Soccer

I suppose I am officially onto my second child because I completely forgot to take the camera to M's first night at soccer on Monday.  And when I tried to take pictures with my phone, my battery died.

And that is just too bad, because it was hilarious.

It was rainy and cold and even though I called several times, the hotline never said the games were cancelled.  Because if there's anything I know, it's that 3 year olds - who probably shouldn't be playing soccer anyway - should definitely be playing in the rain.

All those little marshmallow bodies - wrapped in coats and hats, and their "soccer shirts," running around aimlessly on the fields.

*Please ignore the rant below*

(Of course, that's when you could actually see them.  Quite a few parents were obviously not on the second child.  They had brought their cameras and their camcorders, and they did not find it necessary to leave the field because they wanted to be taking pictures.  This drove me bonkers because I couldn't see M for all the parents on the field.  Justin thought I was being a little crazy.  But seriously, if there is anything I've learned from teaching ballet to little 2 1/2 year olds it is that the parents should just leave already.  Once I even had to go get M and pull her past the parents to where the coaches were.  They had boxed her out in their helicopter insanity.)

*End of rant*

M was typically M.  She enjoyed the drills - where she had her own ball.  But when they began the game, she planted herself by my side and refused to budge.  R-E-F-U-S-E-D.  I should have sent GQ in for her.

*****

Speaking of GQ, on Monday I had help reining in the crazy critter.  But on Wednesday, we went to E's game without Dad. 

Heaven help me!!!!!!!  For real.

Last Fall, we played at different fields - and I could take the stroller to strap him down and keep him off the field.

Not so easy here.

And let me tell you, GQ is insistent that he be on the field.  He is insistent he is on the team.

We spent a good 10 minutes with him writhing/thrashing/screaming in my arms.  Then, when I put him down, he would stay on the sidelines for a little while before looking at me - with a grin - and kicking his ball out into the field.

What is sad is that GQ is better at soccer than me.  He easily dribbled the ball past me several times as I tried to catch him.

I was just lucky there was a lot of mud.  I usually only caught him after he had fallen down.

*****

Now I have mud-covered clothes.  And since I am in the remedial laundry class I cannot get the stains out.  You'll all have to teach me pretty quick or my kids are going to look pre-mud-stained next week.

Check!

Somehow it still does not occur to me that as the mother I am the one that is supposed to remember all those fun holiday traditions.  In fact, this Easter Sunday we ate Lentil Soup, because that was the last meal I had before we needed to go to the store again, and I forgot that we maybe should have had an Easter Meal.  Oh well.  I like Lentil Soup, and I hate ham.  So, that turned out well. 

Still, E kept bringing up how last year Aunt Jessica and Uncle Danny helped her and M decorate eggs.  (Oh... decorate eggs.... I remember.)  So, yesterday afternoon (yes, that is the day AFTER Easter) we finally decorated our eggs.

E was very concerned we were doing it the day after, but I told her it didn't matter - we could eat the eggs anyway. 

M was very confused because she was sure it was just Easter again.  And, she also was concerned about us doing something with "dying Eggs."  I tried to explain that they wouldn't be dead, that we were just making them a new color, but I don't think that sunk in until we actually did it.

GQ just tried his best to dip his hands into the dye, and spent the rest of the time dropping all the eggs until they were dented on most sides.

Still, we had fun and we miraculously did not dye anyone's clothes/hair/skin etc.

Do You Need Teeth for That?

Today I had a meeting to look over the theatre we're using for our performance.  GQ was really, really enjoying it.  He was enjoying it so much that he could not help writhing and screaming in his stroller.  Luckily, I had a sucker.  So, I gave it to him.

Later, he gave me back a sucker stick that was approximately 1/2 inch long.  I found no vestiges of sucker stick anywhere around him.  I am pretty certain he ate it.

So, did he just get it so wet and soggy with slobber that it went right down?
Did he chew it with his few and far between teeth?
Was it really so boring hanging out with me that eating cardboard seemed like a reasonable thing to do?

Yum.

(I suppose it was better than when we were cleaning the Church on Saturday and M was feeding him chewed gum from the garbage cans.)

Egg Hunt

GQ's favorite part of the egg hunt was... the balls.  In fact he threw a knock-down fight when I dragged him away to the actual egg hunt.  I had to cheat and find him an egg before they started so that he would get that something fun was going on.

And while he did look for eggs, and did enjoy eating the treats... he was very happy to get back to the balls.

E had fun rolling down the hill and picking dandelions.

GQ, in addition

This is what you get when you invite GQ to coloring time.  Coloring?  Not so much.  Throwing crayons all over the kitchen?  Yes, that sounds like a fine idea.

This is GQ saying:  "no."  He also like to say - over and over - "Bumby, bumby, bumby."  What does this mean?  I haven't a clue.  And if I keep asking him to do something despite the "no"?  He takes out his finger, points it at me, and makes a light saber noise.  As in, just you wait, I will get you with my light saber.

Aida

One of the songs on my playlist at home is the following from Aida.  Sometimes, it makes me laugh.  Especially when I'm serving lunch and I hear the following words:

Aida! Aida!

All we ask of you
Is a lifetime of service, wisdom, courage
To ask more would be selfish
But nothing less will do

I don't know, something about that stanza just strikes me as downright hilarious when I'm involved in the "I want water/a spoon/a fork/a napkin/more/less/something else" tasks of mealtimes.

But, when I'm not laughing, the following stanzas remind me that my responses to my children's all encompassing needs/desires/want should probably be addressed a bit more differently than I currently deal with them.

Sometimes it confuses me.  I am supposed to serve others, but dealing with home-life can exhaust me by the end of the day, it keeps me from stepping outside and acknowledging that other people exist. 

People?  There's people out there?

And home-life, despite being for "them" - all those people in my house - is also intrinsically selfish.  I mean, children in these years are almost appendages to their mothers.  They are me.  So taking care of them is really just taking care of myself.  Doing their hair, dressing them.  And so many of the other things I choose to do are not completely necessary. They are things I like to do, but they do not save any souls or solve any world evils.  My house does not need to be as picked up as I have it, it's just that I go slightly crazy if it's messy.  I do not have to teach ballet, but I choose to.  And the girls hair does not have to be done, or - gasp - their teeth brushed. 

And somehow, suddenly, even those other things that are "service" to the people in my home are also somewhat selfish.  So there I am - tired by my "selfish" homegrown tasks - unable to serve those outside my home.  And yet, didn't I just spend the day doing things that I seriously would never have done in my pre-family truly self-centered college life?  You know: diapers, wet-sheets, breakfasts/lunches/dinners (meals are a hate for me... I mean, I'd rather starve than cook or do all those dishes every day - and I'm completely serious).

The never-ending question of what I should be doing is exhausting in and of itself.  What is necessary?  What is good?  What is service?  What is fitting?  What is productive?  What is the needful thing now?

I am supposed to know this?

Says Aida:


It's knowing what they want of me that scares me

It's knowing having followed that I must lead
It's knowing that each person there compares me
To those in my past whom I now succeed
But how can whatever I do for them now
Be enough
Be enough

But, these are not really questions I find myself capable of answering presently, and so it all wanders 'round and 'round my head as I go on, task by task.  I think, however, I should be thinking a little more about the last stanza.  That somehow the energy in it, the purpose in it would help the rest fall into place. 

I know expectations are wild and almost
Beyond my fulfillment but they won't hear
A word of a doubt or see signs of weakness
My nigh on impossible duty is clear
If I can rekindle my ancestors' dreams
It's enough
It's enough

At least, in the magical world of musicals where problems appearing at the beginning of songs can calmly be solved by the end.

Reasons to Hyperventilate

If there is anything that really bothers my mother about me, it is that I think too much.

I could give you a list of the things I think too much about, but then I would start thinking about them again.  And then my whole morning would go down the drain.

Because one result of me thinking too much is me hyperventilating.

When it is after 10:00 pm and I start doing this, things get really ugly.  This is when Justin tells me to go to bed.

But sometimes it does not have to be after 10:00 pm for this to  happen.

Like when I was pregnant with E, and they took my blood, and I saw all those vials stacked up, and I was pretty certain I was going to die because they took all my blood away, and I had to sit on the couch and watch an Anne of Green Gables marathon to keep myself from thinking about the blood anymore (or the fact that the hole in my arm might start squirting blood all over if I took the band-aid off).

Yes, this is how it goes.

Which is why when E told me her tooth was loose yesterday I knew I was in for an all-out fit.

Can I just say that I still have recurring nightmares about losing teeth?

You know that moment when one string remains attached between tooth and gum, and you can twist the tooth and pull it upward off your gum, but the string doesn't snap?

Or when it does come out and it won't stop bleeding?

Or that horrible feeling of empty, squishy, wet, cool gum?

Heaven help me, I am NOT ready for this.

GQ

This is GQ.  GQ is a little rascal.  GQ wakes his sisters up every morning at about 6:40.  Since they can't come out until 7:00 they either: a) giggle or b) yell at each other.  Usually they yell at each other.  Unfortunately, I blame this all on GQ for waking them up.

GQ likes to dance.  Justin shakes his head about this.  Seriously, I do not attempt to indoctrinate him.  But since we teach ballet at our house two days a week, GQ likes ballet.  Below is his attempt at an attitude.  GQ also likes to have his fingernails painted.  Since I paint them clear - per Daddy's orders - he always wonders whey his fingers look nothing like his sisters.

Right now, GQ likes to throw fits.  He throws fits if anyone has a toy he wants.  (And if they have a toy, he wants it.)  He throws fits if you don't carry him up the stairs, and if you don't carry him down the stairs - which I usually don't.  He throws fits if you don't let him play in the pantry, if you don't let him sit on the stool with you while you go to the bathroom, or if you ask him to come inside when he is playing on his bike.  He throws fits if you lift him into his carseat - he can get in himself.  And he throws fits while you drive because really, how dare you strap him into a carseat and drive around.

GQ is also cute.  He always gives me a hug after I change his diaper.  He never leaves anyone alone in time-out.  He always sits next to them and gives them hugs (even if they are in time-out for hitting him).  He loves to cook.  He pulls up a chair and insists on stirring and dumping in ingredients.  He likes dollys - especially M's - and usually he doesn't bang its head against the wall, although sometimes he does.  Every morning he asks where Daddy is, and when I say he's at school he says:  "Oh." He loves the phone.  And he loves balls.  He likes to shoot his basketball and make "Aaaahh" sounds when it goes in the basket.

In fact, on Sunday, they opened up extra seating in the back.  When GQ saw the basketball standards he got excited. He jumped, he pointed, he yelled "ball," he tried to escape past the children at the end of the bench, and when he couldn't get out - he threw a fit... the kind that results in Daddy carrying you kicking and crying from the room. 

'Cause seriously?  Who would rather sit and color when you could go play basketball?

And that's GQ

Rainbows

Last week I finished the rainbow costumes.  Sewing seven "petals" for eight costumes took me a while.... so I was glad to be done with this one.  I also wasted quite a few matches burning the ends of the ribbons.  Now I only have the bluebirds left to do.

Grandma's Easter Package

GQ insisted on being in the pictures, even though he didn't get a new outfit in the mail.  At least he's wearing overalls.  Grandma would be proud.

Top 7 Things About Attending the Natural History Museum Today

7.  Parallel Parking Downtown. - No, I am not being sarcastic.  Let me just say this: there are few things in life that I can actually call a talent without knowing there are a zillion people out there who can do it much, much, much better than me.  Parallel parking?  Oh yes, I have that down.  (I know, the talents I brought with me!)  This is due to the following reasons:  1) during my years living off campus at BYU, I owned an old school - translate HUGE - orange/red Thunderbird, and 2) I was trained by the amazing Julia Jorgenson to park the Beast.  While I may have driven on the curb more than once while parking during my 16-year-old driving test, I have come a long way from those pansy parking days.  Once - in the middle of LA - Justin could not get our rental car parked near a very yummy pizza restaurant.  I threw out a comment about my parking prowess and he dared to dare me to a challenge.  Let's just say I pulled that one off too.  (Insert maniac laughter)  And so, after successfully parking my big red family travelling van, I already had a high from accomplishing great things.  (Yes - little things excite me.)

6.  Watching M traverse the dead worm littered sidewalk. - I tried to get a video of this, (I forgot and shot it sideways) but I don't think I really "caught" the hilariousness of it.  M, apparently, does not like worms.  (Later she asked me if they hissed and were they biting her... maybe she thought they were snakes?)  First, she whined to ride in the stroller.  When that got a negative, she resorted to tiptoes and muttering.  Those worms are scary I tell you.

5.  Answering the following questions for EVERY SINGLE taxidermied animal in sight:

"Are those real animals?"
Yes.
"Are they dead?"
Yes.

And since this was a Natural History museum, you can imagine the amount of animals that necessitated this important exchange.  Finally, after one whole floor of "dead" questions I said:

"Everything here is real.  And everything here is dead. Okay????"

Then we went through the Native American exhibit.  You know, where they have life-size dioramas of Native American villages?  With people in them?

So yes... I had to eat those words.  Because as E put it:  "It is not nice to kill people, and put them in museums."

4.  The fact that GQ regularly left our family to join other families enjoying the museum.  Or how he fell backwards off of a chair onto one mother's lap.  Yep.  I'm tending my children.  Can't you tell?

3.  How when we discovered an auditorium and stage in the middle of the museum, my girls were just as entranced as I was.  I could barely drag them past it, they wanted to go dance on it so much.  And guess what?  I felt the same way.  I may be shy, but - once a performer, always a performer.  The stage is a wonderful place.

2.  Watching Justin dance with E on the sidewalk outside the museum.  Because the museum was across the street from Justin's office, he came out to eat a little snack with us.  Then he and E danced around the worms.  I watched one young co-ed smile as she walked by, and I thought - "Yes.  That's what you want.  A nice husband who will dance like a maniac in the middle of the street with his children.  Definitely a worthwhile goal in life.  Definitely a good thing."

1.  Not having to fold laundry because - sigh - I wasn't home.  I think that one is self-explanatory.  (This may or may not have been a major deciding factor as to whether we went to the museum or not.)

"Dolly"

E received an American Girl Doll two Christmases ago from her Grandma Christensen.

Lately she is obsessed with it.

She changes its clothes for bed-time, has moved a crib into their room, and even lets the doll sleep with her own precious pink blanky.

Last night it all came to a head.

Justin called for us to pick him up from school and I said we needed to leave right away rather than

"change the doll's clothes."

Not only was I wrong about my priorities, but I also called Felicity a D-O-L-L. 

How dare I?

I'm all for living in the imagination of a little girl's world and everything, but if I'm not allowed to call the doll a a doll, and if the doll gets to be taken care of before - I don't know - actual people... then I see this as a problem.

So, I said:  "E, I am sorry, but this a doll, and so we do have to take care of Daddy first.  He is waiting for us, and he is our Daddy. 

Says E:  "DOONNNN'TTTT CAAALLLLL HEEEERRRRR A DOOOLLLLL!!!!

Frankly, I find this a little unreasonable since usually I call her "Meee, I mean My Ellie", and Meg ..... "Eeee breath Meg."

Now I have to remember Felicity too?????  Even if I wanted to agree, I don't honestly think I could comply.

Anyway, we did work it all out without too much weeping and wailing, and we did pick up Daddy from school.

My favorite though, was at the very end of the conversation when I said:

"Are you going to be angry at all of us, and have to put Felicity (I said Felicity) away so we can be a happy family?  Or are you going to be happy now so you can keep her with you."

Said E:

"I want to keep my dolly."

I contained myself and did not point out her improper use of the word "dolly." 

That would have been very un-motherlike.  Although it might have been funny too.

I found this today when I was going through pictures...

... and it was just really funny to me.  Andy and GQ look so pleased, and Samson looks like he's just ready to get out of there.

What to say???

Conference today resulted in many things.  One of which included the following:

Of course, that was just the first session.  The second session resulted in this:

It looks so much better (meaning worse - very dark black marker all over their faces) in person.

And yes, GQ has started the squinty eye smile.

Priorities

So, I left my purse at a friend's house where we had lunch today.  I didn't realize until the kids were asleep for their naps... but I wasn't too worried.  It does have my phone in it, but since I answer the phone - um never - this was not a big deal.

But just now I realized my book is in it too.

Now that is grounds to wake everyone up and drag 'em to the car!  I HATE not having my book.

It's as bad as having my phone in the house with the ringer on.



***In answer to questions, the book is "Raising Your Child Not By Force But By Love."  Disclaimer wise, I think he gets a little kooky and "the end of the world is coming" in some parts, but his basic principles I enjoy:

1.  The Golden Rule
2. Have faith in the basic goodness of the individual (despite behavior).
3.  Forgive without limit.
4.  Repay anger and irrationality with kindness.
5.  Be generous.