The truth (don't tell Virginia...)

Seems that I have fallen off of the blog wagon. I've been trying to pack a lot into these final days of "summer" as Burke already started school this week. Yesterday was his first full day of first grade. I made him his favorite breakfast of scrambled eggs with cheese, toast, half a grapefruit and some orange juice. I kept my back turned as I made the eggs so he wouldn't see me crying. I also cried while walking him to school, watching him stand in line and then again when I walked home. It really wasn't as horrible as it sounds but I kept seeing other moms getting teary and then it would all start up again. The great news is that he is loving school and everything about it (he likes his "funny" teacher, eating lunch at school, recess, etc.). When he came home yesterday he walked in the door and said, "I have one thing to say: School Rocks!" Yes, Burke is growing up. He's always been "beyond his years" in some ways. He is a very deep thinker and asks so many questions every day. I love this about him and hope that his curiosity for life in general will always be a part of who he is. Part of our nightly bedtime routine is to visit (just the two of us) after his personal prayers. He tells me his favorite things of the day and he usually has a few questions and we visit about whatever is on his mind. Lately he has been asking lots of questions about Santa Claus. Yes, I know that it's July, but for some reason he has had Santa on the brain. He has mentioned several times that he's not sure what to believe because some kids believe in Santa and others believe that it is parents who give the presents. He asked about this again last week and so I finally asked Burke, "Well, what do you want to believe?" I fully expected him to say that he wants to believe in Santa, but his answer sort of surprised me. "I want to believe the truth," he said. I let it be and told him we would continue discussing this another time.

On Monday, for Family Home Evening, we discussed Priesthood blessings and talked about fathers' blessings in particular. Rob asked Burke if he would like a father's blessing as he would be starting a new school year the next day and we talked about how that had been a family tradition that we both grew up with. Burke declined the offer and was pretty stubborn about the whole thing. I gave him more background thinking he didn't really understand what it was (and that it wouldn't hurt) and even showed him pictures (paintings) of Christ blessing people when he was on the earth and explained that "giving blessings is something that Jesus established when he was on the earth and Dad has this same priesthood authority today." He refused again and so I told him that he had his agency and could make his own choice on the matter, but that it was disappointing to me that he wouldn't want this special blessing. His words broke my heart when he said, "Mom, I just don't believe it." I've pondered this statement for the past two days and finally sat down with him tonight and told him "the truth" about Santa Claus. I told him that this is a special tradition and that it's fun to believe in the magic of Santa and that he could still pretend to believe and also to never tell other kids (or his younger brothers) that he isn't real. I then told him that the things we have taught him about Heavenly Father and Jesus and His gospel are real and that I know these things to be true with my whole heart. He was pretty quiet and just nodded like he understood. I don't think that I can think of anything more important to me than raising my boys to love the Lord and the truth. Maybe this next Christmas will be extra special with a child old enough to focus on the true meaning of Christmas... I can only hope.

Firsts

Well, there is a first time for everything. Miracle of miracles, Hewitt got "caught being reverent" in church today. He also said the opening prayer in Primary and was very excited about it and did a good job. He continues to say sweet and funny things and is really growing up lately. When he said his personal prayers before going to bed on Friday night he said, "Heavenly Father, please have Jesus help me."

Here is Hewitt proudly holding his "CBR (Caught Being Reverent)" shield:

In this photo Hewitt is standing in front of our Rose of Sharon tree that just got its first blooms over the weekend...I've been anxiously waiting for this "first" for a few weeks now.

SYTYCD

Quick commentary for you "SYTYCD" fans. I thought that the stars were aligned for two numbers tonight. Can hip hop really get any better than Twitch and Comfort dancing to a Dave Scott number? Also, interesting that Will and Katee (my top two without question now) were dancing together on that Desmond Richardson piece...seriously amazing dancing there that I can't imagine any other couple even touching. Why, oh why did I quit those ballet lessons when I was six years old?

Memory Game

I've seen this latest "blog game" on a couple of different blogs now and I've decided to play along...

Rules:
1. Leave a comment on my blog of a memory that you and I have had together (it doesn't matter if you know me a little or a lot, just anything that you remember).

2. Re-post these instructions on your blog. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

Ouch

We experienced yet another unfortunate parenting moment yesterday. We had all been playing outside last night and when it was time for bed, we brought the boys in to bathe/shower and Rob took Tosh in the shower with him. Tosh loves water and even though we usually bathe him, he was having a blast in the shower and loves the water on his face. Rob put Tosh down and when they were about to get out Tosh slipped, fell, and split his chin open on the base of the door.

I called our good friend Tom who is an EMT/firefighter and he came right over. Poor Tom has gotten calls from me before, like once around midnight when Rob passed out in our bathroom, and on another occasion he removed Rob's stitches (due to a soccer injury) on our kitchen table. Tom took a look at Tosh and said that it needed stitches and he also recommended that Rob and I should either go to the hospital together or that just Rob should take him in. Since I had the choice experience of going by myself when we had to have Hewitt's forehead glued shut, I decided that at 8:30 on a Friday night I would stay and put our older kids down and let Rob take him in.

Judging by Rob's description of the experience, it's probably good that I wasn't there. Poor Tosh had to have six stitches and he was such a little fighter on the table. Rob said that by the end he sort of gave up fighting and completely stopped crying altogether. Tosh was exhausted and when they got home he fell asleep in my arms as I carried him up to bed. He was a little fussy this morning, and I don't blame him. I'd love to think that this is our last injury, but with three boys I fear that it won't be. My friend Erin once told me something like, "The main job of a mother of boys is just keeping them alive!" This is certainly on the top of my to-do list every day.

Lost and found

Last night Rob and I had the opportunity to go up to Girl's Camp. We brought dessert up with us and were able to visit with the girls and leaders and be part of their testimony meeting. The girls in our ward are awesome and I am always impressed at how friendly, loving and kind they are to each other (and to me). I have not been up to a Girl's Camp since my own 4th year of camp which I'm thinking was when I was 15...so not really that long ago (you can't hear me, but I'm clearing my throat right now).

About 30-40 min. before we were to walk out the door, I fed my older boys a snack at our kitchen table and was running around the house getting things ready to leave. You know, the normal things like setting out pajamas for the boys, changing my outfit, cleaning up the kitchen, etc. I started the dishwasher and was talking to Burke about where we were going and that we'd be back late after he was asleep. We'd been talking for a while when I asked, "Where is Hewitt?" I started calling for him and did not hear a response so I continued calling his name. I assumed that he would either be in his room playing or down in our basement playing but could not find him either place. I have never not been able to find Hewitt after a minute or two (c'mom, I mean our house isn't that big--how many places are there to look for a child?). I checked our yard, the cul-de-sac, some other yards and still could not find him. I was starting to panic internally and kept asking Burke questions like, "When did he leave the table? Did you see where he went? Did you hear one of the doors open?" Burke who was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing was in return asking me questions like, "Do you think Hewitt was kidnapped? Do you think that Hewitt found a secret trap door in our house?" and so on...

After doing what I felt was a thorough searching job I called for help. When my next-door-neighbor answered the phone, I completely broke down and said, "I can't find Hewitt!" She responded immediately and checked all of the backyards in our cul-de-sac (interestingly, no other immediate neighbors were home) and made several phone calls. I dialed another number and when a man answered I couldn't remember who I had called and said, "Is this Rob?" It was our ward's Elders Quorum President/husband to one of my best friends. At this point with others searching the neighborhood, I finally dropped to my knees and told Burke that we needed to pray. We said a prayer and I instantly felt a calm feeling and the reassurance that Hewitt was fine. I was very grateful for the peace I was feeling, but still could not account for my three-year-old! I called Rob (who was already on his way home), and again searched every closet, our van, the garbage and recycling bins, and every toy box, bench, and place that I could think of. I stepped outside and saw that Rob's sister (babysitting for us once again), Rob, and our Relief Society President (another great friend) were all pulling up to our house at the same time. I completely broke down when I saw these people and once again said, "I've lost Hewitt." Rob ran into the house and started yelling Hewitt's name and heard a faint, "What?"

Hewitt had been hiding for about 25-30 minutes in the far back corner of my walk-in closet behind all of our covered, long hanging items like formal dresses, winter coats, and my big full slip from my wedding. I had "looked" in this closet several times, but did not physically move the clothing as I did not think that he would be hiding on purpose. My recently potty-trained boy had hid because he had had an "accident" in his underwear. I can only assume that when he heard me calling and yelling for him that he thought he was in trouble? Accidents have been rare, and this of course brings up the point of "have I ever made him feel bad about having an accident before?" Of course I hugged and held him, and while I got him all cleaned up I told him that it's OK to have an accident, but that I was very worried about him and that he always needs to answer when I call for him.

I bore my testimony at camp last night and mentioned how grateful I am for prayer and for the comfort and peace that it can bring. How would I ever survive motherhood without prayer? I am so thankful for safe, healthy children and also for such great neighbors and friends (thanks so much guys!) who were so quick to respond and help me yesterday.

Prone to drama

It could be said that I was a dramatic child, teenager, and young adult. Is it a wonder that I sought out the stage and spotlight? I would try to entertain my family, friends, college roommates, etc. with my various stories and I must have found some thrilling element to my "soap opera-like" experiences and sometimes complicated dating and friendship woes.

These days, I try to avoid social "drama" and even though my life is pretty darn simple, uncomplicated, and arguably boring, I very much like it and now find myself trying to be somewhat of a peacemaker when sticky or uncomfortable social situations arise...

We just returned home from a family reunion and I ask, "Is it possible to get 28 people (or however many make up a fairly large group) living together in cramped, non-AC quarters and not experience a little drama?" I'm sure that most families, and I'm specifically talking about extended family groups including in-laws (or out-laws, if you prefer) know what I'm talking about here. I just hope that even with differing views, opinions, and various life experiences, we are able to keep looking for the good in each other and make the effort to improve relationships and give each other the benefit of the doubt.

In preparation for this reunion, I pretty much appointed myself (and one of Rob's sisters) to be the "activities committee" and we came up with a fairly thorough itinerary of fun events including plenty of planned group activities and lots of free-time as well. Sooo, not only am I prone to drama, but I'm very prone to taking charge at an event (sorry guys, this has got to drive my in-laws crazy). I think that I quite possibly have a deep-rooted desire to be "Julie" on "The Love Boat."

Julie McCoy, Cruise Director on...

In getting back to the reunion, I enjoyed plenty of moments. At the top of the list include watching Burke's reaction to seeing a fireworks show for the first time, a shopping outing with all the adult girls, and an entertaining and lighthearted "Little Known Talent Show" (for my talent I actually pulled out an old western costume covered in sequins and fringe that I wore almost 20 years ago and clogged!). The kids/cousins had a great time with each other and enjoyed playing pool, games in the yard and swimming. I didn't take many photos, but did get some good ones including a cute shot of the three babies in the baby pool. Aren't they such cuties?

Old habits die hard (and sometimes stain)

For as long as I can remember I've been somewhat of a "night owl." When I was five years old, my maternal grandparents lived with my family for a few months and I remember sneaking in to their room after I was supposed to be asleep to watch Trapper John MD with my Grandpa (well at least the beginning; all I remember is the theme song). Other early memories include wondering why everyone else got to stay up later than me (duh, I'm the youngest) and still being wide awake when my older sister (8 years older) would eventually come in to our shared room, turn on the light and her "new wave" music and start reading or doing homework. As I got older I would often be up late talking on the phone, listening to my own music, doing homework or talking with my brother Todd. In college, I was always up late and pulled so many all-nighters that it will probably shorten my life by at least a year or so... Even now, when I'm supposed to know better, I perpetually stay up later than I should and I really can't recall EVER going to bed before 10:00pm unless I was sick--really sick.

Should I be surprised that my 6-year-old is suddenly finding it "impossible" to get to sleep at night?

An inevitable consequence of staying up late is what I call "the seminary feeling." This is defined as the "sick" feeling you feel when you've stayed up way too late and then wake up way too early. This term stems (of course) from my high school years of getting up for early morning seminary. Well, Burke got up the other day with this very feeling. He mentioned that he felt really tired and didn't sleep well. He was on our leather couch (easy to clean) and then moved off of the couch just enough to vomit all over the carpet and rug.

Might I add that he had just had some red fruit punch to drink to which I'll say, "What kind of mom lets her kid drink fruit punch when they get up in the morning?" Well, me, I guess. He wasn't feeling too hot and said it sounded good to him--this mistake will not be repeated. I tried to be compassionate about the fact that he had just thrown up, but was really worried about the (now) red carpet and the fact that Tosh was running around. I secured the baby, told Burke to go into the bathroom to shower and then I got to work on the stain. I would like to insert my ode to Oxi Clean here:Oxi Clean, you once again did your thing and my carpet and rug look as good as new. Thanks!

Burke felt just fine the rest of the day and so I am left to conclude that this incident was due to lack of sleep. Thankfully, he is starting to be able to sleep in ("sleeping in" means past 8:00am around here) which is helpful with summer (lighter later) and with school out... I've often thought about how getting our boys to eat well (quantity) and sleep well are currently two of our biggest challenges. The irony is that I know that in just a few years we'll have three teenage boys who won't stop eating and we will have a hard time getting them out of bed in the morning... As for me, I don't see my habits changing much. Currently, I stay up late to enjoy the "quiet time" after the kids get to bed and get up early because the kids are up early. Down the road I will be up late because I'll be waiting up for my kids to get home and will be up early because, well, because I'll be "0ld" and won't be able to sleep in!