Liam Update: July 2013

I'm sitting at the breakfast table with Liam, who has persuaded me to let him break his fast with Ritz crackers.  He sits in the morning sunlight, swinging his feet, and holds up a cracker.  His little mouth shapes itself down into a scrunchy "O" and he speaks in a squeaky voice.  "Hi, Mommy!"
"Hi cracker," I say.
"What you doing?" squeaks the cracker.
"I'm eating breakfast.  What are you doing?"
"Eating Liam!"
"Liam is EATING you?"
 "Mmmhmm!"  And to demonstrate, the cracker jumps into Liam's mouth.  Now just a crescent of its former self, the remaining bit of cracker waves at me, and continues to talk through Liam's puckered lips.
"Hi Mommy!"  The cracker is cheerful as ever.
"Do you LIKE getting eaten?" I ask.
"Mmmhmmmm!"' says the cracker enthusiastically.
"Is it nice in Liam's tummy?"
"Mmmmmhmmmm!"  And with that, Liam pops the remaining bit of cracker in his mouth and swallows it down.
"What a lucky cracker!" I tell him.  Liam beams.  
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Liam boards the big preschool school bus and sits down just as it is pulling away.  He looks out the window and finds me.  He is smiling.  I blow him a kiss.  He blows one back.  Still smiling.  We wave.  The bus pulls away.
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Liam is writing on a piece of paper.  He is making what he believes to be letters.  When he is done, he says, tapping the paper with each syllable, "S.O.A-- Liam.  I did it!"

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A typical conversation:

"What's Daddy doing?"
"Daddy's at work."
"What's Soren doing?"
"Soren is eating a cracker."
"What's Mommy doing?"
"Mommy is talking to Liam."
"Mommy is talking to Liam?  What the-- are you kidding me?"
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Briar is sitting in the computer room.  It is after 8 PM.  The door opens, just a crack.  Bright little eyes peek in.  She knows she should tell him to go back to bed.  But he looks so hopeful.  "Oh, come in," she says.   The door opens more to reveal a smiling little Buddha.  It's impossible to send him away.  She pulls him up onto her lap and he contentedly leans into that comfy spot between her arm and her chest.
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It's morning.  Liam is stretched out across Abe's mother's lap  She is playing his little belly like a bongo drum.  He is delightedly singing a single long note, in love with the percussive cadence made by his voice and his belly.  They are both smiling.
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A not-uncommon scenario:
Soren: Mommy, can I have some water?
Liam: Mommy, can I have some water?
Soren: Are you copying me?
Liam: Are you copying me?
Soren: Stop copying me!
Liam: Stop copying me!
Soren: Mommy, he's copying me!
Liam: Mommy, he's copying me!

Sound of a fist connecting with flesh.  Ear-shattering wailing.
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One evening as I was tucking him in to bed, Liam said, "Mommy, I sosty."  ("Sosty" means "thirsty.")  Sure he was stalling, I decided to ignore him, hoping he would forget he had asked.
"Go to sleep, honey.  Can I have a kiss?"
Kisses.  "Good night, angel!"
"Mommy, I sosty a water.  Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaasssssssse?"
"Oh, okay."
As I walk into the kitchen, I hear him say to himself, "Yessssssss!"
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Liam is wearing my hoodie.  I don't remember why.  But obviously it looks more like a dress than a jacket on someone his size.  He's got the hood up.  We just came home from somewhere so Abe and I are standing in the driveway.  Liam wanders off and we find him tiptoeing down the sidewalk in an exaggerated sneak motion.  Abe called it a "weird creeping Yoda walk."  We both think it is adorable.
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Everywhere we go, Liam runs.  He's got this little trot that he does, not much faster than the grown-ups walking.  He holds his arms up high, so that his hands swing more by his armpits.  His shoulders swing back and forth.  The little wiggle he does is cute.  Even Soren says so.  He can go and go and go.  Often, he likes to run away-- down the hall at church, out the front door at home, into the baseball field, into a different section of the store-- giggling wildly, contagiously, so that the adult chasing after him won't scold him too hard when they finally catch up.
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Liam is playing with a little stuffed cheetah and a little stuffed bear.  He hides one under a blanket.  The makes the other one hold its paws over its eyes and count to ten.  When the counter's eyes are uncovered, it immediately looks under the blanket.  "I found you!" it exclaims happily.

Liam loves eating outside.  He'll take his meals out on the balcony whenever he can.

Soren Update: July 2013

Ear-splitting screams come tearing through the house.  "MOMMY!  MOMMMMMMYYYYYY!"  The boys have been playing outside and I was sure that Liam had fallen off the swing and had stopped breathing. I run up the stairs to see Soren standing at the top of the stairs, bright red blood dripping over his lips and chin.  He is catching it in his hands while the neighbor girl looks on in what appears to be confusion, mingled with horror.  "MY NOSE IS BLEEDING! Soren shrieks.  "MY! NOSE! IS! BLEEDING!"  He is shaking his head back and forth, sending blood splattering all over the walls and floor.  This is a typical nosebleed at our house and I've learned how to handle it.  Mostly it involves avoiding carpets. Speaking in a soothing voice, I hurry and shuffle him off to the bathtub, where blood can be washed down the drain.  I help him get his clothes off and sit on the edge of the tub.  Gently, I try to assure him that it will be okay but that he just....needs...to calm....down.  But nothing I say matters.  (Once, though tears and tripping blood, he croaked out "Mommmmmmmyyyyyyy" like he was dying and actually blew a blood bubble.)  In the bathtub it takes about a minute to get the bleeding to stop and he calms down.   "I just hate bleeding," he tells me emphatically.  "Me too," I say, as I get out a rag and a bottle of bleach.
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We are in the park.  He is holding the handle of his brand new kite.  It is a perfectly windy day.  He lets out the string and runs, little legs kicking out at angles.  His face is lifted to the sky.  The wind blows against his face. He is smiling.  Laughing.  Aglow. 
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Soren is playing in the yard while I weed our flower beds.  He follows me around while I work, as he often does, chattering away.  He is imagining creatures that might exist that no one in the world knows about yet.  He tells me about a whale that lives deep in the ocean and is so big that "a blue whale would look tiny next to it."  He says it's covered in lights like an angler fish and that it has scoops on the bottom of its body.
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We are taking a walk as a family.  Soren has brought his tricycle but remembers, after we've crossed the street, that he's not wearing a helmet.  "You'll be fine," I tell him, but a half a block later he stops his trike, folds his arms, and bows his head.  He is praying that he will tricycle around the neighborhood in safety.  
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Soren and I are in the bathroom at my office.  It is a Saturday, but I'm on a payroll deadline, so following a free breakfast of pancakes and ice cream (courtesy of Reed's Dairy), the boys and I have come to work.  Soren has pulled me away from my laptop to help him with a mess.  "I accidentally got some soap on the floor," he had told me.  And, indeed, lo, there in front of us was a little pile of foamy soap.  "Well, just wipe it up with a paper towel," I tell him.   "I can't," he says.  I roll my eyes.  "Oh, sure you can."  "See?" I say, and I rip off a paper towel and clean up the pile of bubbles with a single swipe.  But just as I wipe it up, the soap dispenser sensor picks up on the motion and immediately ejects another squirt of soap, right into the spot where the previous pile had been.  "See?" said Soren, giggling a little.  I giggle a little too.  "Maybe if I do it faster," I say, grabbing another paper towel and going for a quick swipe.  Squirt.  More giggling.  "Maybe if I do it from this side."  Squirt. "Or in super stealth mode from above!"  Squirt.  "What if I cover up the sensor?"  Squirt.  By now Soren and I are laughing hysterically, sitting side by side on the bathroom floor.
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In the past couple of months, Soren has:
-Told me that a lady we were talking to did, indeed, look like a grandma "because she has wrinkles."
-Loudly remarked on the odd shape of a co-worker's head (for the record, in my opinion, said co-worker has a perfectly normal shaped head).
-Asked his auntie why she has red dots on her face.
-Asked me if the person standing next to us in the produce department was a boy or a girl.   Multiple times, as I tried to quickly shepherd him out of hearing range.
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Two sets of words that Soren gets mixed up:
-Blister and Splinter
-Modest and Honest
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Soren runs inside and slams the door behind him.  He runs a few steps into the kitchen and then stops, looking at Briar in horror.  "What have I done?  What have I done?"  He runs back and opens the door again.  "I'm so so sorry, Liam.  I'm so sorry I closed the door!"
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If he is not the source of Liam's suffering, Soren often cries alongside his brother when he gets hurt.  Abraham's mother was watching them one morning when Liam was stung by a wasp.  She reported that at the end of the affair, it was Liam comforting Soren, hugging his upset brother and reassuring him, "I okay, Soren.  I okay."
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Abraham, Soren, and Liam are watching a youtube video of a monster truck rally, at Soren's request.
"When are they going to start fighting?"  he asks.
"Monster trucks don't fight," Abe tells him.
They watch for another minute.
"When are they going to start fighting?" Soren asks.
"Monster trucks don't fight!" Abe says.
Another minute.
"When are they going to start fighting?"
"MONSTER TRUCKS DON'T FIGHT!"

Even after a ten minute long video of monster trucks who didn't fight, I'm pretty sure Soren still believes that, in another time and another place, there are monster trucks fighting.

We all had a nasty stomach bug a while ago.  Poor Soren got it the worst.  He couldn't even hold down water for a couple of days. 

Soren and I made some homemade slime. 

Soren's end-of-the-year Kindergarten concert.  It was a Sesame Street theme.  His nose was itchy through the whole thing, so he spent a lot of time scratching it, but he was otherwise delightful.

Dance party. 

Soren made me a present one day and even crafted his own wrapping paper.  The wrapping paper is above; the gift is below.  Isn't it so cuuuuute?

Helping me make ravioli...Soren LOVES ravioli. 

My little mud monster.

St. Anthony Sand Dunes

It was a hot, happy day.  

Cress Creek

We recently went hiking as a family on a little kid-friendly trail near Heise along a stream called Cress Creek.  Soren wanted to be carried about 100 yards into it and spent the remainder of the trip begging for breaks and snacks, but Liam sped all the way to the top and down.  Love these boys.

Briar's Birthday

If loving Briar is wrong...

...I don't wanna be right! 

Briar recently turned 23.  Her big birthday gift was a surprise visit from her little sister Ivy and their mom, all the way from New Hampshire.  Also, I had several of the above t-shirts made (slogan by our co-worker Laura; design by me) and a bunch of our co-workers wore them to celebrate her big day.  Also, our co-workers decorated her desk with streamers and construction paper ferrets.  Her mother made her a chocolate lasagna.  That evening Abe, Briar, Ivy, and I went to see Man of Steel.   Good times.  

Book Journal

Rebekah

By Orson Scott Card

I always enjoy Orson Scott Card, and this book was no exception.  It added a lot of flesh to a familiar Bible story, breathing life into the characters and making them real, tangible, and accessible.  

Cry the Beloved Country
by Alan Paton

Beautiful.  Along the lines of Grapes of Wrath.  A simple, sweet story about change, about faith, about despair, growth, love, redemption.  It made me feel safe, giving me a sense that while life can hurt, it can also be beautiful.  That there is always hope, even in the darkest of despair.    

Mistborn
by Brandon Sanderson

I have such admiration for Brandon Sanderson-- he can not only create a cast of believable characters, but a whole world with its own geography, history, and political and social structures.  I seriously loved Elantris, which (along with the recommendation of my friend, Andrew) is why I picked up Mistborn, the first book in  series.  And I enjoyed Mistborn.  Good characters, interesting ideas, good plot shaping.  I did feel like it could have used a little more editing, as some of the fighting/allomancy scenes ran a bit long and detaily, but overall it was a good read.

Dream Themes

I have a very active dream life.  I have vivid dreams pretty much every night and remember almost all of them.  If you've spent any amount of time around me at all, you've probably heard me blather a bit about some dream or another that I had just recently.  They're just so interesting to me.  One thing that I find particularly interesting is that I have several  recurring dream locations and themes.  When I was a kid, I'd have nightmares about running away from either Nazis or drug pushers. Nowadays, my recurring dreams are a little different.  I'm not sure what it is about these particular things that makes my unconscious mind feel the need to probe and re-probe while I sleep, but I thought I'd compile a list of some of my more frequent dream theme repeaters.  

Water

Frequently there will be a large, pulsing, powerful source of water.  An ocean or a sea.  Sometimes it seems to be getting closer or larger or moving inland.  It can be threatening, but mostly I'm just drawn to it on a deep emotional level.  

I also have a lot of weird water/LDS temple dreams.  There will be big waterfalls in the middle of the building, or water cascading down stairs or down the walls in locker rooms.  One time I dreamed that the basement of the temple was filled with water.  The walls were lined with stores and temple patrons could glide along in gondolas, Venice-style. 

Organ



These started a couple years ago when I started playing the organ in church.  In my dreams, I'll show up late for church and everyone will be waiting for me to play.  The organ will be pulled away from its spot and unplugged, or buttons or pedals or keys will be missing.  The bench might be way too high or way too low.  Sometimes it's in my church building, sometimes it's in other churches.  The sound might be all wrong.  Sometimes there won't be any books and I'll be trying to play hymns from memory.

That School Dream


I frequently dream that a review of my high school records showed that I was actually few credits shy of graduating from high school, which means that I have to go back and re-do my senior year.  I'm my current age, and I know I have a Bachelor's degree, but for some reason I still have to go back.  There's all the usual locker distress (I can't remember my combination!) and then I inevitably forget about a class or two until the semester is almost over.  I'll scramble around, trying to catch up on all the missed work and material, looking into correspondence courses, and generally panicking because I might have to do it all over again.  .  

Houses



There are a couple of homes I frequently visit in my dreams:

The McCabe's house.  I would say at least once a month I dream about the house of my childhood best friend, Becky.  I spent many a happy day (and night) there from a very young age up through high school, and the place has wormed its way into my psyche in a serious way.  It's an interesting house, with lots of rooms and unusual carpet colors and two stories (something I've always loved in houses).  In my dreams it often has even more rooms and sometimes secret levels and winding tunnels.   (The house pictured here is the McCabe's house.  They sold it recently--and not to me!)

The Liddell's house.  My "best cousin" Ashley and I would take turns spending weeks at each others' homes during the summer.  I also spent a lot of Easters and Thanksgivings at Ashley's house, since she lived in  Utah, not too far from our grandparents.  Frequently my dreams center around bathroom mix-ups, a theme I blame on my once having accidentally walked in on her other grandma naked in the bathroom.  And probably because I'm making this list, last night I dreamed that Ashley and I were going to begin attending high school at her Alma Mater, Carbon County High. She was concerned the other high schoolers would make fun of me for having gray hairs.

Dream houses.  Sometimes I dream about luxury homes that I live in.  They feature lots of winding staircases, big bathtubs, and huge windows.

I very rarely dream about the home I grew up in.  I suspect this is because I spend so much time there now.

Anyway, there you have it.  A good inside look at my unconscious mind.  So please, someone, pull out your copy of The Interpretation of Dreams and let me know what's going on in there.  Or at least share your own recurring dream themes.

Cool Things You May Not Know About My Dad

My pappy.  I love this man!  

1. My dad has a degree in Diesel Mechanics and can fix just about anything, given enough trips to the hardware store.  

2. My dad is a outdoors guy.  If you don't know this about him, it's because you've never met him.  He loves to fish, hunt, hike, and camp.  I spent many a childhood weekend bushwhacking to streams and letting my dad help me fish by touching all of the gross things, like worms and, well, fish.  He recently got to go on a dream fishing trip in Alaska with his cousins (pictured above).  

3. When my parents first got married, my dad worked as a coal miner in Utah.  Later, he got a job as a nuclear technician at the Idaho State Laboratory.  The site where he works is an hour and a half drive out of the town we live in; he has ridden the bus back and forth to work for almost 35 years.  The work hasn't always been thrilling, but he has always worked hard and been an excellent provider.  

4. Many of my dad's work buddies have already retired and get together periodically for breakfast at Frontier Pies; he joins them when he's on the right shift to do so.  On his birthday this year, my sister and I got to meet this group of men.  Adorable.  And they dress just like him.  I love that my dad has made this wonderful group of lifelong friends.   

5. My papa can not sit still for very long.  He is always busy doing something-- fixing things, building things, digging holes, pruning trees, gardening, snow blowing, going to the hardware store, getting ready for a fishing trip, getting ready for a camping trip, etc.   

6. My dad is a fabulous husband.  For example, he is not naturally interested in sports.  However, because he is supportive of my mom's avid interest in sports, my dad now watches games, gets depressed when BYU loses, knows the names of the major tennis players, and even spent an entire day in Boise happily watching tennis matches.  

7. My dad is a faithful member of the LDS church and has always been willing to serve in any way asked of him.  He has been a  home teacher, a scout leader, and a primary teacher, among other things.  When his work schedule made it so he could only attend church half the time, my dad was the Church Magazine Subscription Guy.  I still remember him coming home from a twelve hour work shift and sitting down at the kitchen table to call people about their magazine subscriptions.  I didn't think much about it at the time, but it brings tears to my eyes now to think about how willing he was to do what was asked of him, even though he was tired, even though it wasn't a particularly glamorous or exciting calling.  He just did it.  

8. My daddy loves music, especially classical music, and can play the piano quite well.  My sister remembers him playing a lot of Mozart when we were younger.  When I was a child, he was the Primary pianist.   When he retires in a year, he plans to learn how to play the violin.  

9. Speaking of churchy things, my dad served his mission in New England.    That's also where my father-in-law served his mission.  And it's where the father of my children grew up.  That New England is just a fathery place. 

I am so grateful for my sweet and handsome papa.  He is a powerful source of unconditional love and support and I am overwhelmed by my good fortune in being able to call such a man "Dad."  

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.  

Grownup Update: May 2013

-I don't know if I've mentioned it here or not, but Abe switched jobs in November.  He left his part-time job at the public library and become a full-time mortgage document compliance specialist at a company called Docutech.  It makes us both very happy to have him positioned in a place where the work is challenging and his skills and work ethic are appreciated.

-Abe's getting a full-time position has enabled me to scale back my hours at my own job.  I'm now working 28 hours hours a week and the reduction in hours has made it so I can be home most days by 2:30 or 3:00.   This has given me more time to focus on my role as a mom/homemaker, which has been lovely.  I feel soooo much more balanced.

-I've recently become addicted to Jillian Michaels workout videos.  I did 30 Day Shred and am currently working on Ripped in 30.  They are AMAZING workouts and I can always motivate myself to do them because they're only 30 minutes long.  They make me feel strong and energetic and healthy, and I like them so much that I haven't been able to talk myself into switching over to my usual summertime running regimen yet.  I also just love Jillian, who gives great motivational speeches during her workouts and is never irritating like Denise Austin.  I also have a secret love for her (admittedly melodramatic) reality TV show, Losing it with Jillian.  

This was all made possible by my co-worker B.J., who for years has been demonstrating the various exercises Jillian "made" her do during her workouts, and whose enthusiasm for Jillian finally persuaded me to give 'er a try.  So thank you, Beej!

-Abe and I recently celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary.  Abe came home from work one day with a white rose and a little potted succulent plant named Herbina (reminiscent of our first cactus, Herb).  Just as I was about to ask what the occasion was, he said, "Happy Anniversary!" And so it was!  But I had totally spaced it.  However, a few weeks later we really celebrated by spending three luxurious days and nights in Lava Hot Springs.  Thank you to my parents, my sista, and Briar for watching the kidlies so we could be freeeeee for a few days.

-Also, in March I turned thirty.  Thirty is just not as old as it used to be.  I have been having a mild crisis regarding whether or not I'm fulfilling my life's purpose (vocational path, number of children, etc), but other than that, I'm digging being thirty. I like it a quite a lot, actually.  It makes me feel solid, grounded.  I think my thirties are going to be good.

Here's the birthday poster Briar and the boys made for me while I was at work.  :)  

Some Recent Quality Improvement Activities (or...The Return of the QIA)

You may remember back in '11 when I went through a phase of documenting everything I did to improve the functioning of my household?  I would link you to some examples but I'm too lazy.  Anyway, I swear I've done things between then and now, but I lost my documentation fervor.  However, I have recently implemented three changes of which I am proud.  They are:

1)  Recycling!  My guilt levels decreased by approximately 37% when I finally got this going.  Self-recriminating statements have also taken a significant dip.  And I am here to tell you: it's EASIER THAN IT LOOKS!  I know many of you are from more forward-thinking areas, places that have had curbside recycling programs in place for years, but here in rural Idaho, they are harder to come by.  But I finally made a call, found out that it was ridiculously cheap ($5/month!), purchased some stackable recycling containers (also available on Amazon), and stopped unnecessarily clogging up landfills.  For those of you in Southeast Idaho, call Curbside Recycling for more info!

2) Routine Charts!  This is one I have had in place for a while.  I created it because I wanted Soren to be able to go through his morning routine without me prompting him every step of the way.  Each thing he needs to do in the morning (ie, Brush Teeth, Comb Hair, Complete Homework) is represented by a picture and words on a card.  The cards are attached to the chart by a little piece of yarn.  When he completes a task, he flips the card over so we know it's been taken care of.  Not gonna lie: there is still quite a bit of prompting, even if it's just, "What's next on your chart?", but at least he knows what he's expected to do before he's allowed any special privileges.  I had initially made "AM" and "PM" charts for each of the boys, but the chart is way over Liam's head and I found that the evening one was more of a hassle than just hustling the boys through our evening routine, so we mostly just use the AM one for Soren. Our chart is obviously oft-used, and it wasn't really that gorgeous to begin with, but I'm sure you supermoms out there could make something beautiful-er if you were so inclined.  Anyway, I share this purely because it's been helpful for us and I like to share any tiny little shred of light that I've had shed on this mysterious adventure called parenthood.

3) Dinner!  But first, a confession:  I totally suck at controlling meals in our home.  It's pretty much a snack fest from dusk til dawn around this place, with the kids' preferences weighing in too heavily on the food selections we make.  Hot dogs again?  White bread and cheese again?  Cereal again?  Scrambled eggs again?  Bananas again?  More candy?  Oooooookaaaaayyyyy.   Guilt seizure.  I was cooking meals but people would kind of come and go, eating when they felt like it, myself included.   Also, I was a little mortified to discover that we hadn't really taught our kids any table manners.  

So, to begin to address this issue, we had a big Family Home Evening about table manners and table-setting technique, and I've been doing this hog-wild crazy thing where I cook an evening meal, set the table, and we all sit down and eat together.  And so far, it's been a success!  Mealtimes are more pleasant, the kids seem more amenable to trying what has been prepared, and we all have a chance to practice our manners.  Plus, I get this crazy high feeling from having identified a problem and figured out a way to correct it.  

My plan is to keep working on this, using meal planning to help create a little better food structure here in the Skousen household.  

Next Up in the QIA queue (not necessarily in this order):  Potty-training Liam, night-time potty-training Soren, putting an end to whining and badgering, increasing prompt obedience, working on helping Soren stop and think before acting, cope with disappointment, and focus on following through with tasks without getting distracted.  Also figuring out what's wrong with Liam's digestive system.   And working with him on language development. And I'm thinking about implementing a new set of rules (Be Respectful. Be Responsible. Be Obedient.) and bringing items of concern to Family Home Evening for discussion/solution brainstorming.  

Anyway, it seems like raising children is a little bit like sailing on a leaky ship.  You plug up one leak and two more spring up.  But I just keep reminding myself that I haven't failed if I'm still trying!    

I Heart Facebook

I don't know why everyone's gotta hate on Facebook all the time.  I mean, sure, it can be a time suck and a gateway to adultery and an awkward forum for family feuds.  Yes, it's irritating when people confuse it with Pinterest or insist on re-posting grammatically egregious and broadly stereotyping statements about life or relationships.  But these things aside,  Facebook has its merits.  So many merits, in fact, that I'm going to put myself out there and say that I like Facebook.

And this is why:

It actually helps me connect.

Facebook makes it possible for me to know when someone in my neighborhood is sick, or just birthed a child, or had an embarrassing incident with their kid at the grocery store that I can SO relate to. When you're running into acquaintances and casual friends in the real world, and you exchange pleasantries, there's not usually time or context to remark that you're trying to be better about gardening or that you thought it was so cute when your kid fell asleep while eating dinner last night or that it was so awesome when your husband surprised you with flowers or that you think Obamacare is the best thing that has happened to America in a long time or that your dad just developed a weird rash under his left elbow and you're worried it might be something serious.  But that is JUST the sort of content that shows up on Facebook.  And that content provides little glimpses into who people are, what's important to them, what's going on in their lives, and how they perceive themselves.  It's way more meaningful than, "Hey!  How are you?"  "I'm fine!  How are you?"  "Good!  How's work?"  "Good!  How are your kids?"  In fact, Facebook makes it possible for you to extend these real-life conversations into more meaningful territory.  Whereas in Before-Facebook Land, after exchanging greetings you might stand awkwardly for a moment and then be like, "Well, it was good to see you!  Bye!", now you can say, "I saw on Facebook that your kid threw up on you during dinner when you had company!  That has totally happened to me, too.  So embarrassing.  Are you guys sick?  Can I bring you some chicken soup or Gatorade?"  It opens the door to real conversations.  Real connection.  And real service.

Facebook has also helped me connect with friends I've made along the way, to keep tabs on what they're doing and where they're at.  And it has helped me connect with cousins on both sides of the family, helped me keep track of what they're doing, where they're living, the work they're doing, and how big their kids have gotten.

Facebook isn't perfect.  It isn't the perfect way to get to know somebody or keep in touch.  But it is a good way.  And, short of reordering society into a more tribal, sustenance-based structure and creating a much greater emphasis on hand-written letters, I think it's one of the best ways we've got.

Cool Things You May Not Know About My Mom

1. My mom can be pretty scary.  She may not look scary here, but wait until she brings out The Flashing Eyes.  Then you'll run.  And cover your bottom. (I say 'bottom' instead of 'butt' because I don't want The Flashing Eyes to flash at me.)  

2. My mom is a teacher.  I always loved knowing that my mom was a person outside of her identity within the family.  She taught school for many years before she got married and had children, and also part-time on and off while I was growing up, so I have always thought of my mother as a teacher. A great teacher.

3. My mom is one of those people who talks to everybody.  She makes jokes with the lady straightening the rack in the clearance section of the store.  Grocery clerks tell her about their infertility problems.  She once attended a poetry slam because the guy who cleaned the building where she volunteered was doing a reading.  She has listened for long hours while a loquacious and deaf neighbor has repeated, at top volume, all of the injustices that befell her in childhood.

4. My mom was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis twenty five years ago, but she has never let that define her.  I recently heard someone describe a family member as being "chronically ill."  Curious, I asked what illness the individual was coping with.  "Oh, rheumatoid arthritis," my friend remarked.  For a moment, I was confused.  But my mom has rheumatoid arthritis, I thought.  And she's not chronically ill.  It's not like the RA doesn't affect her.  It sure does.  But my mom doesn't think of herself as ill or crippled, so neither does anyone else who knows her.

5. My mom is pretty much obsessed with tennis.  It's a random thing she picked up five, ten years ago.  She knows the names of all the big pros and follows the big tournaments religiously.  And when the Davis Cup came to Boise, you bet your booty that she and my dad were there, front and center.  On a somewhat related note, she is also a die-hard BYU sports fan.  She will listen to entire football games on the radio.  And more than once she has showed up to grandkids' birthday parties with headphones so she could tune into the action during a lull in the festivities.

6. My mom is a woman of faith.  She has been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints her whole life.  She serves faithfully in any way that she is asked to.  She ensured that we had family scripture study and prayer every morning before we left for school.  She encouraged gospel discussion around the dinner table.  She sent both her sons on full-time missions for the church and all four of her children have been to the temple.

7. My mom is a reader.  I remember her bringing a book along wherever we went.  She read at sports practices and while she waited for us to finish up piano lessons and when we were camping and when we were not camping.  She read aloud to us on roadtrips.  She's belonged to a book club for probably twenty years now.  She passed that love of reading down to each of her children.

8. My mom is astoundingly emotionally healthy.  She doesn't have any neuroses.  She doesn't dwell on negative things.  She's not constantly wracked with guilt and anxiety like so many women are (ahem...me).  She's not manipulative.  She's not prone to wild mood swings.  (Though I will say that her forging her way through menopause while I simultaneously climbed the mountain of puberty was sometimes a little, um, strenuous...)  She's extraordinarily good at balance-- balancing activity with stillness, service with boundaries, work with play. Scariness with lovingness.  And that's probably what I'm the most amazed at--my mom's ability to be so totally loving and so totally in charge.

9. My mom is musical.  She loves music.  A lot.  She was so excited about The Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat that I was excited about them too.  I recently spent a happy Sunday afternoon at her home, listening to amazing Mormon Tabernacle Choir tracks with her.  She plays the piano and also played the organ for many years.  Recently a little girl from church told my mother that she was her "piano hero."

If being born in a family is like playing the lottery, I totally hit the jackpot.  I'm so grateful for my parents, and on this mother's day, I am especially grateful for my mom.  Love you, Mama.

Reading Journal: How to Get Your Child to Eat (But Not Too Much)

Basic Ideas:

There is a division of responsibility when it comes to your child's eating.

YOU are responsible for providing meal structure, scheduled meals and snacks, and a nice eating environment.  YOU are responsible for selecting what foods are available.  Kids have small stomachs and need to eat every 3 or so hours, so plan accordingly.

YOUR CHILD is responsible for choosing if, what, and how much to eat of what is available when it is available.  

Never, ever bribe, beg, or cajole your child to eat.  Let them choose.  Left to their own devices, kids are actually pretty good regulators of their own nutritional intake.  (As long as they don't have unfettered access to sugary foods.)

Make sure that you're reasonable in providing some food that your children will eat, particularly for snacks.  At mealtimes,  Satter recommends putting bread or something similar on the table so that if your child doesn't like anything else being served, he or she can at least fill up on bread.

If you're having dessert, serve it along with the rest of the dinner.  Everyone gets just one serving.   Usually the kids will eat their dessert first, but upon realizing they are not filled up by dessert, they will eat the other foods too.  This prevents overeating in order to get dessert, and then eating dessert on an already-too-full stomach.

It takes a while for kids to get used to a new food.  They may have to see it and smell it many times before they'll taste it.  They may have to taste it several times before they like it.  Allow them to explore without pressure.

Comments:  

I read this book because I got tired of feeding my kids snacks on demand and then watching them pick at their meals.  It all makes good sense to me and I'm trying to get better at incorporating the principles and not letting my kids always decide what they're going to eat and when.  I wish that I had done this from the very beginning with my boys, though, because bad habits die hard.