Soren Update: July 2012

These are the notes I've taken on Soren's life over the past few months:

One morning Liam ran into the kitchen crying.  Before I could say anything, Soren asked in a genuinely sweet voice, "What happened, Liam Baby?"

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One day Soren told Briar "I'm going to be an inventor--and you're going to be an explorer and find new stuff me."
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At night Soren likes for me to tell him a story.  I'll make up random stories using whatever comes to mind, things like, "Once upon a time there was a family of badgers who decided to move out of their badger den and into a condo in the city.  The badger kids started wearing name brand sneakers and playing at the park every day.  The mother badger had her hair set once a week by the beautician whose shop was around the corner.  The father learned to golf and went nearly every weekend with his friends.  They all enjoyed traveling on the subway together.  They lived like this for quite some time and were generally happy.  The end."  But if I tell a story like this, Soren will say, "But you forgot about 'and then one day,' Mommy." "And then one day" is apparently the phrase I usually use to introduce a conflict into the plot during story time.   That kid, he's a stickler for plot.  
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One of Soren's greatest fears is that a truck will come while he's using a portapotty, load it up, and drive away while he's still inside.  My job while he's doing his business at the city park is to stand guard and make sure no trucks take him.

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The boys and I were playing in the sandbox one evening and Soren was flooding a corner of the sandbox with the hose.  "Look, Mommy!" he told me, and went on to explain that he was flooding outerspace but that he lived on a crater and the people who lived out in space thought he was a giant machine.  A very important giant machine, apparently, because he then added:   "They even pray to me!  They start their prayers, 'Dear Heavenly Giant Machine'..."

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After work one night Abe was watering the lawn and Soren wanted to play in the sprinkler with me.  I was reluctant-- didn't particularly want to get cold and wet-- but I finally took his hand and we ran through.  After two giggle-filled passes through the shockingly cold sprinkler, he wrapped his arms around my legs and exclaimed, "I love you, Mommy!" Totally worth it.

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Mommy: Soren, how can you stand to sleep in this filthy room?
Soren (surveys the mess for a minute, then shrugs):  It doesn't make any noise!

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Soren amazed us on Father's day by making a very nice Father's day card.  All by himself he wrote "Dad" and "Soren" and drew a bunch of hearts.  At church he answered a questionnaire about his daddy too.  According to Soren, Abe's favorite thing is ice cream and his favorite food is ice cream.  He also remarked that his favorite thing to do with his dad was go to the Army Surplus store. (You know you're from Idaho when...)

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The first thing Soren said to me upon waking one morning was, "Why is every day so dumb?"

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Soren told Briar that the only "fing" he liked to do in the back yard was watch the garden grow.

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I was doing a fingerplay about Joseph Smith at Family Home Evening.  Liam happily chanted along with me, doing his best to match my actions and words; Soren covered his ears and said, "Blah, blah, blah!"

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One night when we were camping Soren was having a hard time settling down because he's so scared of the dark.  Finally, out of the darkness, I heard his little voice begin a prayer.

"Dear Heavenly Father...."

Little Liam chimed in with his own nonsensical words and they prayed together in the darkness.  Their prayer went something like this:

"Fank you for this day.
Fank you for Mommy and Daddy.
Please somehow make this trailer less scary.
Name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Then there was silence.

Then: "Mommy?  I'm still scared."

I climbed down form my bed and lay down with the boys until they were asleep.

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Soren helped push Grandpa's pickup truck into a jump start while we were camping.  He pushed all his forty pounds into it and was very excited when it started to go.

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One night we gave each of the boys a cup of water, kissed them good night, and closed the door to their room.  Sweet silence.  Then, Liam started screaming.  On investigation, Abe discovered that Soren had emptied his cup onto Liam on the bunk below.  "Soren, why did you do that?"  asked Daddy.    Soren looked bemused.  "What else was I supposed to do with it?" 

Playing (and hamming it up) at the park with daddy.

Behold: The Giant Machine God. 

Soren made a robot out of yogurt containers, pom poms, and an empty paper towel roll.  They played together all morning.  Here, they're playing under the rug. 

Now they're posing for a few pictures.

Soren will probably use these exact same faces in a photo booth someday.

Soren's preschool class had school pictures taken.  I paid for the group picture.  It was quite adorable.  This, however, was his individual photo.  I thought it was hilarious but was unwilling to pay the package price to get it in duplicate.  He's so cute it hurts my heart a little. 

Soren loves Briar's ferret, Mice.  Mice is a bit of a nibbler, though, so Soren always makes sure to wear shoes on his feet and socks on his hands when they play. 

There are truly no words to adequately describe this child.  He is just....so....much.  So preciously much.  So intensely much.  And I love him so much.    And "much" no longer sounds like a word.  

The end.

Liam Update: July 2012

At bedtime, Liam asks me to lie down with him by patting his pillow and saying, "Bed!"  Once I'm lying next to him, he'll insist on giving me kisses.  "Kith Nose," he'll say, and kiss my nose.  "Kith Eyes," is next, and he'll kiss my eyes.  Then, "Kith Hair," and he kisses the top of my head.   Last is "Kith mouth," and he'll plant a peck on my lips.  When he's done with kisses, he'll say, "Enough!"  Enough, Mommy!"    

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One day when his Uncle Quentin and Aunt Tailour were visiting, Liam was playing a game with them that involved sneaking.  He has a very exaggerated, squatty sneaking-up technique that involves a lot of elbow swinging and knee bending.  They both thought it was hilarious.    
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Liam taught himself how to jump, finally.  Legs shoulder-width apart, feet splayed out, he swings his chubby little arms and clears the floor by about a quarter inch.  He is in ecstasy.  I overheard Soren say to his Aunt Tailour: "Isn't it 'coo' that Liam can jump so well even though he's so little?"  
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Liam's new favorite word: "Nnnnnnnno!"
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Whenever Liam hears a rooster crow, he says, "I'm coming, Rooster!"  One day he was flying jellybeans into his mouth and making them say, "I'm coming, Liam!"
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One morning I told Soren that if he hurt Liam again, we wouldn't go to the park as planned. He was offended by this, and spent some time pouting around ostentatiously.  I was doing my best to ignore him but Liam, seeing his brother distressed, toddled up and offered him a hug.
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One evening Liam expressed an interest in going potty in the potty.  He sat down on the training toilet and Soren immediately rushed in with a stack of books to keep him occupied. He also planned to do a pooping demonstration on the big potty but Liam got bored (or maybe uncomfortable!) and decided to quite potty training for the day.
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Liam does this adorable thing where he'll be running along and suddenly stop, back up a few paces, get a grim and determined look on his face,  then barrel forward.  It reminds me of a cross between a toy cars you wind up by pulling backwards and a football player heading in for a home run.  

He climbed into bed and fell asleep all by himself.  What kid does that?  

Liam is a joy.  Everyone loves him.  Even when he's being obstinant and defiant, he's adorable.  Even when he's woken up for the sixth time in a single night, he's precious.  It's just impossible to be mad at him.  He is my snuggly buggly cuddlebucket of love.      

A Happy Post

I'm feeling perfectly contented and wonderfully happy tonight.

Spent a sunny day with my gorgeous little boys.  

We went fabric shopping and I couldn't resist Liam's happy shiny little face when he ran up to me with the package of fingerpaints he found.  And then I told Soren that he had to pick between the two "soft" things he wanted ("It's the craft fur or the curtain tassel, boy!"), but when he sweetly acquiesced and selected the craft fur I was all, "Oooooh!  You're too sweet!  We'll get the tassel too."   

We went to the bookstore and they each picked out some books.  Liam even sprawled out on the floor on his belly to flip through the books he found.  When the clerk rang rang us up and told me, "Thirty-seven even," Soren asked, "Is that lady speaking Anglish?  Or is that Spanish?"  

Grandma and Grandpa Hanson sweetly watched the boys for me while I took a nap in their guest room.  

Then we got snowcones and ate them in a patch of grass by the highway.  Liam tried several snowcone eating methods (straw? spoon? drink?) but finally settled on using his fingers.  Soren got sick of his halfway through and asked me to tell the lady in the Snowshack that the snowcones started out tasting yummy but got yucky at the end.  

We went grocery shopping and they didn't whine or beg.   

We came home and I cooked, not one, but two nutritious dinners (one for tonight-- one for tomorrow!).  Liam helped by sauteeing mushrooms and onions.  Soren helped by sprinkling spices on the chicken.

We danced in the kitchen to Haydn's surprise symphony and Beethoven's fifth.  

And then their good-lookin' daddy came home and we all went to the park.  Liam made friends with the angsty teenagers sitting on the stage in the park shelter.  Soren wallowed around in the dirt.  Daddy sat on the top of the jungle gym and chatted with Soren.  Mommy kept an eye on Liam and read Take the Cannoli.          

We brought the kids home, bathed them, and put them to bed.  (They were even too tired to even remember to employ any bedtime delay tactics!)

And then I went for a solid run.  

All in all, a very good day.    

Can I just tell you how desperately in love I am with my little family?  How precious they are to me?  My sweet, supportive husband and those blue-eyed little boys--they are my everything. My only complaint is that the boys are growing so quickly.  I just want to freeze them, just how they are.  Keep their little cheeks heart-breakingly smooth.  Keep them little enough to curl up in my lap for a story or a cuddle or a song.  Keep them young enough to always love being chased and tickled, to always notice every butterfly and airplane, to ask endless questions.  They are little angels, pure and lovely and perfect (even when they're caked in mud and acting less-than-angelic!)  I'm so grateful they are ours.  

Snuffer Visit 2012

Abe's sister and her husband, Nate, and their two kiddos came to live with us for three weeks.  They are a lovely family and it was fun to have them here.  I kind of slacked in the picture-taking department, but this is what I've got of their visit here:  

Chase (far right) is six.  Maya (middle) had just turned five before arriving at our house.  They kept my kiddos occupied much of the time.  Chase and Maya spent a lot of time pretending that Chase was a baby named Juicy and Maya was his mother.  Sometimes to switch things up, I got to be the mother and Maya was the Grandma. 

 One day the kids helped me make cupcakes.  Maya somehow ended up with chocolate on her forehead.   If you look closely, you can see Nate in the background.  

And yes, that is Liam looking very pregnant.  He's due any day now.  

 When Chase and Maya learned that at our house you can do chores to earn tokens that can be spent on toys and candy, they very enthusiastically did any household task I requested of them.  They were forever asking if there was anything they could do to earn tokens.  I wish Soren would catch their excitement. 

Brothers

More than anything, I want my boys to be each others' best friend.  Soren still occasionally tells me that he wishes Liam were dead, so I don't think they're quite there, but they do play together adorably sometimes.  

On the trampoline at my sister's house.   

 At a park with Daddy.

 Playing dress-up in the kitchen. 

Playing "Bridge." 

Liam looking on in alarm at Soren's flamboyant cross-dressing dance moves.

Soren excitedly telling me about Liam's new hair clips.

Twin burritos. 

In the sandbox with Mommy.  I love sandboxes.

Soren pretending to tuck Liam in for a nap.  

Catch-up Post: Birthdays

Soren turned five on January 1st.  We had family over for a party...

 ...plus he wanted to invite two friends, Kienzle and Porter.  Aren't they adorable?  

Soren decorated his own cake.  Cute, eh?

Liam turned three on February 25th, so we had another party.

Briar decorated Liam'sLightning McQueen cake.

My boys are getting so big!

Star Hope Campground: 2012

To celebrate the 4th, my parents and my sister's family and me and my boys went camping.  Abe had to work, so we sadly left him at home.  When we reached our camping destination following a four-hour-long drive, I realized that I had forgotten to bring two important items:

1) A camera.
2) The boys' clothes.  (Mind you, I'm not such a dingbat that I didn't PACK the children some clothes.  They just didn't make it out to the car.)


But we survived anyway, thanks especially to Grandma and Grandpa, who took the boys into Mackay the next day and wandered forlornly around the town, begging for clothes, until they were finally able to procure two shirts, one pair of pants, a package of pull-ups, and a Mackay Pride hoody.  The boys were constantly filthy from head-to-toe, so I figured it didn't really matter that they didn't have fresh clothes every day, because they would have dirtified their new outfits early in the day anyway.

The boys and I tried various sleeping configurations each night, including: (1) In Grandma and Grandpa's camper, boys on the table bed, Mommy switching between the bunk bed and table bed throughout the night, (2) In the tent, on the air mattress, a boy on each side of mommy, and (3) In the camper, Mommy and boys on the table bed.  All I can say is that it's a good thing my boys are cuddlers, not kickers or squirmers.  I would also like to express my gratitude to my darling parents who allowed me long, luxurious naps on our two full days in the campground to help compensate for these less-than-optimal sleeping positions.

Highlights of the trip included:

-Grandpa taking Soren fishing.  Soren caught eight fish in about one hour!
-Grandma finding some fun new books (Including my favorites, The Talking Eggs and The Three Little Wolves and the Big Bad Pig) for the boys at a garage sale in Mackay.  
-Mommy spending a lot of time following Liam around the campground, chasing him around in circles, and watching him energetically dance on any ant he found until it was deceased.
-Soren catching a pet butterfly.
-Liam repeatedly tipping his obliging eleven-year-old cousin, Marty, out of his hammock.  This caused Liam to laugh until he couldn't catch his breath. 
-Soren and Mommy building a fort out of branches and logs.
-Soren and Mommy going for a hike.
-My dad showing me how to drive the Smith's four-wheeler and riding with me while we took a delightful, wind-in-the-face spin through a canyon.  
-Soren pretending to be the teacher and taking Mommy and Liam and his stuffed bunny, Bucky, on a field trip to the creek.
-Soren going for a hike with his Auntie Collette and cousins Tessa and Calysta and encouraging himself up the hillside by quietly repeating to himself, "I fink I can, I fink I can, I fink I can, I fink I can...."

I was proud of myself for surviving four days in the wilderness with my children.  I couldn't have done it without lots of family support, for which I am very grateful.  It truly was a lovely trip.

P.S. Isn't Star Hope the best name ever?  If we ever have a girl child, that'll totally be her name.

Sin, Repentance, and Love

I've been thinking a lot about the concept of sin lately.  Also, repentance.  And of course, my favorite, love. 

Sin

What is sin, exactly?  There are things we do that aren't good, I know this.   Some people even do very awful, unspeakable things to other people.  But we are a muddled-up bunch, we human beings, each person a big tangle of genetics and brain structure and spirit and chemicals and diet and sleep and family background and traumatic events and personality quirks that mix and react and make each person susceptible to all kinds of serious mistake making.  

I see choices as being right and wrong depending on how they affect other living things, especially other people.  And I see other choices as being more conducive to happiness than others.  But "sin" and "sinfulness" and "wickedness" are concepts that are strange to me.  They don't seem useful to me-- in fact, they seem more like labels that separate us from ourselves, from each other, and from God.  To be "sinful" or "wicked" means to be bad, filthy, unworthy of love.  It is difficult to conceptualize positive change growing from such a burdensome concept, to imagine love and compassion springing from that idea.  

I believe that all  human beings contain a spark of divinity, a light that can be brightened or dimmed but never extinguished, though it can certainly be covered and hidden and dimmed by unkindness or cruelty, by addiction, by fear.  That dimming or covering is the closest I can come to understanding the concept of "sin," which draws it more as a descent into sadness--or perhaps a loss of light-- but never a diminishing of the immutably divine nature of the individual.

Repentance

Repentance is another idea that is difficult for me because it draws images of sackcloth and ashes and long, excruciating acts of self-flagellation and desperate prostration before an angry god.  Repentance I prefer as the idea that change is always possible, as the promise that you can turn and go in a different direction.  I like repentance as a thing of hope, not the screaming and crying of an oppressed subject begging for mercy.  

Love

I really dislike the thought of doing good because you hope to receive some sort of reward or avoid a punishment.  You should do good because you love and because from your love springs a desire to bring happiness and light into the lives of the peoples whose lives touch yours.  For this reason, I am not a big fan of the parable of the sheep and the goats, where Jesus divides people into two groups-- people who have been selfless and kind to others (sheep) and people who have been selfish and unkind (goats).  Then he spitefully rejects the group of goats.  He tells them, "Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels."

I dislike this scripture because (1) Isn't Jesus supposed to be patient?  Wasn't he sent here to help us?  Wasn't he sent to the sinner, to lift them out of their sorry states?  What is he doing, so callously labeling and condemning people?  Can't he cuddle the goats, and scratch behind their ears, and feed them a treat, and show them how to be kind?  What is up with the burning?  and (2) If is supposed to be motivational, then it's a craptastic kind of motivation.  I think you're supposed to read this and then grab your jacket and head out the door to clothe the naked and feed the hungry and visit the imprisoned.  But that puts a selfish twist on acts of kindness.  It moves acts of love from, "I'm visiting you because I care about you" to "I'm visiting you -so I don't go to hell.  You know those eternal fires...always a-burning!"

I've been thinking a lot about motivation for making moral choices since reading The Sociopath Next Door by Martha Stout.  People can choose to do the right thing for a variety of reasons, the primary ones being:

-Thought of consequences (positive and negative)
-Attempt to maintain self-concept ("I'm the sort of person who________")
-Concern about others' perceptions of yourself.
-Love (for self or others)

I would like to become the sort of person who almost always acts out of love.   This will be tricky, because I don't want to be the sort of person who does nice things because she wants to be the sort of person who does things out of love, but rather because I really do just....love.  This is my goal.  To just love.

I love love.

Thriving

I recently read a blog post in which the author, a young mom, described a conversation she had with her husband while they were scheduling their week.  "What can I do to help you?"  he asked, and she said, "Well, to be sane I need...."  and she listed a few things.  But then her husband said, "April, I don't want you to just be sane, I want you to thrive." 

Super sweet, right?  

But that got the squeaky little wheel in my brain a-turning.  Thrive, eh?  Thrive?  Could I possibly thrive? What do I need to thrive?  So I made a list, because I love lists and they make me feel safe.   

My Thrive List
-Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep most nights, plus one good nap a week.

-Love
-Time to think
-Meditation

-Writing Time

-Music Time

-Reading Time

-Vigorous Exercise at least three times a week

-20-30 minute walks most days a week

-Solitude

-Friends

-Family

-Poetry

-Freedom from whining

-The right to say ‘no’ without guilt or badgering.  

-A clean house

And then I sighed.  Like I'd get all of that.  I've got children.  And a job.  And a house.  And a church.  I don't have time for solitude and poetry and saying no! 

But then I started thinking that maybe I should make the time. 

My coworker girls and I recently went to see The Lucky One, starring Zac Efron.  It was a typically ooey gooey chicky flicky romance, and quite enjoyable (except for an overly long sex scene that made me start to feel like a creepy voyeur), but there was one line in the film that struck me: 

"Sacrificing everything for your children isn't selfless.  It's stupid."   

(To add context:  This was said by the feisty grandmother of the main female character, Beth, who had just ended her relationship with this very sexy, broody-but-tender soldier man named Logan (Zac Effron) because her ex-husband was threatening to take away her child if she continued seeing him.)

But anyway, the grandma said this and I was like, "Whaaaaa....?"

And while I was still saying "Whaaaa....?", Beth reacted just the way I would have.  She threw something and shouted, "I'm doing the best I can!"

And I was like, "Yeah!  Leave her alone!"

(WARNING: SPOILER ALERT)

But then Beth decides to stand up to her stupid ex-husband and then sexually assaults Zac Effron in a shower and, well, you know-- romantic things like kitchen dancing and sun-drenched boat rowing ensued, and everyone lived happily ever after, especially after Beth's worthless ex-husband ends up drowning despite Logan's heroic attempts to save him. 

(Nicholas Sparks?  How did you get so in touch with your feminine side?)   

But long after the movie ended, I was still thinking about that line.  "Sacrificing everything for your children isn't selfless.  It's stupid."  Is is really stupid to sacrifice everything for your kids? I wondered.  Isn't that what we mothers are supposed to do?  

Well, yes.  And no.

There are things we as mothers are supposed to do-- love and discipline our children, provide them with healthy meals and warm beds, read them stories, support them in their interests, comfort them when they're scared and sad, teach them how to take care of themselves and be good people and work hard.  But that doesn't mean that we stop being people in our own right, that we are supposed to sacrifice everything we are and all our time and all our interests and desires in the name of fulfilling their every whim.

There is a BALANCE.  A happy medium.  And I've never been good at balance and happy mediums.  But after years of going and going and going and not properly nurturing myself I have found that I have reached the bottom of my well.  I have drawn all the water and am now scraping around in the mud, trying to find something good to give to someone.  The words spent and exhausted and depleted have taken on all new meaning for me.  I find myself grasping desperately at the resources of time and sleep.  Worse, I sometimes find myself resenting other peoples' happiness.  And that is something I do not like one bit.  I want to celebrate others' joy, not slink around all darkly whenever something good happens to someone else.

So I've been trying to figure out the minimum that I need to do to fulfill my role as a mother.  As a person who likes to go above and beyond, this has been difficult.     But when I think of the things I want to give my children, long term, three core words come to mind:

JOY
LOVE
RESPONSIBILITY

It is my job to do my best to give them these gifts.  But it is also my job to make sure that I have them as well, partially because of the truism that you can't give your children something you don't have-- and also because of the simple fact that I am a person too.  I am also someone's child.  And I know that those someones (and Someones) want me to be joyful and loving and loved and responsible.

So instead of giving every scrap of spare energy to my family, I've decided to set some minimum standards and aim for those instead.  Obviously I need to make sure the children are getting adequate sleep, are provided with regular healthy meals each day, are picking up after themselves, understand their consistently enforced limits, and are practicing good hygiene.    

In addition to that, I feel like I should do the following:

Most Days:
-Wake up and have breakfast with the kids
-Read stories
-Have family scripture study and family prayer
-Have family skills training (teaching the children a social skill or coping skill)
-Family Dinner
-Bedtime Routine

Weekly:
-Play with the kids for 1-2 hours
-Family Home Evening, including a fun activity
-One-on-one time with one boy (while Abe spends time with the other boy).

 Twice a year:
-Family vacations

This doesn't mean we can't do more things together (for example, the kids usually "help" me cook), but it also means I don't have to feel guilty saying "no" if I've met the minimum standards and they want me to do something I don't want to do.  It means I can slip away one night a month to spend time with the girls.  It means I can take a day off a couple times a month just to be alone.  Or write. Or read poetry.  Or play the piano.  Or go shopping.  Or visit with a friend. It means I can sit and read while my kids whine about being bored (in another room, of course, because I don't want to hear it.) 

This is my version of confronting the ex-husband and attacking Zac Effron in a shower.  Not quite as steamy, but I'm happy about it anyway.