Dear United States Postal Service:
Where are our Halloween costumes? Do you know? Someone in one of your Texas offices told us they would be here on Wednesday. Today is Friday. They are not here.
Can this situation please be remedied?
Sincerely,
Kind of Sad That Our Awesome Costumes Got Lost in Transit
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Putting First Things First
Today was a really good day.
I've been thinking about cuddling lately. Specifically, cuddling my children. We're a pretty snuggly bunch. I'm not often concerned about making sure the small people have enough affection, because it feels like I'm always kissing the tops of their heads and telling them I love them. But a few days ago I was watching the boys play and I had the thought pop into my head, "I wonder how much longer Peter will let me hold his hand while we walk? Or give him hugs in public? Or ask me to come play trains with him? Or spend time with him at all?" He's only four and still loves these things, but the fleeting nature of time suddenly seemed very real.
Phoebe gets lots of snuggling time since it's integral to her feeding process. And she's a baby, so I can't help wanting to hold her as much as physically possible. I cuddle with Cooper while I read and sing to him before nap time everyday, not to mention that he will often come and give me a hug and a kiss without any prompting. Peter though, he's been left out lately.
That same day that I saw a mental picture of Peter as a teenager who refuses to hug his mother, I prayed that I would be able to make time to spend with each child, time to hold them and listen to them and just be close.
Today I was able to have time like that with each one of them, one-on-one. Phoebe had amazingly long naps (I'm not sure why, but I'm oh-so thankful for it). This meant that I spent a little longer with Cooper during our pre-nap routine. And then I sat with Peter while the other two were sleeping. I also made a conscious effort to go and play with them or see what they were building or drawing or doing whenever they asked. I have a bad case of the just-a-minutes. "I'll be there in just a minute, Peter." "Yes Cooper, just let me finish this first." Today, I paused sweeping the breakfast crumbs, loading the dishwasher, gathering trash. I went in and spent time with the boys as they played.
I need to figure out a way to store these moments, like money in a bank, putting them away now so that later, when they won't sit next to me with their head on my shoulder, I can withdraw my deposits. Something like saving for a rainy day I suppose.
I've been thinking about cuddling lately. Specifically, cuddling my children. We're a pretty snuggly bunch. I'm not often concerned about making sure the small people have enough affection, because it feels like I'm always kissing the tops of their heads and telling them I love them. But a few days ago I was watching the boys play and I had the thought pop into my head, "I wonder how much longer Peter will let me hold his hand while we walk? Or give him hugs in public? Or ask me to come play trains with him? Or spend time with him at all?" He's only four and still loves these things, but the fleeting nature of time suddenly seemed very real.
Phoebe gets lots of snuggling time since it's integral to her feeding process. And she's a baby, so I can't help wanting to hold her as much as physically possible. I cuddle with Cooper while I read and sing to him before nap time everyday, not to mention that he will often come and give me a hug and a kiss without any prompting. Peter though, he's been left out lately.
That same day that I saw a mental picture of Peter as a teenager who refuses to hug his mother, I prayed that I would be able to make time to spend with each child, time to hold them and listen to them and just be close.
Today I was able to have time like that with each one of them, one-on-one. Phoebe had amazingly long naps (I'm not sure why, but I'm oh-so thankful for it). This meant that I spent a little longer with Cooper during our pre-nap routine. And then I sat with Peter while the other two were sleeping. I also made a conscious effort to go and play with them or see what they were building or drawing or doing whenever they asked. I have a bad case of the just-a-minutes. "I'll be there in just a minute, Peter." "Yes Cooper, just let me finish this first." Today, I paused sweeping the breakfast crumbs, loading the dishwasher, gathering trash. I went in and spent time with the boys as they played.
I need to figure out a way to store these moments, like money in a bank, putting them away now so that later, when they won't sit next to me with their head on my shoulder, I can withdraw my deposits. Something like saving for a rainy day I suppose.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Mutant Carrots
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The Stash
Back in May our Bishop challenged our whole ward to gather a three-month supply by the end of November. I thought it was a great thing and was totally on board. Then we got a little bit sidetracked:
In truth, I've gone a little food storage batty.
This site has been particularly helpful, especially the Excel worksheet for tracking ingredients.
One of the biggest impediments to our gathering has been our lack of freezer space. We have what might possibly be the smallest freezer ever. It is attached to a full-size fridge (or so it appears, although the fridge is freakishly small as well), but it holds very little. Bryan and I have gone back and forth on the whole should-we-buy-a-bigger-freezer-to-stick-in-the-garage debate. For the moment I'm trying to figure out how to replace all the freezer items on our list with canned goods. It works alright for tortillas (once I finally buckle-down and learn how to make my own), but not so well for cheese. Or fish sticks. Or french fries. Or zucchini or broccoli. Any ideas?
I guess I have a few weeks to figure that out.
- We spent the month of July looking for a place to live
- We used up most of August unpacking and dipped heavily into the food storage we already had
- We had a baby in September and thought little about, well, much of anything not related to the baby
In truth, I've gone a little food storage batty.
This site has been particularly helpful, especially the Excel worksheet for tracking ingredients.
One of the biggest impediments to our gathering has been our lack of freezer space. We have what might possibly be the smallest freezer ever. It is attached to a full-size fridge (or so it appears, although the fridge is freakishly small as well), but it holds very little. Bryan and I have gone back and forth on the whole should-we-buy-a-bigger-freezer-to-stick-in-the-garage debate. For the moment I'm trying to figure out how to replace all the freezer items on our list with canned goods. It works alright for tortillas (once I finally buckle-down and learn how to make my own), but not so well for cheese. Or fish sticks. Or french fries. Or zucchini or broccoli. Any ideas?
I guess I have a few weeks to figure that out.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Teaching Moment
We had a full Saturday. We turned our house into a sauna by making and canning more applesauce, cleaned various rooms, and put up curtain rods and curtains. (That last one was mostly Bryan.) During a break in the domesticity I went into the boys' room to play with Peter. While there, a lesson in prayer was taught.
Peter: Mommy, I want to find the black train.
Me: (turning toward the box of train paraphernalia) Well let's see if we can find it.
Peter: Mommy, do you want to know one thing you can do when you're trying to find something? You can say a prayer.
And he did. He stopped his playing and folded his arms where he was and offered a prayer asking for help in finding his train. I turned back toward the box, moved a few train tracks aside, and spotted the black train. I pointed it out to Peter. He smiled and pulled it out.
It's wonderful for me to see Peter learning and putting to use the things that we've been teaching. I think this is what the scriptures mean when they talk about having child-like faith. He had faith in the power of that prayer to help him find his train. He had faith that Heavenly Father was listening.
I'm glad that I was there for him to teach me that lesson.
Peter: Mommy, I want to find the black train.
Me: (turning toward the box of train paraphernalia) Well let's see if we can find it.
Peter: Mommy, do you want to know one thing you can do when you're trying to find something? You can say a prayer.
And he did. He stopped his playing and folded his arms where he was and offered a prayer asking for help in finding his train. I turned back toward the box, moved a few train tracks aside, and spotted the black train. I pointed it out to Peter. He smiled and pulled it out.
It's wonderful for me to see Peter learning and putting to use the things that we've been teaching. I think this is what the scriptures mean when they talk about having child-like faith. He had faith in the power of that prayer to help him find his train. He had faith that Heavenly Father was listening.
I'm glad that I was there for him to teach me that lesson.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Cooper To The Rescue
Cooper: Mom, Peter's my friend.
Me: He is, huh? That's good.
Cooper: (matter-of-factly) I'm going to save him.
Me: (slightly surprised) You are? From what?
Peter: From harm.
Cooper: From nap time.
Me: He is, huh? That's good.
Cooper: (matter-of-factly) I'm going to save him.
Me: (slightly surprised) You are? From what?
Peter: From harm.
Cooper: From nap time.
Labels:
brothers,
conversation,
Cooper,
Peter
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
A Word Problem
One sick baby girl
+
One mom who has sat up at night holding said baby girl for almost a week so she can breathe
+
Two big brothers that don't slow down, ever
=
One very tired mom
+
One mom who has sat up at night holding said baby girl for almost a week so she can breathe
+
Two big brothers that don't slow down, ever
=
One very tired mom
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Time to Stop Believin'
Oh Glee, what are you doing to me? I love your fabulous musical numbers and think that many of your characters are compelling. But recently, well, you've been making some poor choices. Your inappropriate moments have started turning into inappropriate scenes. The bad is outweighing the good.
I'm so conflicted over this. I love show choir, I love Broadway, I love it when people break out into song. I do not love immorality or the celebration thereof.
And so, Glee, I'm afraid we need to take a break. Maybe I'll still check out your musical numbers on YouTube, but I don't think I can devote my time or brain space to you anymore. And that makes me kind of sad.
I'm so conflicted over this. I love show choir, I love Broadway, I love it when people break out into song. I do not love immorality or the celebration thereof.
And so, Glee, I'm afraid we need to take a break. Maybe I'll still check out your musical numbers on YouTube, but I don't think I can devote my time or brain space to you anymore. And that makes me kind of sad.
Monday, October 18, 2010
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