A temple trip

We've had an unseasonably warm fall, so two weeks ago when things finally cooled off, we decided it was time for an evening stroll at the temple. It was so pleasant to be there at sunset, enjoying both the architecture and the landscaping--of course the kids mostly enjoy the fountains.

Afton was anxious to learn as much as possible about temple work and is getting excited for the day she can participate (12 seems so far away...sigh). I hope to help my kids learn a reverence and appreciation for the temple early on, so the goal of temple worthiness is real and tangible to them. Eliot came home and asked to have his temple picture posted above his bed. Perhaps we've made a good start.

My boys.

At the rink

Some months ago, Afton and Eliot found our box of roller blades in the garage. Regardless of the fact that Dad's are a size 11 or so and mine are at least an 8, they spent hours rolling back and forth on the back patio, finding their balance and trying new tricks. So when they were invited to a Birthday party at the skating rink last weekend they were raring to go. Even though it was quite a bit chillier than our 80 degree picnic at the park half an hour before, they loved it! Eric, who is remarkably adept on skates, showed them the ropes, and they really took off. Thanks, Ashlee, for a super fun time!

Dressing Up

We had lots of fun at the ward Trunk or Treat activity. Eric's impromptu Daniel Boone costume came from the old scouting box--yes, he made that fantastic shirt by hand ages ago. After some years of requesting, we finally created Rapunzel for Afton--again Eric gets credit as he attached her lovely locks. Simon didn't want the mask or gloves, but was a very energetic Spiderman. And even though Eliot's Mario belly matched mine (the train engineer), he has since removed and deflated his. Lucky duck!

More Simon says

We're eating breakfast. Simon lets out a very dramatic audible gasp, as if lightening has just struck somewhere nearby.
"I got a new idea," with one little fat finger in the air. "How 'bout a movie," like this is the most novel thought in the world, especially for him.

We're headed to the park. Simon expresses his excitement thus, "Oh my, my, my. That'll be so fun!"

As I pull into traffic, I hear roots and cheers from the back seat. I didn't realize Simon thought this was a Nascar event. "Go, Momma, go!! You can drive. You're the winner!"

Simon's new nickname for me, but just for playtime: MommaDude.

Practicing. Practicing.

I can hear her voice in my head. The Russian ballet instructor from the 1949 movie "On the Town" is trying to encourage me, but somehow it still grates. "Practicing. Practicing."

In Hypnobirthing many of the words associated with labor and delivery have been changed to more positive, gentle terms (but honestly a surge feels just like a contraction to me). Nevertheless, I am happy to report that the waves that hit each evening, the surges that keep me watching the clock and rearranging my family's emergency schedule night after night are not false labor. I'm just practicing.

Eric has a new analogy which feels fitting. He says it's as if someone has told you you're about to run a marathon. You've been getting ready, preparing yourself physically and emotionally for some time. Now the organizers are standing in your yard, looking excited. Bring it!
You hear, "On your mark!" I'm so there, "Get set..." Nothing.
"On your mark...Get set...Nope not yet."
"On your mark...Get set...Go run around the house for a while."

So I'm not making predictions anymore. One of these nights all the practicing will pay off (practice makes perfect would be nice). And one of these mornings, I won't wake up in my own bed, but today is obviously not that day. Oh, here comes another. "On your mark!"

Moments and milestones

The start of a new school year has brought some fun accomplishments for our little clan. Even without pictures, I've got to record them before they're lost forever.

Afton is in second grade now. For all her tear-filled fretting over a new school, new friends, uniforms, riding a bus, and the other changes about which she was anxious (don't know where she gets that from) she has adjusted wonderfully.

Afton's teacher reads Charlie and the Chocolate Factory aloud after lunch. Recently she informed me that Mr. Cowser asked her to read in his place that day. His voice was hoarse, so he handed to book to her. She was so pleased and so flattered. I asked if other kids were also taking turns reading aloud, but so far she's the only one. What an honor. Now as I listen to her coach Eliot on inflection and expression, I'm certain she gave her class a very animated performance.

Eliot has finally begun kindergarten after what seemed like an eternity. He rides the bus happily with a buddy, not at all worried about whether or not I had a chance to kiss him goodbye and wish him well. He's such a good boy, eager to please and happy to follow every piece of instruction given. He tells me most of the kids have a hard time listening to Mrs. Ruggles. Even his playmate describes Eliot as the best kid in class. I thought they must be exhaggerating at least a little. Aparrently not. Recently, his teacher was heard to say, "If only I had a class full of Eliots. My job would be so much easier." I told Eliot I was so pleased that he was respectful. Put a sticker on your chart!

Simon doesn't seem to mind the one-on-one time with Mommy at all. When the kids are at school, we go to the library, read stories, sing songs, watch Nemo, and get ready for the new baby. That includes my goal to have one in diapers at a time. I said I was going to tackle potty training and I did. The first day I washed every pair of underwear he owns. Not a really great track record, but we kept at it. He is now diaper-free with a pull-up at night and naps just because I have no desire to change sheets as often as I changed his underwear. AND he is happily sleeping in the bunk bed, so the crib is available for our new arrival. Such a big boy!!

What great joy even their small successes bring me.

Changing my mind

I am despairing over my hair...again. I have vacillated between a commitment to growing it out and loving it short for longer than I can remember at this point. Yesterday I looked at Eliot's hairdo and wished aloud that mine looked more like his.
"No, Mom. You'd look like a boy."
"What? No, not with this," I say pointing to my pregnant belly.
"Ok, a fat boy."

Hmmm. He's probably right. Not a good idea.

Motherhood

I am a people watcher. Yes, I have probably spent a good deal of time watching you. Hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable. Perhaps it is my growing, moving bulge, or the physical absence of my own missionary mom, but my thoughts have centered on motherhood of late. My family--and Eric's, but I'm going to focus on mine for now--is filled with remarkable women, dedicated mothers, patient nurturers, solid matriarchs. May I share a small part what I see?

Anita devotes countless hours to the study of raising healthy, happy children. Her book list is filled with titles that reflect her determination to provide the very best she can offer as a mom.

Nancy is an energetic go-getter who is instilling the can-do, growth mindset in her children. They're happy, productive little people who are gaining confidence in themselves and their several abilities.

I spied on Stefanie a few weeks ago while we were visiting. She sat on the floor with her fat little SkyMax after tubby-time, singing songs, making animal sounds, and answering his phone over and over again. This little guy who is hesitant about the entire world, trusts and adores her implicitly.

Jayne's deep and lasting patience with each challenge a child's quirk offers is bested only by the fantastic humor with which she reports their adventures.

Mieka's perfect balance of calm and roll-on-the-ground tumble time suits her children to a T and brings them clarity and security in this world.

Mostly, you wonderful women that surround me, I see patience; that elusive virtue we all crave and fret over. Through good and very bad times, your persistent goodness brings peace to your families.

And Gayle. There is so much to say about my mom, but perhaps the best observation of all is the long-lasting influence she has had on us as people; the way each of us is embracing our role as mother; working, praying, crying, laughing, and investing ourselves whole-heartedly in these little friends, just as she did.

A quiet night and some quality time

I made Jello today; something I've done fewer times than I can count on one hand. My kids didn't know quite what to make of it. Eric is working late tonight, so dinner wasn't gourmet by a long shot...chicken nuggets, roasted broccoli (which Simon ate - Mom scores!), and Jello with Mandarin oranges inside. I started thinking of the Jello I used to eat as a kid, most memorably on holidays.

I described Grandma Jensen's favorite Jello salad that my mom used to make for us with shredded carrots inside, and Great-Grandma Rose's "frog eye salad" with pomegranates from her bush out back. Of course, I began with, "When I was a little girl..." and Afton immediately interrupted with, "I love it when you tell little stories about when you were a kid. It inspires me to tell stories to my children someday." She then proceeded to explain to me how this was kind of like family history and would I like to move to the couch so we could both be more comfortable?

Since I had her undivided attention, I described cracking walnuts at Grandma's house. Grandma Rose had a metal cracker you squeezed by hand, but at home we had a big wooden spring-loaded thing that was way too much fun. Afton got out the book Over and Over (a gift from Aunt Stef) to show me a picture of the little girl cracking walnuts. It was exactly like at Grandma's. So we read the story together, each taking a page. I told her about the old butter churn and Mom's antique popcorn popper I used to remove from the mantle to dust and examine periodically.

After putting Simon to bed, Afton and Eliot joined me for a few chapters of The Indian in the Cupboard. For ages I've been trying to convince them how great this book is. On Monday I brought it in the car for a drive across town and they were hooked by the first page. I remember reading books aloud in the car. Mom created the most fantastic voices, especially for characters in The Indian. Sometimes we hadn't quite finished a book when we arrived home after a long trip. Rather than unpacking the car, or heading sleepily off to bed after an exhausting journey, we all took up a comfy spot in the front room to hear the rest of the story.

They're not big things, but I sure feel peaceful tonight with memories on my mind and a gratitude for family. Simple pleasures really are the best!

Where do they get these things?

Simon has been willing and able to "go" in the toilet for nearly a year now, but I have not successfully potty trained him. I decided I would give it my undivided attention when the kids finally begin school next week and Simon and I have some one-on-one time to devote to the task. Yesterday, Eric sent him in to the bathroom to use the potty before putting on a new diaper or something. He returned quickly and, shaking his head said, "Not gonna happen, Daddy."

Kids often have a phrase they pull out when they can tell Mom or Dad's no is going to be firm. Afton used to interrupt my no with, "Ok, we'll see. W'e'll see." Simon's is, "Maybe later." But it's his delivery that cracks me up. He can be mid-cry, demanding the candy or the swim he thinks he deserves. When I hit about the third no, he raises his eyebrows, tilts his head, and with every bit of inflection he can muster says, "Maybe later," and then "That'll be fun."