Gratitude Frontier Style

I have a lot of friends who are good about posting something they're grateful for every day of November.  I don't really have the social media presence for that. Still, I've been thinking a lot about little things I'm especially thankful for this time of year, and thought it would be nice to list a few. I have a big-time habit of thinking about early settlers and pioneers and the contrast between our experience and theirs. These items stem from those musings.

Image from Google.com

1) Fleece sheets. It was 10 degrees outside last night, and our over-the-garage bedroom is always pretty  chilly. I picture a drafty log cabin on the same sort of night and think of shivering atop a straw-stuffed mattress beneath thin, musty quilts. As I crawl onto our pillow top queen with snugly soft sheets that smell of Downy, I realize I am living the life of a princess.

2) Food that actually tastes good. I made a batch of pumpkin chocolate chip bread yesterday, and eating a piece warm out of the oven, thought, "This probably tastes better than anything an early settler ever ate in their entire lives." Not that I'm some great cook...there's just only so much you can make with cornmeal, lard, and squirrel meat.

 3) Christmas music. I have learned pre-Thanksgiving Christmas music is a very polarizing topic. Some people are intensely devoted to keeping Christmas outside of November, but we're okay with a little preseason spirit around here. Anyway, if settlers wanted to hear music, they had to make it themselves, spy on neighboring cabins, or sponsor an event featuring local talent - which is always a gamble.

4) Hot water heaters. Our boys love baths, and get them even when they're not really dirty. I think about a frontierswoman with a brood of dirt-crusted kids who had to heat water over a fire to bathe her little ones in what soon becomes a tepid tub of filth. And I'm sure the water didn't always get heated...can you imagine wrangling screaming children into a cold bath? A hot shower is a simple pleasure I don't take for granted.

5) Body wash, toothpaste, and deodorant. Because sometimes you want to smooch your man with the confidence you smell better than the livestock.

6) Washers/dryers/microwaves/dishwashers/refrigerators/vacuums, etc. I love them all so much. I wonder if  matronly homesteaders ever fantasized about these sorts of devices as their hands cracked and bled doing laundry in the cold creek. I push my buttons in their honor.

7) Our reliable cars. Olden day folk had to mount (or hitch up) an animal if they wanted to go into town. Or walk. Which wouldn't be so bad if they weren't wearing such terrible footwear. Pieces of leather and raw hide cobbled together offers little in the way of cushion or arch support. You know those things gave crazy blisters! Which leads me to our next item:

8) Comfortable shoes and clothing.  I bet there were some good homespun offerings, but not THAT good. Your lumpy wool sweater may be warm, but it itches and is likely ill-fitting. Give me cotton polyester blends produced by the professionals in Malaysia.

9) TOILET PAPER.

10) Communication technology. I get that technology is a double edged sword, but the ability to send reliable messages and talk face-to-face with family living thousands of miles away is pretty incredible. True, the pony express may have enjoyed a better reputation than the U.S. Postal Service, but before these were well established, correspondence had to be one slow, miserable headache wrought with doubt and uncertainty. Is William a bad letter writer, or was he trampled by buffalo? Meanwhile, I get annoyed when Andrew doesn't text me back.

I could write a long list of why our predecessors were better off than we are, but instead I'll just revel in the incredible comforts and conveniences the 21st century affords. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Master P: Full Throttle

Preston is 15 months old today! I am blown away by the fact that at the very beginning of last year, Asher was technically 1, and Preston was just a glob of cells. Even though time is moving fast, I have quickly forgotten the implications of having a mobile child who wants to experiment and discover, but doesn't understand English. This is a post from when Asher was Preston's age. And while Asher had just turned 2 when this doosie happened, Master P has already created a similar scene.

Preston's little personality seems to be blossoming at high speed all of a sudden...and by personality, I really mean attitude. This boy has always been the sweet, easy type of baby who only cries when he's tired, hungry, or cutting a tooth. Once highly agreeable, his own little will seems much more defined lately. He gives off the air of an early colonist who wants to declare independence, but stays his hand for fear the motherland will put a trade embargo on goldfish. He needs us for now.

Our number two has a problem with talent for biting and hitting, which are excellent skills for settling the savage-filled new world......oh wait, Asher is the only person he sees. Poor, peace-loving big brother is often the object of Preston's non-malicious, albeit aggressive exploration. It can be painful.

The silver lining for Asher comes from watching me scold someone who, miraculously....isn't him. The following scene unfolds on a regular basis: I hear an incensed shriek from the play area, and drop what I'm doing to find Asher with a wet, indented ring on his arm. As I approach, Preston looks up with eyes full of exhilarated delight at the taste of human flesh, and continues the assault by repeatedly smacking his brother.  He is full of joy throughout the attack. I storm over and reprimand a most innocent-looking guilty party, and catch sight of a suppressed smile playing at the lips of the victim. Finally: Asher has a companion with whom to split my wrath. There's a new bottom in the time out chair.

"I'm not in trouble! HE is!"

Here are some images from Preston's birthday celebration with my family - three months and four teeth ago.

We'll have to learn how to navigate this independent streak and love of playful violence.

And this face will continue to ensure we fail at being too stern.

The Boys: Everything You've Wanted to Know

These little boys make life so full. I keep saying to Andrew - "Are we not SO lucky?!" We get less sleep, have more messes to clean up, more laundry to do, more noise to quiet, and I have food and human tears in my hair right now, but we are totally living the dream. Seriously grateful for this family of ours.

 

And since these little men are are always changing so quickly, I thought I'd record what they are like at this moment in time.

 Can't believe how big Asher looks here

Asher...

- Is three and a half, but really seems four.

- Enjoys school, can write his name, and LOVES sounding out words.

- Has daily fights with a kid named Jacourion (sp?) over sitting on the "A". Reminds us that "Jacourion is NOT my best friend."

- Continues to have a wild imagination.

- Has started saying "Yes ma'am" and "Yes sir" after just one family home evening lesson on speaking kindly   a few weeks ago. We'll take it.

- Loves playing Angry Birds

- Sings the pop songs "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees, and "Gone, Gone Gone," by Phil Philips. The latter he divides into alternating parts and tells me which he'll sing and which I'll sing.

Belting it out

- Has a ridiculous memory.
- Loves bath time with Preston, but freaks out if P migrates to "his spot" next to the faucet. He insists little brother occupies the "caboose." When I take Preston out of the tub, always shouts, "Don't take Preston! He's my best friend!"
- Still takes an afternoon nap
- Loves the show Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood (kind of an updated tribute to Mr. Rodger's Neighborhood - we love it)
- Continues to love his snowman blanket from great grandma Yvonne
- Is obsessed with Subway, of all places. We never go there, but he notices every time we pass one. "MOM! A SUBWAY!!! Can we go to that place sometimes?" Andrew and I ate Subway 5 times a week in college, so *dry heave*...maybe.
- Has a preoccupation with things on the right. Example: I hand him half a sandwich, and he looks at it uncertainly and asks, "Is that the one on the right, or left?" If I answer left, he shakes his head, waves his arm and says, "No thank you, I just want the one on the right."
- Despises being called "bud." Prefers to we call him "sport".



Preston...
- Is 14 months old....but really seems 9 months. In fifth grade, I distinctly remember my friend saying about a boy in our class, "He can talk the talk, but he can't walk the walk." She was wearing a Taz sweatshirt, but I believed her anyway. Preston also talks the talk...among other things, he says "hi", "ball", "eyes", "more", "that", "car", and "gentle." But he still doesn't walk the walk. He crawls, climbs and has begun standing, but seems to be in little danger of walking soon. We have decided to post pone a full blown freak out until he's18 months (although I realized Andrew and I were talking about it too much when on our walk yesterday, Asher asked, "What's 'gross motor'?"), and are enjoying not being in the bumps and bruises stage.
- Is a fantastic eater. Current favorites are carrots, cheerios, blueberries and broccoli.
- Has the sweetest way of always laying his head down on you.
- Thinks everything is funny - especially Asher.
- Says, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" when something novel presents itself.
- Loves to color and usually even holds a crayon the right way.

 

- Steals my phone and face times people who I know to varying degrees. We were in a study group together 6 years ago? Thought you might like to see me with no make up and meet my family.
- Is very interested in tools and how things work.
- Likes to re-do what he undoes and put things away (plugging things back in, putting blocks back in their bucket, etc.). Somewhere there's a baby girl who's going to be very happy someday. 
- Is super cuddly
- Loves "driving" toy cars around, throwing balls, flipping switches, and pushing buttons
- Always wants to go outside.
- Could play with an open dishwasher for hours.
- Is very into feeding you, and is not fooled by fake bites. He will not relent until he sees you are actually chewing that mucus covered banana.
- Still thinks mommy hung the moon.
- Loves giving open mouthed kisses, preferably on the lips
- Doesn't know his own strength. It's tricky, because one second you're enjoying a tender moment with your baby, and the next he's head butted you so hard you can't remember your zip code and need cosmetic dentistry.
- Will let you wipe his nose and even tries to blow.
- Has a talent for accessorizing - actually likes to wear hats, sunglasses, etc. The other day I heard giggling coming from my room and found he had gotten into my jewelry, made a headdress out of a necklace, then began laughing wildly at his new reflection.

- Loves playing with mommy's make up. Gets visibly upset when it's taken away.

 

  Sweetest brothers sharing a chocolate shake

This is what our happiness looks like. They make every day so much brighter.

Halloween 2K13

Halloween is a holiday I either dread or look forward to each year, depending on whether or not I've thought of our costumes. I would say "we", but finally realized this year that Halloween costumes are ultimately my responsibility. Andrew is a fantastic sport and will always play along, but will never start the "So what should we be this year?" conversation. I think this is due to the fact he's a man.

We've had some costume fun for several years now, thanks to Andrew's mullet (see montage below), but trying to think of inexpensive costumes for a family of four that coordinate AND incorporate the hairpiece is a tall order.

Here is what we came up with this year...I brainstormed this idea in bed one night and started laughing so hard as I imagined Andrew that I woke him up. 

A cop, convicts, and our back of loot. We had everything already but the orange jumpsuits (which came with handcuffs), plastic badges (one dollar for a four pack!) and fake money to pin onto Preston's re-purposed potato sack. We wore these to our ward's Fall Festival a few weeks ago, and people literally did not recognize Andrew. He looked like the world's sketchiest investigator. I dared him to go running along the side of the road in this get up, but he was too scared the police dispatchers would get slammed with calls.

Asher loved being a police man. He is at this magical age where he isn't insisting on being a superhero, and will basically get excited about whatever we tell him he's going to be. Bad parents?

 Preston has no idea what's going on. So it's perfect.

The night of Halloween, it was super blustery and rainy. I had to bring our jack o lanterns inside because the wind kept blowing them out. Andrew got home late from clinic, after [the dedicated] kids had already been trick or treating for a while. This was actually great, because Asher LOVED getting to had out candy to trick or treaters. Anytime there was a lull, he'd ask "Are more kids gonna come, mom?"

When Andrew finally arrived, he threw on his costume, we snapped a few quick pics, then we divided and conquered. He and Preston headed in costume to Chipotle to get $3 "Booritos" for our dinner, and I took Asher trick or treating around the neighborhood. Last year we had similar bad weather, and so I kept then-baby Preston indoors most of the night while Andrew and Asher collected sugar from strangers. It was fun to take a turn.

Honestly, it was such a good time. I love to see my child get so excited, knock on friends' doors, and meet new neighbors. We only stayed out for a half hour, then headed home to eat our discounted dinner. Andrew bolted to use a free haircut coupon (he'd been keeping his hair long to enhance the appearance of his mullet :) that expired that night, at a place that closed in 25 minutes. Asher got to pick 3 treats ("because I'm 3 years old!"), and we did a quick bath and bedtime routine. 

Then I assessed our candy situation. I realized I am a giant idiot for buying Snickers and Kit Kats (my favorites) to hand out.  As I noticed the six empty wrappers next to me and felt disgusting, I vowed to go the Bit O Honey route next year.

 Preston holding up a sucker in his skeleton PJ's - I love how slimming they are.

And behold, a mullet montage of our costumes in years past. The shotgun wedding, Russian gymnasts, NASCAR fans, and convicts. 

We love Halloween. 

But will dread it until we think of our costumes for next year. Let me know if you have any suggestions. :)

Color Me Old

So my body is breaking down. The decent into old age has begun, as evidenced by my grouchiness toward street youths, joint pain, and love of hard candies.  But I've decided not to surrender without a good struggle...I am dedicated to slathering my face in creams, eating foods that grew on a plant, and to staying active. 

I like to run. Traditionally I do it in an effort to be less fat, but lately, what's motivated me more than anything else is the thought that someday I might not be able to run. At least not without hurting a lot later. So I want to soak up the feeling of my own legs carrying me swiftly (or not so swiftly) anywhere I please.

I do not aspire to ever run a 26.2 mile marathon, but I did a half a couple years ago that I enjoyed and would do again. I'd never run any other race, so conference weekend, ran a little 5K with some friends. I only went on a couple runs to "train," but I am always really good about carbo loading every day in case something like this comes up. Have you heard of Color Me Rad? It's the race where people throw color bombs (dyed corn starch) at you throughout the course, and everyone gets completely hyped up about it like it's the best thing to ever happen to them. 

I was surprised to discover I don't own a white t-shirt...so had to borrow a giant ugly one from Andrew the morning of.

 It was pretty fun...and they did a good job of pumping you up beforehand by blasting Zumba music and having pro dancers going crazy onstage. I love to dance, and do it almost involuntarily anytime the music is right. But when someone took a secret cell phone video of me busting a move - I mean, really going for it - then posted it to our Relief Society Facebook page, I realized I was not a gifted dancer. Like...at all. 

Suddenly I felt pretty good about old age robbing me of my ability to move.

Earned Satisfaction

Asher learned how to snap his fingers today. He'd been working at it for over a month with no real success. Then as we were driving home from the park today, I heard a little "pop", followed by a jubilant, "Mom! I did it! I snappted my fingers!"

The boy has been positively floating ever since.

We celebrated with hugs and high fives at home, and I jumped to teach the obvious lesson:

"See, Asher? You worked really hard, and even though you couldn't snap at first, you practiced and practiced and then learned something new! Don't you feel happy?"

He smiled broadly and nodded. Then thinking a moment, said, "Mommy, I'm a smart boy, because I do smart things."

I agreed (not that his logic was perfect), but again emphasized his practice and perseverance. It's fine to feel bright, but I always want to attribute our children's successes to their efforts. Because being "smart" isn't enough: life takes work.

Asher's excitement and pride bubbled over as he snapped the first time for his Daddy. When night time came, he lay in bed with eyes closed obediently, but one little hand raised, unable to resist the urge to enjoy what he'd labored so long to learn.

In the grand scheme of things, it's a pretty tiny triumph (although at three and a half, he's way ahead of me. I distinctly remember being unable to snap in Kindergarden...which was an embarrassing handicap, because almost every dumb little song we sang called for snaps somewhere, and I had to be sly and fake it). But seeing the pure joy of a child achieving a goal was just the reminder I needed today.

We are always working on something. Always doing, trying, becoming. Sometimes the journey to achievement isn't "snappy." Sometimes the road presents distraction, doubt and discouragement. Sometimes we question why we're on the road at all.  But prayerfully leaning on the Lord and trusting the Spirit's guidance brings such profound peace and reassurance. With His help, we can do hard things.

So here's to work. And to remembering it's what builds us. Here's to the joy of arriving, and to earned satisfaction.

Everyday Snapshot

What we're...

Reading: "Ender's Game." I planned to read it anyway for book club, and since Andrew and I have always wanted to read a novel together, started with this one. Looked forward to reading with each other every day - recommendations for our next one? Anyway, we really liked the book. The movie comes out next month and we are so pumped to make a date night out of it. Lesson learned: Making time to enjoy things together goes a long way in a relationship.

Here's the trailer for those of you not living with husbands who play it every other day:

Listening to: Preston dropping things all around the house and saying "Uh-oh!" It's a cute stage.

Snacking on: Jello. I know, JELLO! I had never made it for my family. Then a couple of months ago, Asher begged for some at the store, and I mustered up 68 cents worth of generosity. Let me tell you, these boys are a little obsessed with it. Asher loves to make it with me (and by "make", I mean dumping a packet of powder into a bowl and stirring in some water. Our aprons are probably overkill.), and to offset the guilt of feeding my kids non-nutritious blobs of sugar, artificial colors and flavors, I call it a sensory experience, and pour it into 2 ounce containers so they only get a little poison at a time. ...Okay, so I'm not really the concerned, organic, vegan, dye-free, all-natural, local, sustainable, blah blah blah parent I want to be. My kids love Jello. Whatever.

Artificial flavor of the day: Peach

Proud of: Asher doing so well with preschool. We had some misgivings about sending him at first (Isn't he a little young to be sending out into the world? What's he going to pick up from other kids?), but most of our concerns subsided after he began smiling and waving to us as he left. Very grateful he is enjoying structured learning and playtime with other kids a few days a week. And I love how he comes home excited to tell me about his morning and show me what he worked on. His teachers are great too. Yesterday I was talking to him about them, and he said, "Miss Sue is not my favorite. She tells me naughty things." Masking my concern, I asked, "Like what?" Brow furrowed, nose in a snarl, he replied, "Like, 'We don't hit.'" Yep, she sounds awful.

 Marching into school for the first time - September 4th, 2013

Gearing up for: Halloween. We kind of copped out last year, so are actually planning family costumes to pay penance. As with anytime we've dressed up, I'm most excited to see Andrew's ensemble. ;)


Sick of: Preston pooping in the tub. SERIOUSLY. At first, we kind of chuckled since as a baby, Andrew was well-known for having pooped during baths; guess we had it coming. Ha. Ha. But in the past week Preston has let loose in the tub five times and cleaning up the disgusting mess is getting old (though watching Andrew dry heave when it's his turn is NOT. Ahhhhhahah...). Asher is the real victim. The poor chap is always oblivious for a few moments he is bathing alongside chunks of his little brother's solid waste, then he notices and is horrified. Maybe we should dial back on the Jello.

Questioning: Whether poop is blog appropriate.