Cooper woke up before four o'clock this morning. Oh how I envy parents that can simply put their children in their beds and have them sleep soundly through the night.
Last night was rough at our house. Really rough. Part of the roughness stems from Peter still being a nap-needing-child but at the same time not being able to take naps. We discovered a few months ago that if Peter took a nap during the day then he wouldn't go to sleep at night. Yesterday he needed a nap. He was grumpy, kept throwing tantrums, and had great big dark circles under his eyes. So, we had him take a nap. He woke up a much happier little boy.
Fast forward to bedtime. He wasn't as cranky as usual, but I could tell from his exponentially growing level of zaniness that he was tired. The more tired Peter is, the greater the likelihood of him running endless circles around his room. I kept reminding myself that he had had a nap and probably wouldn't go to sleep as easily as I would like. He didn't. I won't go into all the details, but I will say that towards the end of our much-derailed bedtime routine I pushed Cooper's bed into my room and told Peter to go to sleep on his own. This was for everyone's sanity.
I held Cooper in my room and listened to Peter's hysteria escalate. Once Cooper had dozed off I went into Peter and comforted him. He calmed down, but still wouldn't sleep. Bryan got home from work and took over Peter-duty while I went into the now awake Cooper. Both boys were finally asleep by ten at night, three hours past their normal bedtime.
When Peter goes to sleep late he will often wake up late. Not so with Cooper. That boy's internal clock is tightly wound and rarely lets him sleep past seven in the morning. Except lately he's been waking in the middle of the night. He screams and cries until one of us rescues him from his crib-confinement and then holds him while he actively sleeps in our bed for the rest of the night, resulting in a refreshed Cooper and two dead-on-our-feet parents. This morning he wouldn't go back to sleep.
Let us do a little math, shall we? He usually goes to sleep at seven at night and awakens at seven in the morning. That's twelve hours of much needed rejuvenating slumber for our small man. Last night he was asleep by ten (well, I think Cooper zonked out by nine-thirty, but we'll say ten for math purposes) and woke up at four. That's six hours of sleep, okay for an adult, but six hours short for a growing seventeen-month-old.
And that brings me to now. Here I sit at 6:42 in the morning, listening to Cooper cry because I've put him back in his own bed and very sweetly told him to go to sleep.
It's going to be a long day.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Big Red Cape
Bryan and I were reupholstering a chair last night and decided to watch something that didn't require a great deal of concentration. After looking through the choices we had on hand Bryan decided on something. About a minute into the movie I realized I had never seen it before, which was kind of surprising to me. I know I've seen at least one of the sequels and a recent "reboot", but not the original. No, I'm not talking about Star Trek. (I've seen all of those... and own many of them.) Nope this is a different franchise.
I had never seen Superman.
Wow. My first thought while watching it was, "Movies have really come a long way." I asked Bryan all kinds of questions during our viewing about pesky things like gaping plot holes and hokey special effects. My suspension of disbelief is pretty willing, but this was difficult to watch with a straight face.
I love a good Superhero movie. X-Men and X2: fabulous. Spider-Man: great. Spider-Man 2: even better. (Yes, I did leave X-Men: The Last Stand and Spider-Man 3 out of that list on purpose. They hurt my soul.) Ironman: Can't wait for the sequel! Heck, I even liked both The Hulk and The Incredible Hulk. Superman The Movie: Seriously?
One good thing about it, other than the casting of an actress with a fabulous name, was the wide-eyed innocence of Clark Kent. That was kind of fun.
You know, it was just fine as long as I reminded myself that it was a comedy.
It is a comedy, right?
I had never seen Superman.
Wow. My first thought while watching it was, "Movies have really come a long way." I asked Bryan all kinds of questions during our viewing about pesky things like gaping plot holes and hokey special effects. My suspension of disbelief is pretty willing, but this was difficult to watch with a straight face.
I love a good Superhero movie. X-Men and X2: fabulous. Spider-Man: great. Spider-Man 2: even better. (Yes, I did leave X-Men: The Last Stand and Spider-Man 3 out of that list on purpose. They hurt my soul.) Ironman: Can't wait for the sequel! Heck, I even liked both The Hulk and The Incredible Hulk. Superman The Movie: Seriously?
One good thing about it, other than the casting of an actress with a fabulous name, was the wide-eyed innocence of Clark Kent. That was kind of fun.
You know, it was just fine as long as I reminded myself that it was a comedy.
It is a comedy, right?
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Crazy Eight
According to About.com, Bryan should be giving me one of the following today:Something Bronze
An Appliance
A Casino Visit
Happy Eighth Anniversary Bryan!
Monday, August 17, 2009
How Does Your Garden Grow?
Behold, the garden:
Two of the empty spots are from the peas that died in July and the potatoes that I pulled up last week. I think the grasshoppers had been feasting on them. The leaves were all dead. In all we harvested thirty-five potatoes. Not bad. Our next largest crop so far has been cucumbers. I planted twice as many as I should have. I also planted about a third as many beans as I should have. Oh well, it's my first garden, and thus a major learning experience. Also, do you like the abandoned beds of weeds on either side of our garden?
And now, a few close-ups.
The pumpkin:
Technically, it's pumpkins. I found two more small gourds growing, but they're still green and therefore don't show up in this picture due to the massive leaves.
The fluffy and abundant carrots:
I thinned them a few weeks ago and for days could see nothing but carrot tops when I closed my eyes. Seriously.
The tomatoes:
We have three tomato plants and, barring birds or bugs, will pick at least sixty-six tomatoes from them. I really love tomatoes.
Are you growing anything this year?
Two of the empty spots are from the peas that died in July and the potatoes that I pulled up last week. I think the grasshoppers had been feasting on them. The leaves were all dead. In all we harvested thirty-five potatoes. Not bad. Our next largest crop so far has been cucumbers. I planted twice as many as I should have. I also planted about a third as many beans as I should have. Oh well, it's my first garden, and thus a major learning experience. Also, do you like the abandoned beds of weeds on either side of our garden?
And now, a few close-ups.
The pumpkin:
Technically, it's pumpkins. I found two more small gourds growing, but they're still green and therefore don't show up in this picture due to the massive leaves.
The fluffy and abundant carrots:
I thinned them a few weeks ago and for days could see nothing but carrot tops when I closed my eyes. Seriously.
The tomatoes:
We have three tomato plants and, barring birds or bugs, will pick at least sixty-six tomatoes from them. I really love tomatoes.
Are you growing anything this year?
Friday, August 14, 2009
Uplifting
I went to book club last night. It's the first time I've been able to go since April. The book for this month was Yearning for the Living God by F. Enzio Busche.
Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but, with the exception of the scriptures, I don't read many church books. I also don't read that many biographies or autobiographies. Nope, I like to stick to Young Adult Fantasy. Think Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and Septimus Heap. Oh, and so far anything by Shannon Hale. So I was a little apprehensive about reading an Emeritus General Authority's autobiography.
Guess what? I liked it. Granted, I haven't finished it yet, but I like what I've read. Elder Busche was born in Germany in 1930. He said that at that time when a baby was born their name was automatically added to the list of Hitler's youth. It was fascinating reading what Germany looked like from the inside during World War II. They had no idea what Hitler was doing with the concentration camps. They were told that they were going to save the morally corrupt world by living good, honest, chaste, honorable lives. Elder Busche said the discovery of what had really happened was devastating to the country as a whole.
He then went on to discuss meeting the missionaries and his two-year investigation of the church. He didn't want to follow someone blindly again and repeat the pain of the aftermath of Hitler. Throughout the book he shares wonderful spiritual experiences, including dreams and visions of angels.
The question was raised during the meeting: why don't we have these kinds of experiences? Are we lacking the needed faith? There were a few answers that I thought were interesting. One was that we do, but these are very sacred and personal experiences that aren't usually shared. One girl had worked in the Folklore archives at BYU and she said that they had many many miraculous stories documented and filed away, all true and very personal.
The second answer was that we do see angels, but they're not always beings robed in white. They are often real, ordinary people. They come to us in our times of need and trial and sorrow. They lift us up and give us service. One woman in the group has just come through a long battle with breast cancer. Her eyes filled with tears as she said that she knew there were angels in our ward because she had been blessed by many of them.
The discussion was uplifting and intellectually enlightening. There wasn't the usual back-and-forth about why the book was bad or good. Instead testimonies were borne and insights were shared.
It was just what I needed.
Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but, with the exception of the scriptures, I don't read many church books. I also don't read that many biographies or autobiographies. Nope, I like to stick to Young Adult Fantasy. Think Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and Septimus Heap. Oh, and so far anything by Shannon Hale. So I was a little apprehensive about reading an Emeritus General Authority's autobiography.
Guess what? I liked it. Granted, I haven't finished it yet, but I like what I've read. Elder Busche was born in Germany in 1930. He said that at that time when a baby was born their name was automatically added to the list of Hitler's youth. It was fascinating reading what Germany looked like from the inside during World War II. They had no idea what Hitler was doing with the concentration camps. They were told that they were going to save the morally corrupt world by living good, honest, chaste, honorable lives. Elder Busche said the discovery of what had really happened was devastating to the country as a whole.
He then went on to discuss meeting the missionaries and his two-year investigation of the church. He didn't want to follow someone blindly again and repeat the pain of the aftermath of Hitler. Throughout the book he shares wonderful spiritual experiences, including dreams and visions of angels.
The question was raised during the meeting: why don't we have these kinds of experiences? Are we lacking the needed faith? There were a few answers that I thought were interesting. One was that we do, but these are very sacred and personal experiences that aren't usually shared. One girl had worked in the Folklore archives at BYU and she said that they had many many miraculous stories documented and filed away, all true and very personal.
The second answer was that we do see angels, but they're not always beings robed in white. They are often real, ordinary people. They come to us in our times of need and trial and sorrow. They lift us up and give us service. One woman in the group has just come through a long battle with breast cancer. Her eyes filled with tears as she said that she knew there were angels in our ward because she had been blessed by many of them.
The discussion was uplifting and intellectually enlightening. There wasn't the usual back-and-forth about why the book was bad or good. Instead testimonies were borne and insights were shared.
It was just what I needed.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
For the Grandmas, Part 3
Cooper hasn't started running yet, but he is slowly progressing in the world of walking. Also, my face at the end is a little scary.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Chomp
Does anyone out there have a biter?
Cooper has started sinking his teeth into us in fits of anger. It is not awesome. Sadly he learned this happy little trick from his doting big brother. Cooper has run with it. Well, crawled quickly with it. And our sweet little Cooper has quite the temper.
My question: how do you teach an almost seventeen-month-old not to bite?
Cooper has started sinking his teeth into us in fits of anger. It is not awesome. Sadly he learned this happy little trick from his doting big brother. Cooper has run with it. Well, crawled quickly with it. And our sweet little Cooper has quite the temper.
My question: how do you teach an almost seventeen-month-old not to bite?
Monday, August 10, 2009
Going My Way?
As my brothers and sister and I each learned to drive we discovered something interesting: none of us have a good sense of direction. Strike that. I'm not sure we have a sense of direction at all. The running joke was that no matter where my brothers set out for, they would end up in San Marcos, twenty minutes from my parents house.
I am continually amazed by people that can look around and say, "That's East, that's West." Bryan can do this. Not just that, but he can do it even when he can't see outside. I remember being in a basement with him and having him correctly find North. It's like he has a compass built into his brain. I have no brain-compass. I do know that in Utah the close mountains are to the East, but I can't always see the mountains, which means I don't always know where I'm going.
Armed with a clear set of directions and a map and I'll only get a little bit lost. I should always leave the house at least ten minutes earlier than I need to just to account for the wandering around that is going to take place.
I've hoped that the boys would inherit Bryan's strong sense of direction, but the other day I overheard something that makes me think Peter may have taken it a step further in the poor direction world. While talking to Franklin on his hand-me-down cell phone he said, " Okay, go East, hit a car, then go West." He said he was giving Franklin directions to our house. It's a good thing that Franklin is an invisible and fictional turtle, otherwise we would have a number of wrecked cars on the way to our house.
I am continually amazed by people that can look around and say, "That's East, that's West." Bryan can do this. Not just that, but he can do it even when he can't see outside. I remember being in a basement with him and having him correctly find North. It's like he has a compass built into his brain. I have no brain-compass. I do know that in Utah the close mountains are to the East, but I can't always see the mountains, which means I don't always know where I'm going.
Armed with a clear set of directions and a map and I'll only get a little bit lost. I should always leave the house at least ten minutes earlier than I need to just to account for the wandering around that is going to take place.
I've hoped that the boys would inherit Bryan's strong sense of direction, but the other day I overheard something that makes me think Peter may have taken it a step further in the poor direction world. While talking to Franklin on his hand-me-down cell phone he said, " Okay, go East, hit a car, then go West." He said he was giving Franklin directions to our house. It's a good thing that Franklin is an invisible and fictional turtle, otherwise we would have a number of wrecked cars on the way to our house.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Big Sister
I was looking at some of the pictures of my brother's wedding and came across this one of me and two of my "little" brothers. (I'm sure they're both loving that I referred to them as little.) When I told someone that I was the groom's sister they asked how much older he was than me. Not older, just taller.It's funny to think that those little brothers have served missions, gotten married, and one is now a father. I know that we're all growing older, but I still think of myself as the big sister. I think I always will.
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