Just a Thought

Do so many people have blogs because they secretly want to be famous?

Cleverness of Others

My last two posts were all about the funny things that Peter says. Lets be honest, most of what I write has to do with what Peter says. I include his verbal gems on here for three reasons:

1. It's funny.
2. I know that the grandparents (my parents and Bryan's parents) read my blog and love getting Peter stories.
3. I want to remember them. I tell myself that whatever he's said is so funny that of course I'll remember. But I don't always. And that makes me a little sad.
   

But today I started to wonder if doing this follows my original goal for this blog. Does including these things really help my intellectual prowess?

Yes.

Being clever isn't just saying funny things. I think a major part of it is recognizing the cleverness around you. So, by including Peter's quips, I am being clever, because I realize and choose to document just how funny he is. And I think I'm a little smarter for it.

Grandparent's Day

Yesterday was Grandparent's Day. This is kind of a funny holiday because, really, isn't everyday grandparent's day? Nevertheless, I am glad that we have a specific day to let our grandmas and grandpas know how wonderful they are.

Peter and I made a card to take to Bryan's grandparent's. After I wrote the text I told Peter he could color it. After using his blue crayon all over the inside of the card he held it up and said, "I wrote 'Your Secret Admirer.com'."

My mom told me that in her education classes they were taught that the people of her generation are immigrants to technology, but their students are natives. Peter is definitely a native.

Playing House

Last night we went to Bryan's grandparent's house for Sunday dinner. Peter loves going and especially enjoys playing with the toys in the basement. Bryan was down there with him last night when Peter and his cousin Oliver (who is two years older) had the following exchange:

Oliver: I'm going to play the daddy. Peter you be the mommy.
Peter: No, I'm a boy. I will be the daddy.
Oliver: No, I'm the bigger kid, and that means you do what I say.
Peter: I have the duck. (Holds up duck decoy.)
Oliver: Okay.

I tell you, with those persuasion skills, he should be a lawyer.

Photo Shoot

My sister-in-law Amanda is in the Navy and sent Peter this cute shirt. We wanted her to see the fruit of her shopping labor by sending her a picture of Peter standing and smiling and showing off his new shirt. Much like his dad, he doesn't perform on command. I'm including all the pictures we took because I think it tells an important story about how hard it is to get a two-year-old to be still for more than a moment.

Thanks for the shirt Amanda!

To Tell the Truth

Last night my visiting teacher came over. I had purposely made the appointment for late in the evening hoping that Peter would be asleep. No such luck. I thought he had nodded off because I hadn't heard ANYTHING from his room for an hour. When I put Cooper down and went to make sure my house was presentable before the appointment I looked into Peter's room. I think he might have been right on the verge of sleep, but my intrusion pulled him back into a fully conscious state. I told him that my visiting teacher would be there any minute, so I was going to pull his door closed so we wouldn't bother him. His room is between the kitchen and the family room (not an ideal location for a boy who has trouble sleeping anyway) so he heard when she arrived. He kept calling out from his room. "Mommy, are you on the rocking chair?" "Mommy, is your visiting teacher sitting on the couch?" "Mommy, what is she saying now?" I finally went in and got him. He got to sit with me in the rocking chair for the visit. My VT asked Peter how old he was.

VT: How old are you Peter?
Peter: I'm 4.
Me: What? No you're not. How old are you really?
Peter: I'm 5.
Me: Peter! How old are you?
Peter: I'm 12.

He thought this was terribly funny. To be honest, so did I. It reminds a little bit of my brother Ian. He tells funny, funny stories. Once when he was telling a particularly tall-tale I stopped him, asking if it was true. He exhaled, cocked his head to one side, and said, "Margot, sometimes I say things that aren't true. That doesn't mean it's a lie. It's just not true." Hmm... I think I may be using a different definition of true. Anyway, I still tease him about this. (Which is probably what I'm doing right now.) Maybe that whole spinning-of-yarns thing is genetic.

I'll have to go ask my 12-year-old about it.

What's In a Name?

Bryan asked me the other day if I liked Cooper's name. I didn't answer right away. Bryan, while holding a sleeping Cooper, said that he did. I feel kind of bad that I didn't say "Yes, of course, I love his name!" I know that we're not going to change it at this point and that I will probably be used it to it eventually, but I'm not quite there yet.

We had a terrible time coming up with the names of both of our boys. With Peter we had a great girl name picked out (we still have it and still like it) but no boy name. We chose not to find out if Peter was a boy or a girl until he was born, and because we couldn't agree on a boy name, I joked that that meant it must be a boy. Peter was due on Christmas Eve. On December 23 we went to see The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I love the books and while sitting there watching the movie I started thinking about what a wonderful character Peter Pevensie was. You know, great older brother, strong moral compass, High King of Narnia, etc. Anyway, it was there in the movie theater that I really thought that the baby's name might be Peter. I floated the idea to Bryan and he didn't like it at first. Neither of us like Pete so much, so we were apprehensive to use the name Peter. But it wouldn't leave my mind. About an hour before Peter was born Bryan looked at me and said "I think the baby's name is Peter." I said I thought so too.

Brand new Peter

As far as the Pete thing goes, if he chooses to use the nickname Pete when he's older, then that is up to him, but we will call him Peter. And we will let other people know that it's Peter. Except for my Grandma Bonnie, who's the only person allowed to call him Petey, as in sweetie Petey.

The funny thing is, even though I'm the one that suggested the name Peter, it took me months to be used to having a child by that name. Is that weird? Peter was a name that I had always liked, but not one that I had ever had on my short list of future children's names. Of course, now I love it and I know that it suits him perfectly, but it took me some time to get to that point.

When we found out we were having another boy we began looking for names again. The only boy name Bryan really likes is Jack. I like it too, but he has a cousin named Jack and I'm not a fan of repeating names within a family. Yes, lots of people do it, I just think it would be too confusing. Also, Jack has gotten fairly popular, and I try to shy away from the trendy names. Anyway, I would spend hours searching baby naming sites and looking through our baby name book waiting for inspiration to strike. Nothing. The Sunday before Cooper was born I was at it again. This time I had a pad of paper to see how the various first names looked with the middle and last name. (We had already agreed to use Bryan's grandpa's name as the middle name.) I wrote down two names: Conrad and Cooper. I don't remember why I put Conrad on the list, but I liked the meaning of Cooper. Not so much the denotation (barrel maker) as the connotation (someone who understands and is willing to work hard to accomplish a task). Bryan looked at them and didn't really say anything. I thought that meant he liked both. Turns out that he only liked one of them. A few days later when Cooper was born and the nurse asked us if we had a name picked out Bryan looked at me, shrugged, and said "Cooper?"

Brand new Cooper

I do like his name, really. It's just the same thing that I went through with Peter, I simply never imagined myself having a child named Cooper. I can't imagine not having him though, which I think is a good step toward being completely comfortable with his name.

Story Time

Our bedtime routine consists of family prayer, two books, the Peter story, and two songs. I do nap time and Bryan does bedtime. It takes no more than ten minutes and helps Peter calm down for the night. Usually.

Recently Peter has started asking me to sing the books that we read before sleeping. We have some books that are illustrated versions of songs, so I thought maybe he was under the impression that all stories had music that went with them. I had been telling him I didn't know the music to the book in question and then just reading it.

I discovered the real reason behind his requests. Apparently Bryan has been turning all of their bedtime stories into rock operas. Some are more rock, some are more opera, all are highly entertaining as you can tell from the picture above. In this photo Bryan is singing the book I Love You, Mommy. Can you tell that both boys are enjoying it?

Today when we were doing the nap time routine, instead of just asking me to sing, Peter asked me to "make up the tune" for the book. He must know that his nightly concert is improvised. Honestly, for all of my vocal training and experience it's not always easy to come up with a "tune" on the spot.

Bryan, you're a tough act to follow.

In Case You Were Wondering What Happens to Peter When He Eats Eggs

Sorry about the food in his mouth. He was eating during our little photo shoot. Also, I just realized that his head, which is quite large, looks even bigger in this picture than it does normally. Sorry Peter.

Peter accidentally ate some mayo on Sunday before church. I realized this when he was almost done with the offending sandwich. Benedryl was quickly administered and I grabbed the camera to document the reaction that the eggs had on him. He can't say the "v" sound, so he kept saying that he had "hibes".

On a side note, giving your child Benedryl right before church is one way to keep them from acting up during the meeting. I don't recommend it, but it's certainly effective.

Promptings

I woke up at 4:10 this morning with the thought that I should go check on Peter. I really wanted to ignore it because I had had a hard time getting to sleep the night before and was really tired, but I got up. I decided to get a drink of water first. While I was in the kitchen Peter called to me and this exchange took place:

Peter: Mommy?
Me: Yes, Peter?
Peter: Mommy, I'm not going to throw up again.

Oh dear.

I went in to check, and sure enough, he clearly didn't feel well. I will not include details because, well, that would be gross. But the situation required attention. Bryan had heard us talking and came in. I cleaned up Peter while he cleaned up the bed/floor. Shortly thereafter Cooper decided to join us. So our whole family was up before 5 AM.

A few minutes after Cooper woke up I needed to go back into my room for something, I don't remember what. While there I had the thought that I should change my shirt. Now, I'm not sure why one pajama shirt is better than another, but I followed the impression. As I was changing I turned toward the corner where Cooper's bed is and saw, from a across a dark room, a spider. The fact that I could see it from where I was with almost no light should tell you how big that thing was. Bryan came in to see why I had just called out and saw it too. Bryan served his mission in Brazil where they have spiders the size of dinner plates, so I didn't think he would agree with me that it was wicked big. But he did. Apparently the really big spiders are only outdoors in Brazil. Or maybe it was that this spider, while only (only!?) the size of a 50 cent piece, was right by his baby's bed. He vacuumed it up with the shop vac, then plugged the vacuum hose so that it couldn't crawl back out. Just in case.

How does one type the sound that accompanies grossed-out chills and shivers? Just curious.

Anyway, after the spider was taken care of Bryan decided to go into work to get his laptop so that he could work from home in case I needed the extra help. (I did.) So the boys and I hung out in Peter's room for the next hour as he continued to be, um, sick. The only time Peter is still is when he's ill. He was still for most of the day. We got through four chapters in The Long Winter (most days we're lucky to read two chapters). He usually plays with blocks or colors while I read, but today he just laid there.

By the evening he was feeling better and wanted run around and play. However, we weren't quite as confident in his recovery and insisted that he should play quietly without any running, jumping, or dancing.

It's been a long day, but I'm thankful for those promptings that I got this morning. The Holy Ghost is a major part of my ability to be a good mom.