Monday, October 12, 2009
Beach 2009- Part 2
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Beach 2009- Part 1
Yes, we finally made it to the beach, and yes, I'm finally writing about it. Our numbers were smaller this year. With spouses joining the military and moving, kids in school, and my younger sister about to give birth to number three, it was just us and my parents. We did, however, bring along E's cousin, Wazzah, so the girls could play. They are the best of friends, afterall.
A and I traveled with all the kids to North Myrtle Beach, along with all our gear. It was a VERY snug ride...and not so quiet. Thank goodness Wazzah came with her DVD player. Can we say sanity saver?
A and I traveled with all the kids to North Myrtle Beach, along with all our gear. It was a VERY snug ride...and not so quiet. Thank goodness Wazzah came with her DVD player. Can we say sanity saver?
Surprising Tidbits on E
E has always liked her vegetables. She will consume her carrots, peas or green beans before anything else on her plate and then ask for more. A few times, much to E's astonishment, I have left a few veggies on my plate. She either asks to eat mine or she'll sneak them onto her plate to gobble up. For breakfast, E loves to have her oatmeal with vanilla yogurt. When snack time rolls around, she is quick to make a request for carrot and celery sticks, cheese or pretzels.
E, starting a very young age, has also enjoyed Conference. Maybe it's the singing that keeps her attention, afterall, she wonders what color the choir will wear each session. But she can recognize the Prophet and his counselors...Uchtdorf being her favorite. Last night as we were helping E clean the bonus room, we offered to replay the choir singing from Conference. "No. I want to hear President Uchtdorf again."
Today she asked for a snack as she was digging for the popcorn in the pantry. "President Uchtdorf said this was good for me." She smiled as she held up the popcorn. It took a second to catch on, but she was referring to President Uchtdorf's talk when he mentioned we [Mormons] are people known for singing of trees that produce popcorn.
I got a good laugh.
E, starting a very young age, has also enjoyed Conference. Maybe it's the singing that keeps her attention, afterall, she wonders what color the choir will wear each session. But she can recognize the Prophet and his counselors...Uchtdorf being her favorite. Last night as we were helping E clean the bonus room, we offered to replay the choir singing from Conference. "No. I want to hear President Uchtdorf again."
Today she asked for a snack as she was digging for the popcorn in the pantry. "President Uchtdorf said this was good for me." She smiled as she held up the popcorn. It took a second to catch on, but she was referring to President Uchtdorf's talk when he mentioned we [Mormons] are people known for singing of trees that produce popcorn.
I got a good laugh.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Amen!
Back in July, E gave her first talk in Primary. The topic was "How I Can Strengthen My Family." She was so excited for her moment to stand in front of all the children...so were her parents. E had been practicing for this talk well before she knew she would deliver it. For months, E has played "church" where she basically re-enacts Primary. She teaches the lesson, becomes the chorister and sings songs, gives each talk and prayer. So, for this momentous occasion, as any proud parent would do, A took pictures and recorded the event.


E told me how she helps our family. We took pictures of E doing these things around the house and then printed them out. We put tongue depressors on the pictures so she could hold them up for her talk. She was fabulous. It was hard to hear her speak, though. As I whispered each sentence in her ear, she whispered to the audience. So cute. She really was so cute. She even brought a few teachers to tears. No kidding.
E told me how she helps our family. We took pictures of E doing these things around the house and then printed them out. We put tongue depressors on the pictures so she could hold them up for her talk. She was fabulous. It was hard to hear her speak, though. As I whispered each sentence in her ear, she whispered to the audience. So cute. She really was so cute. She even brought a few teachers to tears. No kidding.
This is what she shared:
I say nice words like please and thank you.
I say nice words like please and thank you.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Taking Over
O is always sitting wherever he wants...on any chair, with strangers, on heads, on your lap while changing brother's diaper...anywhere. He just backs up and plops down. It's quite humorous.
A Little Chat
Friday, August 7, 2009
Noise!
As we scramble within our small pew at church, I'm often wondering if I'm going to hear a single word from the speaker. With 3 small squirmy kids all over the bench, climbing on each other and on A and I as if we were jungle gyms, and screaming for a snack, a toy, the hymnal, a crayon, daddy's tie, sippy cup, a book, mommy's bracelet...everything...it's hard to listen to anything but what's directly in your ear.
I'm becoming one of the thousands of mothers who question What's the point? as I wrestle one of the boys. I sweat bullets trying to keep all of our belongings in our pew, rather than being missile launched into the air, narrowly missing several heads surrounding us. We try our best to keep the noise down, especially the sudden screeches, cries, or O's famous belches. That's all on top of your average whisperings from parent to parent or parent to child. E has been a complete angel until recently and we think it's because she wants to join in on the mayhem for attention. I'm not sure, but we are quietly reminding her to whisper, to sit up, or to not climb on us while we have a brother in our lap. The boys dislike the quiet whisper. They do a full back bend trying to get as far away as possible or they just put their hand in your face and push you away.
We are not the type to sit around while our kids make a ton of noise either. It bugs me when parents just sit there while their child continues to wail. If we feel an outburst won't be tamed quickly, we take our kids out so we don't cause an even bigger scene. It's hard not to have eyes on us though. Like I said, their screams and so forth are sporadic and sudden. So I feel like eyes are on us quite a bit, especially since our ward is the size of a branch with only a few small babies and a handful of small children E's age. Most noise, if any, comes from our corner of the chapel and when it does, people literally jump in their seats from being startled...those poor elderly ladies.
Sorry I whisper to the victims sitting nearby. After all, who knows if they got much out of the service, especially with objects being hurled at them. In reply I hear, Oh no, I don't hear them...Oh, that's ok...I could hear just fine...They sure are playful...and the best one...That's music to my ears. Sweet aren't they? They're just lying though. Sweet liars. They really don't want to be near us, nor hear one more whine.
And that's just the first hour. I'm so exhausted at this point. Two more hours to go...What's the point? my inner devilish friend may say. As A and I haul our gear and the boys to the scout room, the farthest room in the church building, we then split up. I usher the boys into the scout room and barricade the door with chairs as A whisks E off to the bathroom and then to her Primary class. The boys go wild...climbing on chairs, hitting the file cabinet, playing hide and seek in the curtains, and trying to tear down the flag stand and frames on the wall. I don't really tell them to hush during this hour, unless it's a top of the lung scream but I do encourage some self-control. A and I get many visitors...people passing in the hallway...who all stop to chit chat, ask boys verses girls questions, or just shake their head and laugh at us...I'm sure they mean well.
Third hour. I take O to Relief Society where all the ladies used to want to hold him. Now they just wave or smile at him because they know he's a wild gorilla in the process of being tamed. It is here that I gently force my baby to fall into a silent slumber. Well, basically silent...he snores like a grizzly bear. It usually takes a great deal of strength, constant rocking, and 3-4 verses of an opening hymn. During this time, W is ravaging the Bishop's office, which is where my husband teaches the young men. A admits it's distracting, especially for the young men, but the Bishop doesn't mind. In fact, he really likes having W around.
Everyone says their last Amen, O wakes up, and the family is reunited. Once we're home, it's snacks and naps...for everyone. We're exhausted! Sundays, along with every day, I struggle with my kids- teaching to share, not to throw toys or food, to be gentle and not hit, to take turns, and be safe...standing on the table is not a good idea, nor is eating a handful of rocks...but I'm constantly reminding them of the Noise! Noise! Noise! I'm trying to keep the noise to a safe ear decibel level. Did you know that a crying baby and a shout in the ear are 110 dB and a noisy squeeze toy is around 135 dB, which is more intense than an ambulance at 120 dB?! But what about the screaming baby? That's not on the charts. I'm beginning to worry about hearing loss.
Anyway...I'm rambling. So, fellow friends and mothers who have lived and learned, what say ye? Please share the advice of ways you have quieted your children, how they learned to behave in a pew, or how you kept your sanity on the Sabbath or any other day. Will my constant nagging, I mean, teaching ever sink in? Do you have any ideas? What?? I can't hear you.
I'm becoming one of the thousands of mothers who question What's the point? as I wrestle one of the boys. I sweat bullets trying to keep all of our belongings in our pew, rather than being missile launched into the air, narrowly missing several heads surrounding us. We try our best to keep the noise down, especially the sudden screeches, cries, or O's famous belches. That's all on top of your average whisperings from parent to parent or parent to child. E has been a complete angel until recently and we think it's because she wants to join in on the mayhem for attention. I'm not sure, but we are quietly reminding her to whisper, to sit up, or to not climb on us while we have a brother in our lap. The boys dislike the quiet whisper. They do a full back bend trying to get as far away as possible or they just put their hand in your face and push you away.
We are not the type to sit around while our kids make a ton of noise either. It bugs me when parents just sit there while their child continues to wail. If we feel an outburst won't be tamed quickly, we take our kids out so we don't cause an even bigger scene. It's hard not to have eyes on us though. Like I said, their screams and so forth are sporadic and sudden. So I feel like eyes are on us quite a bit, especially since our ward is the size of a branch with only a few small babies and a handful of small children E's age. Most noise, if any, comes from our corner of the chapel and when it does, people literally jump in their seats from being startled...those poor elderly ladies.
Sorry I whisper to the victims sitting nearby. After all, who knows if they got much out of the service, especially with objects being hurled at them. In reply I hear, Oh no, I don't hear them...Oh, that's ok...I could hear just fine...They sure are playful...and the best one...That's music to my ears. Sweet aren't they? They're just lying though. Sweet liars. They really don't want to be near us, nor hear one more whine.
And that's just the first hour. I'm so exhausted at this point. Two more hours to go...What's the point? my inner devilish friend may say. As A and I haul our gear and the boys to the scout room, the farthest room in the church building, we then split up. I usher the boys into the scout room and barricade the door with chairs as A whisks E off to the bathroom and then to her Primary class. The boys go wild...climbing on chairs, hitting the file cabinet, playing hide and seek in the curtains, and trying to tear down the flag stand and frames on the wall. I don't really tell them to hush during this hour, unless it's a top of the lung scream but I do encourage some self-control. A and I get many visitors...people passing in the hallway...who all stop to chit chat, ask boys verses girls questions, or just shake their head and laugh at us...I'm sure they mean well.
Third hour. I take O to Relief Society where all the ladies used to want to hold him. Now they just wave or smile at him because they know he's a wild gorilla in the process of being tamed. It is here that I gently force my baby to fall into a silent slumber. Well, basically silent...he snores like a grizzly bear. It usually takes a great deal of strength, constant rocking, and 3-4 verses of an opening hymn. During this time, W is ravaging the Bishop's office, which is where my husband teaches the young men. A admits it's distracting, especially for the young men, but the Bishop doesn't mind. In fact, he really likes having W around.
Everyone says their last Amen, O wakes up, and the family is reunited. Once we're home, it's snacks and naps...for everyone. We're exhausted! Sundays, along with every day, I struggle with my kids- teaching to share, not to throw toys or food, to be gentle and not hit, to take turns, and be safe...standing on the table is not a good idea, nor is eating a handful of rocks...but I'm constantly reminding them of the Noise! Noise! Noise! I'm trying to keep the noise to a safe ear decibel level. Did you know that a crying baby and a shout in the ear are 110 dB and a noisy squeeze toy is around 135 dB, which is more intense than an ambulance at 120 dB?! But what about the screaming baby? That's not on the charts. I'm beginning to worry about hearing loss.
Anyway...I'm rambling. So, fellow friends and mothers who have lived and learned, what say ye? Please share the advice of ways you have quieted your children, how they learned to behave in a pew, or how you kept your sanity on the Sabbath or any other day. Will my constant nagging, I mean, teaching ever sink in? Do you have any ideas? What?? I can't hear you.
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