Hey, all! So I just wanted to explain one minor change I've made to this blog. A while ago when (I think?) google bought out blogger, it somehow changed so that I didn't get any email notification when people left comments! This means that I have, occasionally, been known to sit reloading my own blog in case there were comments that I wasn't seeing. Which is a little on the pathetic side, I have to admit.
So in order to not do that, I've given myself the power to moderate comments. Which is totally unnecessary, because none of you has ever left comments that needed any censoring on my part. You guys are great commenters!
But hopefully this way I can get back to receiving an email if someone leaves a comment, rather than having to hit the re-load button. Then I won't have to feel so lame, which would be nice.
Soon up-- the full report on Christmas!
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Someone is Lying to Me
You know how those parenting magazines are always telling you to let your toddler help you out around the house? "Little kids love to help out!" they'll gush, followed up by some testimonial of how some parent rewards their child for doing these chores and everyone is just so happy and pleased with the whole situation.
It's not that they're wrong-- Ryder LOVES to help me fold laundry. If your definition of "help me fold" is "jump on everything and/or throw it on the floor." He also loves to help me empty the dishwasher. This usually just means he hands everything to me. That wouldn't be too much of a problem except the first thing he grabs are usually the knives. Or anything made of glass. So it makes emptying the dishwasher feel like an Olympic race against disaster. On the plus side, I can get the dishwasher emptied in about three minutes flat. Possibly less, if I washed a lot of knives that time around.
That isn't the real problem, though. The real problem is Ryder's perpetually snotty nose. Which was rounded off nicely this week with a nasty cough. And since toddlers pretty much love nothing more than rubbing at their snotty noses with their hands (and then wiping those hands anywhere that suits their fancy), the absolute last thing I want is him touching my clean dishes!
So I tend to not be very good about letting Ryder help me.
One of my many failings as a parent for which I am unapologetic.
And now, I need to go try and wash snot off my throw pillows.
It's not that they're wrong-- Ryder LOVES to help me fold laundry. If your definition of "help me fold" is "jump on everything and/or throw it on the floor." He also loves to help me empty the dishwasher. This usually just means he hands everything to me. That wouldn't be too much of a problem except the first thing he grabs are usually the knives. Or anything made of glass. So it makes emptying the dishwasher feel like an Olympic race against disaster. On the plus side, I can get the dishwasher emptied in about three minutes flat. Possibly less, if I washed a lot of knives that time around.
That isn't the real problem, though. The real problem is Ryder's perpetually snotty nose. Which was rounded off nicely this week with a nasty cough. And since toddlers pretty much love nothing more than rubbing at their snotty noses with their hands (and then wiping those hands anywhere that suits their fancy), the absolute last thing I want is him touching my clean dishes!
So I tend to not be very good about letting Ryder help me.
One of my many failings as a parent for which I am unapologetic.
And now, I need to go try and wash snot off my throw pillows.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Ryder Talking
Ryder has lots to say. But most of it isn't in any language that I can understand. Right before his 2-year check up, Craig and I tried to count all his words. And we couldn't make it to ten. (His doctor has recommended he be evaluated for speech therapy. My plan is to get around to that some time after Christmas... Mostly I'm just hoping that by then Ryder will have blossomed into a talking fool and I won't have to bother at all.)
The funny thing is, for all that he doesn't say, the words he can say keep changing! He used to just say, "Yah!" (He sort of sounded German, actually. Or possibly Russian? Except with more joyous enthusiasm than I picture emanating from either of those cultures...) Then it morphed into "Yep!" (still enthusiastic). And now it's turned into "Yesh!" So can I count those as three words? My favorite was the other morning when I gave him his morning bottle of warm milk and tucked him back into his crib for a few more minutes of sleepy time. I kissed his forehead, whispered, "I love you, Ryder," and he heartily responded, "Ah, yesh!"
Ah, yes, of course you love me, mommy! I love the confidence.
Of course he can say Mommy and Daddy, although he likes to call me other things that I don't really understand, like I think he calls me Abba sometimes or something. "Rara" can refer to Kendra or Bentley and I think possibly himself, too. He also says doggy, although that sounds suspiciously like Daddy... And seeing pretty much any grown man makes him miss Daddy and start yelling for him. That, or else he has really bad vision, because he thinks pretty much every male cast member of Glee looks like Daddy... Despite this limited vocabulary, he manages to express a lot. My favorite is when he'll walk into a room, raise his hands up questioningly and wonder, "Daddeee...?" It gets the message across just as well as a "Where is" would have! He even would sing a song that consisted of crooning, "Momma, Dadda, Dadda, Momma." And it was really sweet.
Just recently he added his first adjective to his vocabulary, and that word is: cool.
And it only applies to cars. And only certain cars, at that. He will empty my diaper bag searching for "Coo coo cars" and the ones that don't meet this criteria get tossed aside.
So now the Momma Dadda song has been replaced by a Coo Coo Car song.
Naturally.
He's also recently started adding "f" sounds to the ends of words. So "car" has become "carf," which-- when you can't say "r's," just sounds like "cough." And "no" has become "nofe." I have no idea why.
I guess he's just figuring things out in that head of his. Some day I'll hear all about it, I'm sure! But in the meantime, I'm glad we have such cool cool cars for him to play with!
The funny thing is, for all that he doesn't say, the words he can say keep changing! He used to just say, "Yah!" (He sort of sounded German, actually. Or possibly Russian? Except with more joyous enthusiasm than I picture emanating from either of those cultures...) Then it morphed into "Yep!" (still enthusiastic). And now it's turned into "Yesh!" So can I count those as three words? My favorite was the other morning when I gave him his morning bottle of warm milk and tucked him back into his crib for a few more minutes of sleepy time. I kissed his forehead, whispered, "I love you, Ryder," and he heartily responded, "Ah, yesh!"
Ah, yes, of course you love me, mommy! I love the confidence.
Of course he can say Mommy and Daddy, although he likes to call me other things that I don't really understand, like I think he calls me Abba sometimes or something. "Rara" can refer to Kendra or Bentley and I think possibly himself, too. He also says doggy, although that sounds suspiciously like Daddy... And seeing pretty much any grown man makes him miss Daddy and start yelling for him. That, or else he has really bad vision, because he thinks pretty much every male cast member of Glee looks like Daddy... Despite this limited vocabulary, he manages to express a lot. My favorite is when he'll walk into a room, raise his hands up questioningly and wonder, "Daddeee...?" It gets the message across just as well as a "Where is" would have! He even would sing a song that consisted of crooning, "Momma, Dadda, Dadda, Momma." And it was really sweet.
Just recently he added his first adjective to his vocabulary, and that word is: cool.
And it only applies to cars. And only certain cars, at that. He will empty my diaper bag searching for "Coo coo cars" and the ones that don't meet this criteria get tossed aside.
So now the Momma Dadda song has been replaced by a Coo Coo Car song.
Naturally.
He's also recently started adding "f" sounds to the ends of words. So "car" has become "carf," which-- when you can't say "r's," just sounds like "cough." And "no" has become "nofe." I have no idea why.
I guess he's just figuring things out in that head of his. Some day I'll hear all about it, I'm sure! But in the meantime, I'm glad we have such cool cool cars for him to play with!
Monday, December 17, 2012
That Whole Pants Thing
I didn't hear about the feminist call to arms until CJane blogged about it. And I will admit right here and now that I never bothered to read the original blog posts that got it all started. Because I already knew that I wasn't interested in wearing pants to church-- partly because skirts are a LOT more comfortable in my pregnant state, but mostly because I don't think it's appropriate to stage a protest at church. I go to church to worship. And I go to see my friends and to do the things I'm asked to do-- teach lessons, herd children around, provide a musical number, or whatever. I go so that I can strengthen my own testimony. And partake of the sacrament and renew my covenants.
The way our church is run, wherein we believe that our leaders are called by God, I'm not sure that it's ever appropriate to stage a protest. But if you do have problems with the church (and these problems don't mean that you simply stop going), I guess a more appropriate outlet would be to write to the leaders or something. Wearing pants one Sunday is such a localized thing, I can't see how it would really accomplish anything.
So I didn't really agree with the pants protest (and admittedly, maybe reading the actual sources would have changed my mind, but I kind of doubt it). And in light of Friday's tragedy, worrying about a Sunday dress code seemed beyond silly to me. There are so many more serious problems in our world that we should be working to address than the issue of what we wear to church (especially in a church where the official statement on dress and grooming doesn't mention anything as specific as whether or not women should wear pants).
But I will admit that I really enjoyed reading many of the other blog posts that sprung up-- the discussion that this protest generated was fascinating to me, and a lot of posts really spoke to me. So if you've been following the pants protest, here are my favorite contributions to the dialogue:
Heather, at Women in the Scriptures, wrote about how she would be wearing a skirt, but wouldn't be bothered by others wearing pants. She then talked about how she had learned not to "shelve" issues she had, but rather to think of putting them on a stair, and she would strive to climb to that point where she had reached understanding. Beautiful. I sometimes worry that I'm a little too good at putting things on the shelf and forgetting about them. Using issues to find things to study and pray about and ultimately strengthen your testimony is a much better way of dealing with the questions we will all inevitably have about religion.
Jessie, at Bloggity-Blog, had my favorite list of points both for and against the pants thing. I pretty much agreed with everything she said. And she's funny, too, so bonus points for that!
And then Brandon went and summed up all the feelings about Book of Mormon Girl that I hadn't bothered to acknowledge to myself and in the same blog post, linked the single best explanation of Mormon Feminism that I have EVER read. Honestly, it blew me away. If you only click on one link in this whole post, choose that last one. I think I need to read it again, it was so rich in doctrine.
So, yeah, to sum up: I didn't particularly agree with Pants Day, but I did enjoy the discussion it engendered.
(See what I did there?)
The way our church is run, wherein we believe that our leaders are called by God, I'm not sure that it's ever appropriate to stage a protest. But if you do have problems with the church (and these problems don't mean that you simply stop going), I guess a more appropriate outlet would be to write to the leaders or something. Wearing pants one Sunday is such a localized thing, I can't see how it would really accomplish anything.
So I didn't really agree with the pants protest (and admittedly, maybe reading the actual sources would have changed my mind, but I kind of doubt it). And in light of Friday's tragedy, worrying about a Sunday dress code seemed beyond silly to me. There are so many more serious problems in our world that we should be working to address than the issue of what we wear to church (especially in a church where the official statement on dress and grooming doesn't mention anything as specific as whether or not women should wear pants).
But I will admit that I really enjoyed reading many of the other blog posts that sprung up-- the discussion that this protest generated was fascinating to me, and a lot of posts really spoke to me. So if you've been following the pants protest, here are my favorite contributions to the dialogue:
Heather, at Women in the Scriptures, wrote about how she would be wearing a skirt, but wouldn't be bothered by others wearing pants. She then talked about how she had learned not to "shelve" issues she had, but rather to think of putting them on a stair, and she would strive to climb to that point where she had reached understanding. Beautiful. I sometimes worry that I'm a little too good at putting things on the shelf and forgetting about them. Using issues to find things to study and pray about and ultimately strengthen your testimony is a much better way of dealing with the questions we will all inevitably have about religion.
Jessie, at Bloggity-Blog, had my favorite list of points both for and against the pants thing. I pretty much agreed with everything she said. And she's funny, too, so bonus points for that!
And then Brandon went and summed up all the feelings about Book of Mormon Girl that I hadn't bothered to acknowledge to myself and in the same blog post, linked the single best explanation of Mormon Feminism that I have EVER read. Honestly, it blew me away. If you only click on one link in this whole post, choose that last one. I think I need to read it again, it was so rich in doctrine.
So, yeah, to sum up: I didn't particularly agree with Pants Day, but I did enjoy the discussion it engendered.
(See what I did there?)
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Visiting Santa
For the second year now, our ward Christmas party didn't include Santa coming. Last year I understood how it didn't mesh with the theme of "Breakfast in Jerusalem" very well. But I have no idea why he wasn't here this time-- we have a guy with a great Santa suit who LOVES being Santa, so for crying out loud why are we not making good use of this??? (And for anyone out there arguing that we ought to be focusing on Jesus, I say that there's plenty of room in a kid's heart for ALL of that magic. And a Bah Humbug to you for even suggesting it!)
Anyway. This left us trying to find our own way to get the kids to visit Santa. Which is tough since I despise the local mall and don't want to pay a fortune for a portrait there. Fortunately, just like last year, a good friend came through for me! This time it was Sarah, who told me that they had a lovely Santa set-up at the Merrifield Nursery nearby AND it was free AND, she said, the Santa was AWESOME. And she was right. We had to wait a little while to see the Big Guy, but that was because he sat and chatted with the kids for a good ten minutes before they bothered to snap any pictures. And it's a good thing he did, because that time breaking the ice was the only reason that Bentley and Ryder were willing to step foot near him.
He was a real pro, though. When Kendra announced that she wanted a horse for Christmas (!!!), he looked at her seriously and asked if we had a barn for a horse. She told him it could stay in the house or possibly our shed, but he insisted that those weren't very good options for a horse. Thank you, Santa. He smiled at Bentley's suggestion that what Ryder needed was something to put in his mouth that would make him be able to talk. And when he asked if the kids were getting along and I gave them the sideways glance, he told them that it made Mommy, Santa, and God sad when they were fighting. They nodded seriously and promised to do better.
All of you in Manassas-- go check out Merrifield Nursery (off of Wellington Road)! It's definitely worth the wait!
Anyway. This left us trying to find our own way to get the kids to visit Santa. Which is tough since I despise the local mall and don't want to pay a fortune for a portrait there. Fortunately, just like last year, a good friend came through for me! This time it was Sarah, who told me that they had a lovely Santa set-up at the Merrifield Nursery nearby AND it was free AND, she said, the Santa was AWESOME. And she was right. We had to wait a little while to see the Big Guy, but that was because he sat and chatted with the kids for a good ten minutes before they bothered to snap any pictures. And it's a good thing he did, because that time breaking the ice was the only reason that Bentley and Ryder were willing to step foot near him.
He was a real pro, though. When Kendra announced that she wanted a horse for Christmas (!!!), he looked at her seriously and asked if we had a barn for a horse. She told him it could stay in the house or possibly our shed, but he insisted that those weren't very good options for a horse. Thank you, Santa. He smiled at Bentley's suggestion that what Ryder needed was something to put in his mouth that would make him be able to talk. And when he asked if the kids were getting along and I gave them the sideways glance, he told them that it made Mommy, Santa, and God sad when they were fighting. They nodded seriously and promised to do better.
All of you in Manassas-- go check out Merrifield Nursery (off of Wellington Road)! It's definitely worth the wait!
One of My Favorite Pictures
I'm working on sorting out the storage capacities of this blog. I deleted a few albums off my Picassa web account (now I just have to hope that our computer somehow gets destroyed, since they're only saved in one place), so for now I have a little more space. Enough to share this gem from the Thanksgiving Day parade:
Whether you like Sponge Bob or hate him, this is a totally creepy picture. It looks like he's about to eat Kendra and me.
Which is kind of what makes it awesome.
Ten days until Christmas, and Craig and I just finished our shopping yesterday-- that extra week of November really helped us out! I can't remember a time when we were so on top of things!
Merry merry Christmas, everyone! (To be repeated in every blog post until the joyous day!)
Whether you like Sponge Bob or hate him, this is a totally creepy picture. It looks like he's about to eat Kendra and me.
Which is kind of what makes it awesome.
Ten days until Christmas, and Craig and I just finished our shopping yesterday-- that extra week of November really helped us out! I can't remember a time when we were so on top of things!
Merry merry Christmas, everyone! (To be repeated in every blog post until the joyous day!)
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Too True
Rebecca Smylie is one of several people who I have never met, but whose blog I follow. I hope that doesn't make me creepy. (One of my sisters knows her. And a friend. And I did a guest post on the blog she and a few other people used to write for called The Apron Stage. So I feel like I ought to know her... I'm not sure if that makes me more or less creepy, though...) (Also, if by any chance you want to be creepy like me, her blog is linked on my sidebar over there on the left.) Anyway, she just had her third child, and wrote the following on her blog:
"A couple of days after we brought him home I had this moment where I did a mental check to make sure I knew where all of my kids were. Jane in the bedroom. Adelaide in the living room. Levi Little in his chair. I felt my mind split in three directions and knew I would forever be that much more divided. I can actually feel my mind working slower. So there’s more love in our life, but also I’m dumber. (Come to think of it, that makes a lot of sense.)"
I love that paragraph. A lot. It sums up my life so perfectly: So much love. But not a lot of brain power left over.
Every so often I'll pick up my master's thesis and flip through it. This act invariably causes me to think to myself, "Wow, I used to know a lot of big words!" Oh, well. I'll re-learn them all some day...
"A couple of days after we brought him home I had this moment where I did a mental check to make sure I knew where all of my kids were. Jane in the bedroom. Adelaide in the living room. Levi Little in his chair. I felt my mind split in three directions and knew I would forever be that much more divided. I can actually feel my mind working slower. So there’s more love in our life, but also I’m dumber. (Come to think of it, that makes a lot of sense.)"
I love that paragraph. A lot. It sums up my life so perfectly: So much love. But not a lot of brain power left over.
Every so often I'll pick up my master's thesis and flip through it. This act invariably causes me to think to myself, "Wow, I used to know a lot of big words!" Oh, well. I'll re-learn them all some day...
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Oof, Part II
As I was cleaning the house yesterday, I felt grumpy and stressed. This isn't terribly unusual-- trying to get the house clean for a set time usually makes me a little grumpy and stressed. But this felt more extreme than usual. I mean, I was really annoyed with my life and feeling hard-done-by and way too busy and all that woe-is-me stuff. It wasn't pretty.
And then it hit me-- my week had looked like this:
Last Friday, I cleaned house in preparation for my in-laws coming (to celebrate Ryder's birthday).
Then the next day, Saturday, I did more cleaning and a deeper cleaning because my parents were coming.
And then Monday and Wednesday night I cleaned the house because I was hosting preschool the next day (and which required quite a bit of cleaning after the kids left).
And then I was back at it on Friday again, this time because my in-laws were coming to babysit so Craig and I could attend the temple.
And not that I enjoy living in squalor or anything, but that is a HECK of a lot of cleaning for me. No wonder I was feeling like my life was hard (despite the birthday parties and date nights)!
So right now, I'm looking at the huge disaster of toys that exploded all over the downstairs and smiling to myself because today I do NOT CARE ONE BIT about that mess. To heck with it all-- I'm going to do some blogging!
And then it hit me-- my week had looked like this:
Last Friday, I cleaned house in preparation for my in-laws coming (to celebrate Ryder's birthday).
Then the next day, Saturday, I did more cleaning and a deeper cleaning because my parents were coming.
And then Monday and Wednesday night I cleaned the house because I was hosting preschool the next day (and which required quite a bit of cleaning after the kids left).
And then I was back at it on Friday again, this time because my in-laws were coming to babysit so Craig and I could attend the temple.
And not that I enjoy living in squalor or anything, but that is a HECK of a lot of cleaning for me. No wonder I was feeling like my life was hard (despite the birthday parties and date nights)!
So right now, I'm looking at the huge disaster of toys that exploded all over the downstairs and smiling to myself because today I do NOT CARE ONE BIT about that mess. To heck with it all-- I'm going to do some blogging!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Oof.
Sorry I'm having a hard time blogging right now. I find very few things more annoying than a private blog that never updates, so if you keep checking here and finding nothing new, I really do apologize. Things have been-- and will continue to be-- a little insane around here. This is my month to teach Kendra's preschool, and then add to that the usual business of taking care of three kids and getting us all to the various doctor/midwife appointments and all the church stuff I've got going on, and I'm feeling just a little bit stressed.
But the real killer is that I have used up all my storage space, so blogger won't let me put up any more pictures. After asking my facebook peeps what to do about that, I have some good ideas of how I can remedy the situation, but they all take a certain amount of time that I just don't have right now. So all those pictures I'm dying to show you of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? Including an AWESOME one of Sponge Bob hovering above Kendra and I in a completely creepy manner? On the back burner for now. Hopefully around Christmas break I'll get it all sorted out (probably with some help from Craig).
I'm not saying I won't be posting anything until then-- like I could keep my mouth shut for that long!-- I'm just saying the things I want to write about are just no fun without their accompanying pictures.
Bear with me-- it will all get worked out eventually!
But the real killer is that I have used up all my storage space, so blogger won't let me put up any more pictures. After asking my facebook peeps what to do about that, I have some good ideas of how I can remedy the situation, but they all take a certain amount of time that I just don't have right now. So all those pictures I'm dying to show you of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? Including an AWESOME one of Sponge Bob hovering above Kendra and I in a completely creepy manner? On the back burner for now. Hopefully around Christmas break I'll get it all sorted out (probably with some help from Craig).
I'm not saying I won't be posting anything until then-- like I could keep my mouth shut for that long!-- I'm just saying the things I want to write about are just no fun without their accompanying pictures.
Bear with me-- it will all get worked out eventually!
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