Once Upon a Mattress

Two and a half weeks ago one member of our family gained a significant amount of freedom and another member of our family had their sense of safety dramatically reduced. Each is coping with these changes as best they can, although we've had a few rough moments. You may be wondering, what happened at our house?

Cooper moved to the toddler bed.

It happened on a Monday night. You know how most kids learn to soothe themselves to sleep after a few weeks, maybe a month? Cooper had been crying himself to sleep every night for a year. And I don't mean five minutes of crying. I mean thirty minutes, an hour, sometimes an hour and a half. That didn't strike us as a healthy and normal thing.

That particular night Bryan checked on Cooper after he'd been crying for forty minutes. Apparently Cooper didn't look mad or tired or frustrated. He looked terrified. I learned this when Bryan walked into our room right after checking on Cooper and asked where the screws for the toddler bed were. I was on the phone and told him, but didn't get the whole explanation as to what he was doing. Bryan's theory was that Cooper was scared and felt trapped in his bed. We had been planning on moving Cooper to the toddler bed on his birthday next month anyway, so Bryan figured he'd give Cooper the freedom to come get us in the night by moving him slightly ahead of schedule.

Cooper helped Bryan put the bed together. He was absolutely delighted. And, amazingly, Peter slept through the whole process, light on and everything. I did my part by finding the bedding (and the screws) and we tucked Cooper into his new, big boy bed. He smiled at us, until he realized we were still going to walk out the door. And then he cried for another half hour.

Luckily, things have gotten better. I think Bryan's theory may have been correct. That same day Cooper had told me there were monsters in his closet, so maybe that's were the fear came from. I'm not sure. I was really nervous about not having a safe place to put him while I did things like open the oven and run to the bathroom. And by safe, I mean safe from his easily-overexcited big brother. Luckily, he and Peter have been playing a little better together, so my fears of Peter smashing Cooper into the floor have lessened. (Not gone away entirely, mind you, but lessened.) Also, Cooper is our climber, and he REALLY loves jumping on his bed. Peter has learned from personal experience not to do that (he has no qualms about jumping off all the other furniture in our house, but he only climbs on and off the toddler bed), but Cooper has no such scar to keep him from flying.

So, yeah, I'm the one that had a decrease in their sense of safety.

The best part though? Cooper rarely cries while he's going to sleep now. He doesn't even wake-up when he slides out during the night.


Good call, Bryan.

Money, Money, Money

Wow, you guys had some great advice about baby-sitters. And, since I have a calling with the Stake Young Women, I actually have six Young Women's Presidents at my disposal. Although, I did like the point about knowing the parents well. In fact, I mostly baby-sat for families that were good friends with my mom. Hmm... mental puzzle pieces are beginning to fit together.

I should have asked this yesterday, but since I didn't, you get two baby-sitting related posts in a row. And two question posts in a row. Bonus, eh?

The question: What's the going rate for baby-sitters these days? I know that I charged $1/hour/child back in the early-to-mid-nineties. At the time my rates were fairly common, although I knew girls that would watch one child and make $5/hour, sometimes more. But really, what's a fair wage for a baby-sitter?

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

I've written before about my neurotic-mom tendencies. You know, how I won't let Cooper play in front of the TV cabinet if it's open, my desire to always be in charge, and my fear that a bump on the head will lead to a life-threatening injury. Well, Saturday during a church meeting I thought of another one.

I won't leave my boys with a baby-sitter. Correction: I won't leave them with a baby-sitter who is not also a blood relation that I know well and trust. Immediate family members are great. Too bad only two of them (and two VERY busy ones at that) live near us.

I thought about this because we were talking about attending the Temple regularly. And not just attending, but attending with your spouse. Thanks to my calling, I've been able to go to the Temple about once a month, but I don't think Bryan and I have been together in over a year. Sad, I know.

What got me was how easily the other women spoke about finding a baby-sitter. Leave my small children with a twelve-year-old? No problem! Actually, I was one of those twelve-year-olds. And I was a very good baby-sitter. I played with the kids, I fed them, I cleaned-up. I even let one of them cut my hair (Oops...). If I was such a beacon of child-care artistry, why am I so against leaving my boys with a baby-sitter?

Maybe because the one time I left Peter at a friend's house to play (we were moving and I was eight-months-pregnant with Cooper and I really needed to finish cleaning our old apartment) when we went to pick him up, the mom didn't know where they were. It turns out he had followed his friend out to their partially fenced backyard to play. And the friend was the oldest person out there. She was three.

Maybe it's because I know how crazy I am, and I don't think anyone is going to be as aware or safety conscious as I am. See, I'm letting the crazy out a little too much.

Or maybe it's because I've read too many stories about baby-sitters doing horrible things to children. I'm not going to go into any more detail than that.

I'm trying to figure out how to move past this, just a little bit. I've heard we have an excellent, reputable, responsible Young Woman in our ward that is a wonderful baby-sitter. I wonder if she'll still be in the ward by the time I work up the courage to leave my boys with her.

So, my friends, how do you find a baby-sitter you can trust? And once you've found one, how do you leave your children with her?

After all, I would like to go to the Temple with Bryan at least once a year...

I'm on a Horse

Thanks Krystal!

Another Installment of the Peter Lecture Series

Peter gave his third talk in Primary yesterday, which brings us up to a total of six public-speaking experiences if you count the Primary Sacrament Meeting Program. We really struggled with writing this one. His topic? "Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ all mankind may be saved." Any idea why we had trouble? That is a large topic for a four-year-old (or a twenty-nine-year-old) to deliver a talk on.

We talked about it a little throughout the week, but it wasn't until Saturday afternoon that I pulled this picture out.


Me: Peter, what's going on in this picture?

Peter: That's Jesus.

Me: That's right. What's he doing?

Peter: He's suffering.

True. Believe-it-or-not, that conversation helped me figure out his talk. It wasn't typed until Sunday morning and, since we now have 9am church, he only got to practice it twice, although we still set-up our fake podium so he could run through walking up and looking at the crowd. He held the picture up while I did the whisper-the-talk-in-his-ear trick. He did very well.

For those of you that are curious, here's the talk:

This is a picture of Jesus Christ as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. He was praying for us because he loves us. He took our sins, all the bad things everyone has ever done or felt, and he felt them too. This was called the Atonement. He did this so that we could repent and return to live with Heavenly Father. When we repent we stop doing the wrong thing, we try to make it right, and we say sorry to those we may have hurt. Because of the atonement, I can repent when I’ve done something naughty and I can be forgiven. Because of the atonement my family can be together forever with Heavenly Father. I am thankful for Jesus and the atonement. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Simon Says

This week Cooper learned how to play Simon Says.



This movie was taken in the interim between dinner and bath, thus the food-covered boy. Also, he can count to eleven, but won't for the camera.

Here's a bonus Cooper movie, mostly for the grandparents and the aunts. He makes up songs and sings to himself. Often. Wow, with that hobby you'd think he was related to me and Bryan or something...

Coolsville Daddy-o

Peter has begun giving voice to whatever he's playing with. If he has two Duplo figures (we call them 'guys' at our house), he'll supply a dialogue for them. It's fun watching his imagination grow. I over heard this exchange last week:

Peter: (playing guy # 1) Did you say you're magic?

Peter: (now as guy # 2) I'm not magic. I'm just cool.

Yes, yes you are.

Architectural Design

Peter and Cooper both love building with blocks. Recently, Peter's creations have begun to grow more complex. He's very into building bridges and towers right now. He also loves levels and lots of stairs.





I wonder what Frank Lloyd Wright built when he was four...

A New Friend?

On Sunday evening, shortly before gathering for dinner, I thought I heard Cooper calling for me. I walked into the boys' room where he was playing with blocks and asked what he needed. He just kept repeating the word over and over again. It finally occurred to me that he wasn't saying mommy. He was saying Mya. (Apparently I respond to any word that starts with an M.)

I puzzled over this for a few minutes until I remembered that there's a cute little girl in our ward named Mya. She's got great big eyes and red, curly hair. I don't think that she's old enough to go to nursery on her own, but her dad is one of the nursery workers. I wondered if maybe Cooper was talking about someone he had met from nursery.

Me: Cooper, are you saying Mya?

Cooper: Yeah.

Me: Do you know a Mya?

Cooper: Yeah. Nursey. (Cooper-speak for Nursery.)

Me: Is Mya your friend from Nursery?

Cooper: Yeah.

I have no idea if she was really in Nursery with him on Sunday, but if she was, that's kind of sweet that he remembered her. And if she wasn't, where in the world did he learn the name Mya?

It's a Valentine's Day Miracle!

Guess who went to church yesterday! WE DID!

I know, I usually abstain from using all caps, but seriously, this is a big deal. Peter missed four consecutive Sundays due to illness. I hadn't been to our ward in as many weeks. And yesterday we were all well enough to go. It was wonderful!

I actually had to attend another ward yesterday (I have to go to all the ward conferences for my calling). However, because our ward meets at nine and the other ward meets at one, there was no conflict. I know I could have opted to just go to the ward conference, but I'm so glad I went to my ward too. And yes, six hours of church on one Sunday is a lot, but it was worth it to have all of us there!

I was a little bit nervous that the boys might have a hard time getting back into the reverent groove after so many weeks at home, but they did swimmingly.

The real Valentine's Day miracle? The boys made it through all three hours without any coughing or sniffling. As soon as we got home, their noses started to run.

I hope we can all go again next week.

The Waiting Game

Have you ever read Dr. Seuss' Oh The Places You'll Go? There's an excerpt that talks about The Waiting Place:

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

Oh the waiting. I remember waiting to have kids, wondering if we were ever going to. This was especially hard after I miscarried my first pregnancy. I felt like we had already waited so long, I didn't understand why I had to wait even longer. After many prayers and a few priesthood blessings, I heard an answer.

You see, I'm a planner. While the boys and I eat breakfast in the mornings I ask them what they want to do during the day. I like to write things on calendars and know what's going to happen when. I like long-term planning too. Basically, I think I just like to be in-charge. All the time. This makes the waiting even harder.

The answer that I got? My plan, my timeline, is not always Heavenly Father's. And while it's hard, one of the things that I needed to learn from that experience was patience. Ah patience, that often illusive trait that I pray for daily. And not just patience. I needed to learn that maybe I didn't always have the best answer. I needed to learn to trust Heavenly Father. I needed to learn that my ways were not necessarily His ways.

My wait ended up being much shorter than many other's. Peter was born almost one year after the miscarriage. He came when he was supposed to, I know that now. I can see in retrospect that blessings came from waiting, even if the waiting wasn't my choice.

A few days ago I read this post on my friend LeMira's blog (and I'm pretty certain it came from another friend of mine, you'll have to correct me if I'm wrong LeMira). It describes the answer that I got. Go read it. That poem has had me thinking all week about waiting. We're waiting for things now, things that might determine future plans. I'd love to know right now where we'll be in a year, but I must wait.

And that's okay.

I Scream, You Scream

Towards the end of breakfast, with both Captain Crunch and Oatmeal Squares on the table:

Me: (pointing to the Oatmeal Squares) Cooper, do you want this one?

Cooper: No

Me: Do you want more Captain Crunch?

Cooper: No

Me: Well, what do you want?

Cooper: (eyes widening at the thought) Ice Cream!

Order of Operations

The boys got a Valentine's Day package from Bryan's family this week. (Thank you!) Peter spent most of yesterday morning working through the preschool activity book that was included and Cooper was delighted to have his very own Valentine's Day card. There were a few other items that brought joy to Bryan as well as Peter and Cooper.

Cooper added to his duplo collection:
While Peter got some very exciting additions for his Lego box:



Peter had wanted to play with them during Cooper's nap (the Legos may only come out when Cooper can't get to them), but Bryan asked that I not get the new toys down without him. Peter settled for his regular Legos without too much complaint. Bryan came home a little bit early last night so he and Peter could put them together.

I made dinner while Bryan taught Peter how to assemble the army men, RC, and the rocket. (Cooper hovered nearby, but Bryan vigilantly kept him away from the tiny blocks.) Let me say before I go on that Peter has a bit of trouble following directions. It's not that he can't, or that he doesn't understand them, he just chooses not to. And he lets us know that that's why he's not doing what we've asked. It is not an enjoyable phase. But last night I listened as Bryan VERY patiently explained that they needed to follow the instructions. And then he had Peter examine those instructions and determine the difference between each picture.

It was a beautiful thing to witness.

There were a few times that Peter wanted to rush ahead and Bryan would explain that to make the toy work, they had to put the pieces on in a specific order. When each piece was done I came over and oohed and ahhed appropriately. But I was more impressed with directions that were followed and the teamwork that went on.

Well done Peter. And Bryan.

Bedside Manner

So it looks like we're on the mend. At least Cooper and I are. Peter... not so much. He felt really sick today, and spent most of his time on the couch watching movies. Cooper desperately wanted to help. This was the result:

Modern Medicine

I'm starting to feel like all I do on this blog is write about how sick we are. I miss writing about other things.

That said, this is another sick post, but I'll be brief.

On Friday when Cooper woke up from his nap he was running a fever and tugging on his ear. Sounds like an ear infection, huh? Taking the boys to the doctor really drives my anxiety level up, so I tend to only go when I really have to. Bryan, on the other hand, likes the boys to go to the doctor when they've been sick, which, you know, makes him a really good dad.

Since Bryan had come home a little bit early to work on something he offered to stay with Peter while I took Cooper to the InstaCare. I was so tired and sick myself that I really didn't want to go, but I grudgingly agreed.

Cooper was very patient with the mask that carriers of the plague must wear at all times while visiting the doctor. I'm not complaining, I know there are non-sick people there too. The doctor came and looked at Cooper's ears. Nothing. However, it turned out to be a very good thing we went.

Cooper has pneumonia.

If he hadn't been tugging on his ear I don't think I would have agreed to take him in. He's been on an antibiotic since Friday night, but the tell-tale rattle is still there when he breathes.

I'm so thankful that Bryan insisted that Cooper needed to go to the doctor. And thankful that there is medicine we can give to Cooper to help him recover.

Fighting the Enemy

My friend Beth (I have two friends named Beth that read this blog and, here's the trippy part, they're both married to guys named Nathan) left me a comment yesterday asking if I was still sick.

Sadly, the answer is yes. And I'm not the only one. Peter has coughed so hard the last three nights he's thrown-up at least once. Yup, at least. I had to keep tissue on me at all times today for what was streaming down Cooper's face. I have the cough, but it's much drier than the boy's. (That's kind of a gross description, eh?) While I feel yucky, I think I've had the lightest case.

I thought we were getting better. Bryan and Cooper went to church on Sunday. They had missed two weeks. I stayed home with the still hacking Peter. He has now missed three weeks of church. I could tell it had been too long since they'd been because throughout the previous week Cooper would walk up to me with my shoes on saying "Bye!" When I'd ask where he was going he would say, "chuch," which is Cooper-ese for church.

We were doing so well that we even went to play at a friend's house on Wednesday. Sorry, friend. I hope we didn't get you sick.

I've been trying my hardest to send this illness away. Even though it's still cold outside, I've been opening one or two windows everyday for at least a few hours to get us some fresh air. I've done laundry. I've mopped. I've vacuumed. I changed towels and bedding. I've kept the kitchen in a company-friendly state all week. Doesn't that sound like it would be enough to cleanse us of this common-cold-monster?

It would probably help if I could get the boys to sit still and rest and drink lots of fluids. Peter will enter an almost comatose state in front of the TV (it's quite scary, actually, and the main reason we watch almost no televsion) so if I let him, he wouldn't move from our big comfy chair all day. That might really help him recover. However, Cooper cares about TV for approximately ten to fifteen minutes and then he's done. He uses that word. "Done Mommy, down. Play. Run." I'm so paranoid about Cooper running in front of our behemoth of a flat-screen that I don't let him play in the living room while the TV cabinet doors are open. That kind of squashes the whole let-Peter-watch-TV-all-day idea.

I haven't given-up hope. I think there's a chance that we might all make it to church on Sunday. And if we don't, I think Peter and Bryan will be well enough.

I realize that there's no cure for the common cold, but what do you guys do to shorten it's stay? Or, better yet, how do you stay healthy? We've been so sick this winter it's felt like one long, consecutive illness.

Modesty is the Best Policy

While getting Cooper dressed for the day on Saturday morning:

Me: Okay Cooper, let's change your diaper and get you dressed.

Cooper: (with a sly twinkle in his eye the moment I unzipped his pajamas) Oh no! (Quickly using his arm to cover his bare chest) Nakey!

Much to his chagrin, he wasn't "nakey" for very long.

Perspective

Thanks go to my wonderful mother-in-law for sending this to me. I admit, I got a little misty-eyed when I watched it.

Where's Cooper?

After dinner on Sunday night Cooper grabbed the cloth we had just used to wash dinner off his hands and pulled it up to cover his face. He was initiating a game of "Where's Cooper?" I played along.

Cooper: Look! Look! Look!

Me: Oh! Where's Cooper?

Cooper: (still behind his cloth) Land!

Me: Did he go to Disneyland without us?

Cooper: (still hidden) Yeah. Boo!

Me: (now that I can see the grin on his face) There he is!

Cooper: (starting another round) See! See!

Me: Where's Cooper? Did he go to the beach?

Cooper: Yeah. Boo!

Me: There he is!

Cooper: (beginning his final round) See!

Me: Where's Cooper?

Cooper: (from behind his cloth) Jesus! Jesus!

Me: (trying to figure out what that clue could possibly mean) Uh... did he go to... church?

Peter: No, he went to Jesusland.

Cooper: Yeah!

Me: (to Peter) And where is that?

Peter: It's the place with all the planets and stars.

It took me only a moment to realize that he was talking about the North Visitor's Center at Temple Square in Salt Lake City. That building is highlighted in February's Friend magazine. I'm not sure that's what Cooper was thinking of, but he was content to go along with Peter's interpretation.

Doppleganger

Last week the big trend on Facebook was to replace your picture with a celebrity that you've been told you look like. Pictures of Lisa Kudrow, Anna Paquin, and Alanis Morrisette (among others) replaced my friends' pictures. I thought the likenesses were pretty good.

I did not participate, for no reason other than I chose not to. But I did think about it. Upon contemplation, I can come up with three celebrities I've been told I look like.

Shannen Doherty

I remember standing in line for dinner at the no-longer-functioning Morris Center dining hall my Freshman year at BYU. A fellow from my ward happened to be standing in line behind me. I didn't know him very well and, being the friendly person that I am, figured I should talk to him. I can't remember most of what we talked about, but right before we got to the food he looked at me and said, "You really look like that girl from 90210, Shannen Doherty." All I knew about her was that she was a bit of a diva, so I asked him if that was a good thing. His response, "Yeah." Um, thanks...

Kelli Williams

I know this actress from the few episodes of The Practice that I watched sometime during the 90's. According to IMDB she's now on a show on Fox called "Lie to Me". Personally, I think I resemble Ms. Williams much more than Ms. Doherty. Her high cheekbones, her strong chin, her big forehead, and even her hair color remind me of me. And it was a total stranger in a Jamba Juice (I think) that told me I looked like her. Good eye, total stranger.

And finally, Miss Piggy

That's right, one of my fellow Resident Assistants at BYU told me that I reminded him of Miss Piggy. I know the look I gave him was one of shock when he told me that. Yes, my nose turns up, but only slightly. Yes, I have very pale skin and have been known to sizzle like bacon on a sunny day. Yes, I can be quite loud on occasion. But Miss Piggy? Really?

Have been told you look like anyone famous?