Picture Tag

Go to your Pictures file. Open the fourth folder and post the fourth picture. My friend Christina is the one who did this one, and I did it because I was curious as to how it would turn out. Not as cute as yours, Chris. (This is taken from inside our tour bus on Catalina Island this summer.)

Party Like It's My Birthday

Thanks so much for the birthday wishes! They made me feel VIP-ish all day.

This is really an Ode to Gary, because blogging about the nice birthday he put together should put a smile on his face, right? It started out with Gary going to work late so I could sleep in until 8:00. Best gift ever, right there! He then surprised me with flowers and breakfast from McDonalds, which I think is the ultimate gesture of love from a man.

Gary had planned to surprise me by taking me out to dinner, just the two of us. He had gotten someone to baby-sit and everything. Then my thoughtful sisters called him and asked what he had planned to do for me, and it turned into a little party at The Mayan. Since we knew the kids would love it, and there would be others there to defray the impact of bringing kids out to eat, we brought them. Good choice - it was so much fun to have everybody there. The Mayan is a theme restaurant in Salt Lake. It's decorated all Mayan-like and features cliff divers in the middle of the dining area, or as Josh would say, people "doin' jumpin' in the water jumps." Here some of us are at our table - the fence behind us keeps us from accidentally doin' a jumpin' in the water jump. (The guy on the far right is Dave's bro, Steve.)

We are displaying the happiness that comes from good food, good friends, and cliff diving. It was actually cool, and Josh was absolutely transfixed by it. It was a little scary, though - it seemed as if the margin of error for the divers was very small. One inch to the left, and major spinal trauma. After one particularly daring jump, where 3 people dove into the small pool at once, Gary said, "I can't believe this place is still in business." The cliffs and pool in question.I had to show the attendance of my friend Anna, and what better way to do it than showing her "typing" on what is labeled as a "priceless antique." How many of you vote that it really is priceless and they displayed it right there in the waiting room to the restaurant?This behavior is adorable and cute, if it is not your child. So, you can tell that it was Anna who took the picture. Now that it's a photo, I also say it is adorable and cute.Anna's husband Joe with Noah. Joe was worried that we had confused Noah by making him think it was Monday because of his bib.Last, but most certainly not least, my mom came down on Sunday to wish me happy birthday, and sparked a family gathering. Gary made sure there was lots of steak and sauces to dip them in, and he and my sister Hannah both made cakes. Fantastic since they each made a different kind, I got the best of both worlds, and I love to eat cake for breakfast. (Sick, but true.) There is no darling group photo of the event, but there is this shot of me and two cakes. It serves as proof of my mom's visit.

Bonus Josh stories: All day on my birthday he said to me, "No, it's MY birthday." Never did he concede that the birthday was not his. Also, when my family was at our house, Josh was having too much fun to eat. After everybody left and we put him to bed, he went to his door and pathetically called out, "Dad, I didn't eat steak." After about 3 minutes of hearing that again and again, Josh's dad brought him steak-in-bed.

Quirky Smirky

New York is quirky, like me. (Yeah, I know, huge stretch, but I gotta have a photo. Aren't we happy little honeymooners?)

This is the revelation of 8 quirks I don't mind admitting (to steal the words of my friend Michelle, who tagged me for this). Smirky doesn't have anything to do with it, but it rhymes with quirky in such a fun way. It's a good rhyme for teaching kids the words in the "irky" family. Anyway, on to the quirks . . .

I'm a rebel. When I was in college I had a pack of Days of the Week underwear that I wore with utter disregard as to which day of the week it was. When Josh was born I was given a pack of Days of the Week bibs, and I'm sure you can guess what I do with them. That's right, Noah wore the Sunday bib today.

I am easily amused. Little phrases like, "gold Peruvian shawl" or "refreshing peach scrub" can be just the thing I need to feel silly inside. This is a good thing since I'm such a stress-head most of the time. And if there's nothing I can find to smile at, the dusty bum story never fails to bring a giggle. (I hope I've told you that one.)

There's something about bulk. When I see things in bulk, I really feel like I need to do something with it. In a craft store I think, "Bolts of felt! I'm sure there's a whole lot I can do with that." In a hardware store I think, "So much wood! Must build." In Sam's Club I think, "Who do I know that wants a giagantic tub of Cheez-ums for Christmas?" I'm serious, I can't help myself.

I just can't stop. When I feel socially awkward, I talk more to fill the supposed silence. I know I'm saying odd things, but I feel like I need to keep making up for what I just said. Again and again and again and . . . yeah, time to stop.

The phone is scary. I get really nervous to call people a lot of the time. This is most likely because of the last item.

De-junking is such sweet sorrow. I LOVE getting rid of things. Big bags of things. More space for me! However, I have a really hard time parting with some things I've collected. Gary just barely convinced me to get rid of my spray-painted-gold Barbie (It was an award!), but every time I go through my VHS tapes, "Mystery Science Theater 3000 - Prince of Space" stays. Sure I've had it for 6 years and never watched it, but I'm positive it's a good one.

I've got high standards. 6 years ago I declared that the man I would marry would be the kind that would play with me in the corn box at Hee-Haws (yeah, another corn maze experience). This was important to me at the time, but I never did test it out, until exactly two seconds ago when I asked him about it. He said if we went, he'd play. Phew! We're made for eachother.

Go big or go home. When I see in my mind what needs to be done, I feel like I need to do all of it. Now. So, I dig in, and then either I burn out or the day does. So, I end up with personalized booklets for each student in my class, but no lesson plan for tomorrow, or a pristinely organized pantry and every dish in my house piled in the sink.

I tag mom (yep, it's time to blog it up for you), Christina, and Ashley. I'd really like to read some quirks of my sister and brother in-laws, and YOU, too, but I shan't bestow an official tag on anyone who doesn't desire one. Unless you want me to.

Right after I got that tag, I got a similar tag from my friend Anna. I've already done the quirks part of that one, but there was another part to hers where I need to say 6 nice things about the person who tagged me. Gladly!

1.Anna is a fantastic person to talk to if you're having a tough time.

2.Anna was awesome when I was dating Gary - so encouraging and happy for me.

3.Anna is generous - I always had something to wear when I was her roommate.

4.Gary says Anna is complimentary. I agree.

5. We both love laughing with Anna.

6. He also says she's thoughtful and kind. I agree and I agree. We could keep going!

You Goin' Football Game, Too?

We have taken Josh to BYU football games ever since he was in utero, so I shouldn't be shocked by his level of fanship, but I am. He was only 18 months old when we took him to the last home game last year, so surely there was no way he would really remember, right?


Well, two months later I was wearing a BYU t-shirt to bed, and he pointed to it and said, "football." Not too much later, he started pointing to the letter Y in random places (like the word "SONY" on our radio) and saying, "football." Fast forward to last month when we went to the BYU vs. UCLA game as a family. He nearly hyperventilated with excitement when he saw the huge Y on the stadium. I was still thinking there was no way he really knew what the whole football game thing meant. Then Gary said, "Hey, Josh, we're going to the football game. Do you want to come?" Did he ever! While I got things ready with Noah, Josh ran around the parking lot yelling, "Goooo, Cougars!" and "I go football game. Sit, watch football game!" It was very cute, but we already had plans in place for when he just couldn't sit anymore . . . but it never happened. He was excited to watch the WHOLE GAME. Such a feat earned him lots of popcorn and candy from older people around us.

Josh has been talking about "go cougars football game" ever since. We had the chance to go to another game this weekend, and his level of excitement has not waned. Every time the band played he'd stand up and dance, whenever the crowd would stomp on the stadium floor to make noise Josh would kick his little feet furiously (even though they were a few feet from making it to the ground), and whenever the fight song was sung he would rise and shout with the best of them. He'd say the words he knew, "Out", "You", "Strong", "Y-U!" He's especially enthusiastic about the rah, rah, go cougars part, and luckily for me I brought a camera this time. Here he is clapping along to the fight song. What he'd been waiting for weeks to do - "Goooooo, cougars!" (Josh and Gary)My family was at the game, too. My dad is at all of them actually. I swear we have not spent time coaching Josh to be a BYU fan, he just loves it. I think it goes to show that there is a gene for fanship, and I could probably make bank by isolating it and publishing my findings. Anyway, we all have fun with it, and here we all are (Sarah, Josh, me, Kristen, Kayla, Hannah, Dad, Katie, and Noah - photography by Gary). My dad took us to eat beforehand (thank you!!), and Josh was asking everyone, "You e-cited football game?" and "You goin' football game, too?"Finally, this is Josh's reaction to my request that he smile for the camera while he was trying to watch the game. Oh, and Gary and I also were present and talked and laughed and had a good time, in case I've left anyone in suspense.

p.s. Don't hate my child if you're a Ute or an Aggie or a Seasider or whatever. Genetics is genetics, he's just a boy.

Editorial: Whose Kids Are the Best

Note: This is on the edge of something that would normally be in my journal instead, but since it is a commentary on some things I blog about, I figured I could share it with anyone who will bear with reading it. I love that by calling it an editorial, it supposes that the other posts are fair and balanced reporting. I'm the editor, though, so if I say it's balanced, it's balanced!

So far in this blog, my children are adorable and innovative little scientists that evolved from monkeys. Fair assessment. Having been a kindergarten teacher, and hearing all of the things people said to me about their children is part of what makes me reflect on how I portray my own. For example, lots of people felt it necessary to tell me all about how brilliant their child was before school ever started, pretty much giving me a, "You'd better do a good job, missy," ultimatum. I decided I don't ever want to be like that, which is good, because I might have been had I not had the teaching experience. (Side notes: There are a few parents of former students who occasionally look at this blog, and no, you were absolutely not like that. Also, I know one person whose child is an actual genius, and you handle it well and should absolutely talk to the teacher about it. Hope everyone feels better. :) )

So, do I think my children are the best? Yes, absolutely! But do I think my children are better than everyone else's children? Not seriously, but one fun caveat of mother/child relationships, I think, is that everyone needs someone to think they're the best, and if your mother doesn't think so, it's tough a lot of times to find someone who does. Then kids can always know that even if they're not the best soccer player, times-tables memorizer, writer, dancer, and on and on, someone sees how wonderful they are, and thinks they're the best. I remember when Josh was about 3 weeks old, holding that tiny baby and and having an overwhelming feeling that he is a wonderful, special boy. I thought he was the greatest. But then, I started to tear up thinking there will come a time where he will face others who don't necessarily think so. I couldn't take it. "Oh, please see how wonderful my baby is," I whispered through my tears. I hope that even if he turns out to be shy or obnoxious or has funny teeth or something, people will love him.

That experience changed my perspective on teaching. I had loved the children who came through my classroom before, but after that I wanted to make extra-sure that I was trying to see each child the way their parents would. Or more than that, as Father in Heaven would. This is not an easy thing to do, in general, but I hope I'm getting better instead of worse at least. I understood more what those parents were saying, and I really don't want to be an "ultimatum" parent, but that's only a few people, and even those are just loving their kids.

Now, I'm not a classroom teacher, but I talk to people everyday about their kids and mine. I don't want to compete. I actually really don't like it. I want to be able to be happy about the successes of other kids, and let their parents know their kids are the best. And in turn, it's fun to share my stories and have other people cheer me on in my bumbling efforts to parent. My neighbor is really good at this. She gave Josh a high-5 the other day when I told her he went potty, and was really happy, even though she wishes her child would do the same. (Note: Josh is extremely random in his bathroom attempts, so this is in no way a brag.)

So, when I blog, I'm being silly about a lot of things, but I hope, as their mother, I do my job of showing how my kids are great. A job's a job, man.

Enjoying Our Local Canyon

We went up the nearest canyon on Friday night and had a cookout with some friends from our neighborhood. It was great to depart from our usual ice cream-and-TV Friday night routine (although I still love the routine, seriously), and great to get a chance to get to enjoy the gorgeous fall and chat with great people. (Yes, great is my adjective of choice, currently.)

While talking, the men determined who will win the next presidential election, the women determined when the right time is to reveal a pregnancy, and the children determined how many marshmallows and glasses of Diet Pepsi they could have before their parents caught on. It was also determined that if Gary and I want to continue naming our children after Old Testament people (which we didn't set out to do on purpose, by the way, we don't consider ourselves theme-namers yet), we will probably somewhere along the line need to name a child Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz. (Sp?) Here are my boys lounging in the great outdoors.
Josh and the other little boy bonded over marshmallows and the phrase, "Go, Cougars!"

Fun friends . . . (okay, one of them is me, but there were other friends there.)

The kids in cahoots. (Alternate caption: Josh is already experiencing the ratios enjoyed by Mormon college guys. He's probably asking who wants the chance to make him some cookies.)

Good times. Special shout-out to Liz for photography and getting me out of the house. You're so much better than I am at getting people together.

Enhance Your Blog-Reading Experience

Lately, each time I make a comment on a blog, I try to pronounce the randomly generated letters (you know, the security ones that make it so hacker programs and monkeys can't comment) as I type them. Give it a try, it could just add a little kick to your day.

Look Quickly Before He Grows Again

My brand new baby is 4 months old! (I am allowed to be sappy about my baby.) His visit to the doctor yesterday revealed that he is 16 pounds, 26 inches long, and "perfect", to use the doctor's words. He cooed adorably and batted his large eyes at her to get her to say that. 26 inches long is apparently in the 90th percentile, so Josh, whose height is merely average, had better start weighing the consequences of each object he drops on Noah. Here are pictures of Noah at 2 weeks, 2 months, and 4 months (the other day). If you scroll down fast enough, you can actually watch his cheeks grow.

letter to Ashley

I found this letter recently, and I hope it's long enough ago that it's okay if I publish it (almost 2 years ago on a blog . . .) I have felt really strongly lately that I need to keep track of our family history, and I feel like stuff like this shows what I was thinking a feeling at the time. So, if you get this off the RSS feed, ignore.

Hi Ashley!

Hope you are having a great week! I am jealous that you have a basement. I really want a place to send the kids and toys where people can't see the second they walk in my door. That's okay, I feel pretty lucky to have a house, so welcome to my mess!

I took a parenting class at BYU where one of the things we talked about was how we were parented. Oh, goodness, a ton of people in that class had stories of things they had to overcome. Doesn't make it any easier for you, but sometimes it's good to know you're not alone. My mom always talks about me being her "experiment" because I was her first child, and she apologizes to me, but whatever. No one is perfect, and no matter what, I always felt loved. That's the most important thing, that I have always known she loved me, even if there was a day she yelled at me a lot. I really don't remember a lot of those, because none of them matter to me. If you're doing you're best, your children will feel that, and it IS a step in the right direction that the hole is in the wall. You can't just erase your past or change your inner feelings with a snap of your fingers, but you can do your best to consciously make sure you don't do things you'll regret. It's a huge thing! I truly believe also that as you try hard and pray for the atonement to help overcome your weaknesses you will be granted more patience, little by little. The steps are small, but when you look back after a few years I know you'll see a lot of progress.

Yes, I was a kindergarten teacher for 3 years. I had a hard time when we first moved to this house and suddenly I was a stay-at-home mom. I loved being with Josh more often, and seeing all of the growth he was making, but I didn't really know what to do and I didn't have anyone to talk to for most of the day. I missed having something I could really sink my teeth into, and I felt bad that I didn't get a chance to keep making improvements as a professional. I started going to play group and enrichment as much as I could to try and get to know people, and little by little I started to have people to talk to. As for talking to the neighbors first, I realized after a while that I couldn't just wait around for people to come to me. I have actually just started to try to get to know new people more, and as I think about things to do for people, just in the last couple of weeks I've thought of more than I can actually do. Every time I go out and say hi to a new person I come back feeling better. I had an idea a while back that Josh and I could make cookies together and then go deliver them to meet new people. I like doing that, except I've realize that cooking and delivering has to happen on two separate days for us. I always go to the local library to see when story time is for something to do. Turns out, here in Tooele county, they run on volunteers, so I volunteered to do story time every now and then. I also signed Josh up for a music class. It was fun, and it gave me ideas. I went home and took some toilet paper tubes (the cardboard in the middle), filled them with various things (rice and dried beans), and taped cardstock on the ends. Voila, shakers! Then, I took empty oatmeal containers (not instant, the oats that come in cardboard cylinders with plastic lids), and taped the lids down. Drums! We turn on music and dance around and play our instruments. Josh loves it. Now that it's nice outside we go to the park more often than other stuff. I try to ask someone to come with us, although it doesn't always happen.

Having activities to do helps, but I am also trying to change my heart/attitude. I got a strong feeling last year that as long as I read my scriptures and exercise I will feel good. When I do well with those things I do well overall, so I know that was personal revelation for me. Sometimes I do better than others, but I try to make goals. You know, just try. My husband comes from a family of 10 children. I asked my mother in law (who lives in LA, where my husband is from, and I love her) how she survived. She said she just had to make up her mind to devote her life to her children. I'm trying to take that advice to heart. It changes my attitude from, "Why can't you just sleep!" to, "Okay, I'll read and sing to you for as long as you need." Don't think I'm there yet, I'm really far away, but it helps to try to think that way.

I haven't been in contact with Sister Chaston for a while, although I think about her. I went to her bridal shower, and haven't seen her face to face since then. I'm going to try to get in touch again. Elders Ibiam and Perkins have beautiful wives and cute little children (2 each, I think), Elder Kreitzer passed away, and I would love to hear what Wolfensberger is doing. Deeds, too. I talk with two of my companions you wouldn't know (Leek and Onstott), and have recently been thinking of all of them.

Well, speaking of LA, my husband is a huge Dodgers fan, and they're doing well tonight. Hope my email isn't too rambly as I try to think in spite of it!

Love ya,

Emily

Inside the Head of David Archuleta

When my sister Sarah asked if we would like to accompany her to a corn maze shaped like the upper-half of David Archuleta, we said of course. It turns out, it was more than just a corn maze, it was Cornbelly's, a full-out pumpkin festival! Since you may be new to the world of pumpkin festivals as I was, I'll further explain - there were slides, hayrides, jumping things, haunted things, pumpkins, corn mazes, and other such fall-related gaiety.

Here we are, being greeted by Mr. Cornbelly himself. So welcoming. (Yes, we don't have the best flash, but the Cornbelly's spirit still shines through.)

When we got into the actual corn maze, songs sung by David Archuleta were being played constantly. We made it through in pretty good time due to Josh's toddler-navigation skills (he was really trying to look at his "map") and light-up shoes. Here's everyone (Sarah, Dave, Josh, Gary, and Noah) emerging from the corn.

My favorite comments heard that night:

• (By my sister Sarah) "They've played a couple of David Archuleta songs while we were waiting for you, and it makes me pretty excited to maze through his face."
• (By a random college guy on a date) "This is pretty much my dream come true, wandering around aimlessly for hours listening to David Archuleta."
• (By Josh) "Oh, corn, gweat . . .", "Oh, stairs, gweat . . .", "Oh, jumping, gweat . . ."
• (By Gary) "Let's try to get into the car before the Cornbelly's song plays again."

Gary wasn't as excited as I to sit in this chair in public, but I love him for it.

Finally, here are our children as farm animals.

As Sarah said, the whole thing made Josh's week . . . maybe mine, too. At any rate, I got my pumpkin festival fix.

Free Ride at Our House

I considered writing about Josh when he "helped" me give Noah his medicine by putting an ointment that is for his bum in his mouth ("Here go, Oah," I heard him say when my back was turned for 2 seconds), and considered it again when I was changing Noah's diaper and Josh dumped his entire glass of water on Noah, but the following incident is what sends me to my computer. CAUTION: DO NOT LET YOUR TODDLER READ THIS.

Yesterday, after an enjoyable time at the park, Josh suddenly became ridiculously tired, and had a complete meltdown. Don't know what triggered it (I wasn't talking to the neighbor for that long, was I?), but he just laid down on someone's lawn on the way home and started crying. I finally got him home, him screaming all the way, I punched in the code for the garage, and turned around to go get my mail. "I want open garage!" I heard Josh scream angrily from behind me. "Whatever, have your tantrum," I thought, as I slowly meandered to the mailbox. "Mom, garage, garage!" Josh screamed from behind me. I just patiently practiced my tantrum ignoring as I retrieved my mail. But then, I looked up, and in the words of my mother, "Emily became a track star again." Josh had grabbed onto the garage door, probably thinking he'd stop it from opening, and had ridden it all the way to the top. He was hanging 7 feet in the air screaming, his little arms and face and neck all straining to keep holding on.

After I got him down I started laughing, because once he was safe is was pretty darn funny. Unfortunately, the girl across the street saw the whole thing, so hopefully she's a non-judger. Gary and I took a picture this morning so we will remember this feat. Looking at the bottom of the garage door, we seriously don't know how he held on. You'll have to mentally photoshop Gary out, we weren't about to have him do it again.Then, a special shout-out to the guy who puts up with feet in his stomach with a smile.

Letters

This is from 2008, RSS people just ignore. Another in the "keeping track" series. It's for me, me, meeeeee!

I hope it's okay that I forwarded your letter to my mom. I wanted her to know what you said about her because I know it will make her so happy. Plus, sometimes my mom is way better at saying things than I am - she's got a lot more experience being a mom than me. I don't know if I ever told you that her mom was a good lady, but not the best mom. She screamed a ton, swore like a sailor, and slapped my mom if she didn't like what she said. So, my mom knows a lot about overcoming one's upbringing. She did a great job, and always says she hopes we can do even better than her. I don't know, but it's amazing that because of her efforts, my kids are now two generations away from such treatment.


Being a stay at home mom was a big adjustment for me. I taught for the first year of Josh's life, while my husband was finishing his masters' program. It was really hard to be a good mom and a good teacher at the same time, and I really don't want that life for my children. However, when I first started staying home it was a struggle to get through each day. As I've done it more and more, I've started to learn how to enjoy the kids and my life. It's not easy by any means. I am exhausted much of the time. But that Anna Quindlen quote in Elder Ballard's talk really gets to me. I don't want to wish these years away and then wish they were back. So, I need to have a change of heart.

What kind of mom am I? I like to read to my kids, dance around in our pajamas, sit on the kitchen floor and eat crackers and cheese, you know, whatever they like. Some days I lose sight of things and get really frustrated when it takes me so darn long to get dressed and get out of the house. And then when I come home from the store, there's still a breakfast mess and yogurty footprints on the counter. Adjusting to 2 wasn't easy, but I'm getting there. I'd like more sleep, but Noah is so darn precious at this age, I'm just trying to drink him in. I try to keep the house clean, but it gets really overwhelming if I worry about it too much. I also think two year old boys have a permanent layer of grime one them, and there's nothing I can do. I love to give him chances to get dirty, but I scrub him up every night. Yes, we bought our house here. It's small, 1600 square feet, but the floor plan is good, and they were able to fit 4 bedrooms in. We were only looking for 3, so it was a bonus. We really like the community. It's pretty and quiet and lots of families. Tell me about where you live.

I have felt really overwhelmed when listening to conference talks, too. I have to keep telling myself that the Lord wouldn't want me to feel that way, so I should just relax, but relaxing isn't always my strong suit. Please know that it is one of Satan's lies that you are not worthy of love from the Father. He wants us to feel like we can't make it, because that's the first step to not making it. It works on me, too, and it's just the worst. The Savior made a tremendous sacrifice so we could have a chance to strengthen our weaknesses, and he wants to help us. It's hard to remember, and a lot of times I find I don't make progress until I plead for it. The Lord accepts baby steps, though, I really feel like that's all I can do. You deserve time off and time away so you can refresh and recharge, not as a reward for certain things accomplished. This doula thing is a great goal for you, it will be something to get into.
.

Speaking Tamantaman and the Rabid Mouse on the Loose

To respond to the concern over the mouse, yes, it is still on the loose. Gary set a humane trap, but it did not take the bait. Josh keeps picking the trap up and saying, "Come, mouse. Come eat a food in house." That's not working, either. Soon, we will have to set an inhumane trap, as I heard on the radio that rabies shots are in low supply.

I was reminded yesterday of Tamantama. My sister made the country up when she was 4, and even taught the family a little of the language. One thing I remember is that if you want to say, "Holy cow," you simply say, "Holy cow, jellyfish." That got me thinking. Probably the hardest language possible to learn would be one where all the words are already in your language, they just mean entirely different things. Just think about it . . . your brain would nearly explode learning it. It could also be really awkward for a new learner. Like, what if, "You look horrible in that dress," was how you have to say, "Congratulations on your wedding." Or, in order to say, "I'm starving, let's eat," you have to say, "I just hit a cat." See, it'd be hard to adjust.

When I was in linguistics class I heard of a guy who did a master's degree project where he made up his own language, with a complete guide to grammar and syntax. He then taught it to his children, and they speak it around the house. So, now I'm thinking I might want to get my master's in linguistics after all . . .

Above animal pronounced "giant squid" in Tamantaman.

I Think About Stuff

People with interests other than children have probably already branded me as One Who Only Posts of Children. They do take up most of my physical and mental energy, and I'd rather document their tiny kid doings for the future than a lot of other things because they won't always be tiny kids. However, I do spend a lot of time thinking about Stuff. Here's a random sampler.Politics - There's a lot going on right now, and Gary and I have spent a ton of time analyzing it. (It makes us feel important. :) ) I don't wish to open a bag of worms by sharing any of my conclusions, but I do want to say that all of this thinking led me to have a dream the other night where I was being quizzed on John King's map. I was doing very well, until I had to say whether Indiana went red or blue in the last election. Aaaah, think hard, Em . . . I also want to say that's one thing I really love about Gary. (Bad segue, John King's map has little to do with Gary.) Gary doesn't just label candidates without really knowing facts. He and I try really hard together to be fair and consider various points.


The Issues - You know, the issues. The economy, health care, energy, national security . . . For example, global warming. Like I said, I try to evaluate things fairly, and my personal jury is still out on the human impact on global warming. (Yes, there are literally 12 people in my head arguing over global warming. It's obnoxious.) I've seen scientific evidence on both sides, and I don't want to believe or not believe things for political reasons. In the meantime, I try to be good to the environment, but choose not to return to the agrarian lifestyle of my ancestors. Sound fair? I try to only think a little about the . . .


Yikes! There is a mouse running down my stairs and Gary is not home. Don't remind me that I kept rats as pets in the past, this is scary.


Nice (and true) illustration of how I can only think so long about the issues. This post was going to get light and silly and talk of dancing and frivolity, but now I can't focus. A mouse is about to eat my babies' toes. And my toes, too. Don't worry, I think about stuff other than babies.


Oh, and please don't send me articles on the true or falseness of global warming. It was just an example, and when I have to know I will assemble my team of experts.

Need 2 Eggs

"Two eggs, mom!" I heard Josh say from downstairs. "Oh, no," I thought, "Will he still be running around the couch with the eggs or are they already all over the place?" (Opening the fridge has been a recent problem.) When I looked down the stairs, instead of disaster, I saw Josh with a box of Banana Nut Muffin mix, pointing to the recipe on the back saying, "Make a treat. Two eggs!" Looking at the recipe, I saw that, indeed, there were 2 eggs pictured. I couldn't let this adorableness go unrewarded, so I let him help me make the mix into some faux-banana bread. He was really excited when we got to the 2 eggs part. Here he is, baking away. Yes, I'm a fool and I let him "try" the scissors. Gary was delighted by the treat, so it looks like Josh knew just what to do. Now he thinks he can make any mix in the pantry he wants if he tells me how many eggs he'll need. Sorry buddy, mommy only eats brownies every other day. In other news, my sister loaned me this baby chair thingy, and Noah loves it.

Evolution

In college I took a class called Social Development that devoted an entire section of the textbook to, "Why Parents Love Their Children." One of the suggestions was that children evolved to be cute so their parents would want to take care of them, and thus the species of the human child has survived. "Bah!" I scoffed when I read it. "These people don't understand what life is all about, and that's why they write things like this."

Now I am the mother of a 2 year old. He is very cute and fun to have around, but he is currently at a stage where he has to "try" everything by himself. He makes his own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, he snaps himself into his own car seat, he pushes his baby brother in his stroller . . . I try to help him to learn new skills and feel good about himself by letting him do a lot of things. However, there are times, like Monday when he insisted on pushing the shopping cart and kept ramming it into our car, or today when he wouldn't let me help him pour his juice and it got absolutely all over the place, when I look down at his cute little face and think, "Evolution is really on your side, buddy."

Gratuitous photo of my children follows. Just try and yell at them.

P.S. After viewing the post, the Josh/Monkey connection seemed even more obvious. Have you seen that kid climb? Hang on things? Make monkey noises? Watch Curious George? Where are my college text books?!

Formatting

It's pretty obvious I don't know how to make things show up the way I planned them formatting-wise, but I'm hoping I'll learn. Is it possible to make it look lovely without learning HTML?

Little Scientists

My children have been actively involved in testing various hypotheses they have in physics, physiology, and sociology. Here are some of their discoveries.


*If you pull the ring on the cow it will play music (and mom will have to take pictures of such adorable preciousness).








*If you throw a light bulb at ceramic tile, it will shatter into more pieces than were in the original light bulb. When asked why he did it, Josh said, "I throw it. I break it." Oh, of course. (I would not have taken this picture if I didn't already have the camera in hand. Snapping photos keeps me from losing it.)


*If you put dad's deodorant on the cut you got from breaking the light bulb, your cut will not be healed, but you will smell great.




*If your mom is feeding or taking pictures of your brother, you can get away with a whole lot.

*If you pull your shoulder up and not only rotate your hips like you've been doing, you will be able to roll off of the play mat you have spent 3 months on. (I missed it, and only saw the results - but look at him rolling. Or look at him rolled . . .?)



*If you scream for hours straight, several days in a row, your mom will take you back to the doctor. (Is there a record for hours in a row screamed by an infant? I told Noah it didn't count unless there was a representative from Guiness there to witness it, but he was going for the record anyway. It turns out the poor baby's ear infection was worse than it was one week ago when I first took him to the doctor.)



*If you stack up the couch cushions, you will get a lot more air when you're couch jumping.



*If you throw all of the plastic cups and bottles out of the cupboard, each one will make a different sound when landing on the floor. "Sound, Mom," Josh would laugh after throwing each one. (Feeding Noah at the time, see earlier discovery.)



*If kids do a lot of experiments, Mom will turn on Super Why and disappear into the shower for the entire episode. (Aaaah . . . much better. Now it's all adorable.)

Innovations

My innovative and environmentally-conscious toddler recently did this to "cook da corn" :

It's brilliant. The hot water cooks your corn and it is clean and steaming at the same time as your dinner plates. You use less hot water, less energy . . . move over Al Gore! (I haven't actually gone through with the test pilot as I removed his handiwork after taking the picture. I'm a wet blanket.)

A couple of days later he found a paper towel tube I'd thrown in the garbage (I know, ew, but that's a 2 year old boy), and set this up:

That's my boy, reduce, reuse, recycle . . . (Don't everyone at once send me a dollar to buy him a real tee, it's not that sad. :) ) Another good innovation would be something that would keep his shorts on him. Lederhosen? Man, those Germans know what to do.

He got me thinking about things I'd like to see happen. Dates with my husband is definitely one. Don't have any brilliant ideas yet, but here's one that worked a couple of months ago:

It would also help me a lot to get exercise, and I have actually been trying. However, the other day as I was "running," I just knew that the people in the cars zipping by me were saying, "How does she do it? The movement of her feet is slow enough to be imperceptible to the human eye," and, "Dear, give me your cell phone, we should call 911." I really wanted them to know, "Oh, that girl is 3 months post-partum, I understand the situation." Then I wouldn't feel so silly. But how to convey the message? Put it on the bum of my sweatpants? Not really my generation . To strike down other ideas I've had, it's a lot more difficult running with a sandwich board, and flagging people down to explain is seemingly more awkward. Maybe the right innovation is a T-shirt with a REALLY large screen-print of this on both sides:

I don't know about that idea, either, but at least now you've seen a picture of what I have to deal with every day. Ain't life grand?

Changing the World

I have always planned on changing the world. I was planning on learning 7 languages and translating for the United Nations or working for the CIA (um, yes, I did read a little much), but didn't quite make it there before becoming a kindergarten teacher and then a stay at home mom. I felt like I was in my house all day doing not affecting anything, when I realized how incredibly much I am doing - even if I do nothing else (although I plan to, don't worry), I am shaping the souls of these little people. (Anyone who hasn't blocked out the 80's may now start singing, "We are the world, we are the children . . .") For instance, today so far I have changed 4 diapers, wiped 17 noses, cleaned up 2 spills and am delaying cleaning another, and played at the park. The world is changed! Oh, the deepness of my first post! By the way, I have two children with one bum and one nose each, but they are a little sick right now.

So, this blog is devoted to the little things that make me smile. And think. Maybe even a few things that make me want to write my congressman. :) Itty bitty steps to changing at least a small part of the world. You never know, this is the blogosphere. I always hear on CNN what "the bloggers" are saying, as if it matters. While I can't at this point fathom how people typing out their frustrations on their computers is, for example, deciding the next president of the U.S., maybe if I mention that when I rode in Curt Bramble's hot air balloon for new teacher orientation he didn't seem completely sincere, I will be invited to be on the Nightside Project. Nah. For now I will leave you with a photo of my three guys who make it all worth it (this is Noah's first time to "shoot hoops") . . . and get after that spill. (Yogurt on the table and light fixture. Not kidding.)