Ewwy Gewy Mushy Gushy

I've got this picture of Collin on my desktop.  It's one of my favorites of him.  (Maybe partially because he's wearing the nerdy/classy sweater I bought for him and he's got the couple days growth of beard I find so attractive--but those are just surface reasons.)  I think mostly I like it because I was the one taking the picture, and he was smiling at me.  I was reading a novel the other week (not, amazingly enough an LDS romance but an actual novel) and there was a part where the protagonist looked hopefully at the gentleman in the picture.  She was searching for herself in his eyes and was disappointed (he wasn't "into" her at all, at that point).  But that image struck me--that we really do see ourselves reflected in the eyes of those who love us.  It was such a sweet moment in mine and Collin's love story when I realized we were only looking at each other. 

My sister recently joined the online dating community.  I was looking over her shoulder as she was scrolling through the options.  None were that interesting to her.  Obviously, none were interesting to me either.  It made me idly wonder, though, if I would have picked Collin out of a line-up like that.  Would his picture have captured me like it does now?  Would I have recognized something simpatico about him and virtually "winked" at him?  (Heaven forbid.)  Would he have been interested back?  Oh, I'm getting nervous again just thinking about it.  

I feel like I was blessed far beyond my deserving, that Collin and his wonderfulness was simply handed to me on a silver platter.  That he came along far sooner than I originally thought I was ready for seems to confirm that no matter how far I traveled or how many adventures I had alone I would never find such a perfect match.

There is another intern at the museum working under the same curator.  We hang out . . . I mean work together . . . on Friday afternoons.  She's wading through the BYU dating scene and has such funny stories about it.  It's been enough years now, in a happy marriage, that I can look complacently back on those times and even (gasp!) offer advice.  What is it about being married that I think I qualify to give any sort of advice?  I ought to hold my tongue more often.  But I have slipped a few times into that perilous realm and been surprised how far I have come.  What I thought was essential to my happiness before marrying Collin I now regard as less crucial.  Other things that didn't seem that important while dating are now the hinges on which our relationship functions.

For example, my fun new friend is looking for someone who can appreciate art.  Meaning, they don't walk through a mall display of Thomas Kinkade paintings and claim they've just had their culture for the evening.  True story (for her).  Now, all possible snobby snarks about Thomas Kinkade paintings aside (and believe me, I could go off), I think I too would once have had this one higher up on my list.  Collin I think could take or leave art.  But he understands it is important to me.  He's willing and happy to spend hours listen to me lecture on my pet subjects, spend precious Saturdays at the museum, appreciate the art I bring into our house, etc.  I think appreciation for art is a thing that can be cultivated.  For me, at least, it wasn't essential that Collin come with a love for art.  That he understand and encourage my interest was.  It's a bonus if he has come to like it too.

I've had lots of time recently to think about why I did choose Collin.  And, perhaps more importantly, why I still choose him.  Here's just a few reasons why:

His hugs are the best ever

He is committed--committed to the gospel, committed to family, committed to friends, committed to his callings, committed to me, committed to his career, committed to being a dad

He works hard and well

He is frugal but so generous

He is principled

He has high expectations for himself

He is stubborn about what he believes is right and true--and is usually right

He has a sense of humor

He is a talented musician

He follows through and follows up--on conversations, assignments, requests

He is up for an adventure

He is present--if there is a move he is there, if there is a need for service he is there, if there is a need to listen he is there

Last fall our friend (and very talented photographer) Brandon took these photos of us in exchange for the ones I took of his family.  It was a spur of the moment thing--luckily we'd just come from church and so were a little bit dressed up.  I'd forgotten about them until recently.  They fit in perfectly with my ode to Collin, though! 

Spring is springing

I think this fantabulous weather has really affected my mood.  For the better.  The way better.  I have been an awesome mom this week with several "good mom" moments--some even caught on camera!  No really, this early spring weather is so gorgeous and invigorating.  I feel like we are waking up from winter hibernation and seeing life new and fresh and clear.

I wanted to follow up on last week's whining post.  We've recently found another way of combating a case of the gripes and I'm making it more of a habit for the rest of my kids' growing up.  A few months ago I read an article or a blog post somewhere (you'd think that for me being the methodical researcher I am I'd have documented) about the kinds of questions and conversations you can have with your young children to help them grow up to think positively and think of others.  Soon after I read the article I started incorporating this topic in our daily dinner meal or bedtime.  Not extremely consistently, but fairly regularly.  My variation on the recommended questions are:

What is one good thing that happened to you today? 
What is one good thing you saw happen to someone else today?
What is one good thing you did for someone else today?

We are still at the prompting stage, where I help him figure out answers to the questions.  But Davy's started to voluntarily bring these subjects up at dinner or driving in the car. He'll ask me about my day and what I helped someone do.  It's a great reflection on the good all around us, and the good we have control over doing for someone else.  Even Edward asked Collin last video call what happened in his day!

I seized the opportunity earlier this week when Erica was over and the boys were in a relatively cooperative mood.  Erica, with her great eye and good interaction with the boys, took these and I got those mommy pictures that were a (bleated) birthday wish.

Davy took the pictures of me and Edward.  We indulged his "make a silly face" request. 

Spencer's 18th birthday was this past week.  Big deal birthday!  I walked in after work to find Eddy hard at work making birthday party hats.  He apparently had come up with the idea all by himself and saw the project through.  Adorable!

The boys have been talking with Daddy on the phone (as opposed to the video chat on the computer) more frequently the past few weeks.  I think they like the personal interaction with their dad, and being able to have possession of a usually off-limits gadget.  I captured Eddy during his conversation.  I don't think Collin catches much of what he's talking about, but his sweet voice is worth listening to anyway. 

Here is proof that Spring is coming--at least in the mountain tops.  Lovely lovely tulip leaves.  The crocuses are in full bloom, all yellow and purple gloriousness.  I think Boston is still in the midst of ugly late winter muck, but by the time we go back home Spring should be appearing there too.  I'm grateful I'll get two Springs this year!

The boys are outside for a good chunk of the day.  (And sleeping much better because of it!  Hallelujah.)  Shorts and short sleeve shirts are the apparel of choice.  

Thursday I came home from the museum and the day was too wonderful to resist, so we brought our dinner outside for an impromptu picnic.  The boys were charmed, and I patted myself on the back for being a cool mom for once.

Funny faces are all the rage around here.  Here's Eddy's attempt.  Reminds me of the Scream by Edvard Munch.  

Three snap shots that I didn't get on camera but I want always in my mental camera are:

Eddy face down fast asleep in top of a Curious George book.

Davy in my tall, zip-up boots after bedtime saying, "I guess I should have asked you if I could borrow these.  Can I have some more of your clothes for dress up?"

Davy and Eddy standing side by side in their PJs and stocking (Davy) and bare (Eddy) feet outside on the porch on early morning to watch the garbage truck come by.  Davy reaching over and embracing his little brother when Eddy got a little nervous at the big noisy truck.

(getting past) Whining

There's been some whining around here.  A little bit from the boys.  Most from me.

Eddy's got this new adorable pose he does when disappointed--shoulders hunched, arms swinging for all like he's a gorilla, chin jutting out.  It's super cute and quintessential toddler.  However, last week at church he had a not-so-cute major meltdown halfway through the meeting.  I think it involved Katy's lip gloss being returned to her purse.  Anyway, I tried to wait it out for a few minutes--longer than I ought, I'm sure.  In my defense I was in the middle of the row and thought that getting out would be more distracting.  Eventually it became clear that he wasn't winding down.  So I brought him out to the hall for some troubleshooting.  We hadn't been out there in many long months--just the threat of going out had previously been enough to alter behavior.  Anyway, we found a corner where I sat him on the drinking fountain stool and insisted he stay there until he calmed down and showed me he was ready to go back into the chapel by being reverent.  It didn't take long before he realized thrashing around just wasn't so pleasant.

At Pizza Factory the other week Davy was in a sour mood.  Spoiled by too many restaurants and special treats?  Likely.  Anyway, he was fussy and whiny and he had had his two (probably more) warnings.  Pushing the limit one last time was more than he could resist, so I stood up, grabbed his hand and marched him out of the restaurant.  In the shock of mom acting on her warnings he dissolved into complete crying.  I found a bench and we sat down to wait it out.  Said same thing as to Eddy at church (though I don't think I said "reverent."  Maybe "respectful?").  He eventually figured things out and we went back to the table for a much nicer meal. 

I have some nasty head cold that is declaring war on my sinuses.  I have a constant headache and haven't been able to taste anything for several days.  I can't take anything because I'm pregnant.  Pregnancy itself is getting to the uncomfortable stage and I would complain of heartburn and leg cramps and loosened joints so that I waddle when I walk (nevermind some unmentionables) if I thought it'd do any good.  I haven't slept through the night in months.  I'm tired to the bone all the time.  I miss my home and my best friend and lover and my boys' daddy.  Whine whine whine.

But then a few days ago I was watching some of the new bible videos that the LDS church has produced and made available to the world.  One aspect struck me as I noticed it over and over.  Christ invariably knelt down to the level of those he encountered who were suffering.  See Jesus with the woman taken in adultery.  Watch him talking with and healing the lowest of the low here and here.  Observe him raising the daughter of Jarius (I sobbed unashamedly like a Spirit-moved pregnant lady on that one), starting near the beginning when the father comes to supplicate Christ's help. 

I recalled those times--the "good parent" times--when I've remembered to come down to the eye level of my children, especially when they are misbehaving or whining.  It's a most powerful experience, to see life, view the situation, from their perspective.  As my dad frequently says, "life's tough when you're two feet tall."  Davy and Eddy--and all those little children whom we encounter or work with--are figuring out so many things all at once and life must be often bewildering and simply unfun.  My goal as a mom this week is to kneel down more often (even when it's getting really hard and awkward to get back up!) and speak with them where they are.

It's the most powerful experience to have someone come down--not patronizingly or insultingly but condescending as Jesus did and does--to our level when we are hurting and confused.  I felt like I was being reached down to and pulled up seeing those videos.  Then today in Sunday School we were taught from the experience of Emma Smith and all her trials and rising above.  The teacher made a list on the board contrasting positive and negative, gratitude and pride.  So today I'm counting my blessings--one of the best remedies for a whiny mind.

I am incredibly grateful to be able to carry little Eliza; I'm thankful for a mom who has witch-doctor . . . I mean alternative natural medicine . . . knowledge of cures for sickness; I'm overwhelmed at the opportunity to intern at the BYU MOA with a fabulously nice and smart lady, researching images of the Savior and the lives of artists who portrayed him in anticipation of having these seminal works actually exhibited for any to see; I'm grateful for Collin's support and encouragement; I'm grateful for my family's love and care of our sweet boys (even when they are not being so sweet); I'm thankful for the technology that is allowing me and my husband and my boys and their dad to maintain our relationships long distance.  I am the most aware and grateful for the atonement of my Savior, Jesus Christ, and the ultimate plan of happiness my Heavenly Father and Mother have for me and my family.

The Realm of Imagination

 

 

Before we left Belmont for this winter adventure, a friend complimented Davy on his imagination and imaginary play abilities.  I agree:  both my boys are very good at pretend play, storytelling, and living in their imagination.  I'll even take some of the credit for their mad skills.  'Cause guess what?  I am really awesome at leaving them plenty of time and space to just play.  It's one of my favorite parts of parenting, actually.  I simply ignore my kids for hours on end (while reading, doing projects, dozing on the couch, uploading pictures to the blog, moving laundry . . .) and leave them to their own devices.  I absolutely expect these boys to be able to entertain themselves for long, unbroken stretches of time.  And they are perfectly capable of it!

Now don't get this parenting attitude confused with negligence or true disregarding.  Anything but.  They are constantly supervised, one ear and one eye are always on them and I step in to help negotiate if things are tanking.  I reroute attention and divert catastrophe on my best days.  I clean up afterward on my less-than-best days.  Ultimately, though, I firmly believe that leaving my kids alone for good chunks of the day is highly beneficial for all of us.

Davy's been a pro at his imaginary worlds for a while now.  He is currently spending hours--literally hours--with Uncle Luke's big tub of Legos.  He builds all sorts of vehicles and worlds (including a Christmas Star Wars scene in one of the pictures below--who told him about Star Wars anyway?) and has detailed back stories on all his creations if you ask.

Eddy still requires an audience--an engaged audience--for much of his play (usually Davy fulfills this role), but I've noticed longer and longer periods when he becomes absorbed in his own world, quietly whispering to his knights or bears while moving them around their imaginary dimension. 

The boys are incredible dresser-uppers, posing as superheros, knights, Roman soldiers, etc.  They take on the persona so easily and protect our house from evil monsters and bad guys.  I have every confidence that they truly are fighting the hoards of badness and keeping me safe. 

Over-achieving parents, consider--slacking off a little bit as a parent for a couple hours on a regular basis may bring huge rewards!  If my kids and their active, beautiful, precious imaginations are proof of anything, it's that more time for doing nothing structured, nothing forced, nothing adult-directed, nothing TV oriented is a very very good thing.  Bigger smiles, louder laughter, crazier silliness, quieter quiet play, sweeter hugs at story time, more respect for times of expected behavior, more ability to entertain oneself in one's own mind during church, more willingness to clean-up and help when there is a change of activity--I've noticed all these things more the more I've allowed and emphasized "free play."  What started as an embarrassing tendency to "slacking off" to read a book during the day is now (only in my opinion, of course) one of my best parenting practices.

Making cookies (cheater cookies) with Aunt Erica.

The boys love going to great-grandpa Ed's house to play.  I wish my grandmother Bee could have seen how much they revel in the toys she provided.  She delighted in seeing children happy with their playthings.  She was a great example to me of providing playthings and letting the kids at 'em with very little interruption or intrusion.

Painting pictures for Aunt Erica's bedroom in her new apartment with some of her favorite colors--pink, pink, pink (and a little green).