours, which may be a record for her since she turned 6 mos. old. Kiddo is taking her third nap in as many days. This means she'll be up with us late again tonight. But right now, it's really quiet and peaceful in the house.

Yet, I don't know what to do with my spare time. I've already read my scriptures, and here's a blog post, and I don't have any projects on tap... Of course, I also never have this sort of quiet in the afternoon, so I guess that's why I don't know what to do.

I hate having this free time, and feeling like I'm not using it to it's fullest potential. I suppose since I'm a busy mom of young children, watching TV and eating cookies seems like a really good idea.

(Too bad I'm living with my parents, so I'm under the "every minute must be productive" brainwashing they do around here; and I really want to lose a little weight, so I'm trying so hard not to eat cookies. I guess I'll figure something out, or go pinch a baby to wake them up.)

W is for "onesie"

Kiddo announced to me yesterday that she would bring her comfort onesie to preschool for show and tell for the week of "W." Then we had an uncomfortable conversation (one of many) about how things are not spelled how they sound. Yes, it starts with a "w" sound, but it actually starts with an "o."

This is her presentation she planned to give:
"This is my onesie. I wear it to bed. My grammy and I fix the holes in it. Well, actually, I made the holes in it, but my grammy fixes them. Actually, I fix them with her. It has purple flowers on it, and white polka dots."

She could have appropriately finished with "I love my onesie."

who they are (in photos)

Here we are at a historical park near the chiropractor. Babs loves to push. Kiddo loves to ride, and read. Pamphlets are great reading.


She was getting older, hair longer, and swimming for a month this summer meant that Kiddo needed a trim. Which also means the baby curls are (mostly) gone. Mom insisted I needed a before shot. Here it is. Note two things: 1) Babs coming in for a free hair pull. 2) Kiddo patiently trying to minimize the pain, but just letting it happen. Babs has got a really good big sister. Hopefully she recognizes this as she gets older.

(We're also hoping that hair pulling and her newest game "Push" won't generalize to other children, like for example, those in nursery. What are the chances?)