My Boy is Secure in His Manhood

Mister Mischief: Mom, how come my sister is wearing that bow (that's what he calls Miss Thang these days.)

Mommy: Girls wear them so they can be pretty.

MM: But boys don't?

Mommy: No, boys don't want to be pretty, boys want to be cool. You want to be cool don't you?

MM: Yeah.... but sometimes I dont' want to be cool. Sometimes I just want to be pretty so I can wear a bow too.

ummmm... should I be worried?

My boy is most DEFINTELY all boy. He likes to rough and tumble and play every sort of sport imaginable. So lets test out his theory... can a boy wear a bow and still be manly...

playing in the dirt..

riding his Harley bike...

tramping through the woods in search of bugs...

fishing...

hitting on girls...

You're right bud... you can pull anything off...

Live Strong

This is my tired little man. He is one of my biggest joys in life. He can at times also be my biggest challenge in life.


Today he was my teacher.


Today was a beautiful, crisp autumn morning. Mister Mischief was going a little bonkers being caged up inside with such a sunshine filled day waiting for him outside. We decided to go to the park.

Little mister decided he MUST ride his "mogocycler" bike.... alll... the way... to the park...

This could be bad.

Normally I would strap him in the double wide (stroller that is) and I'd cart the kiddies down to the park since I know how exhausting a day a the park can be for the little rascals.

We usually spend the whole ride home in melt down mode.

But my little man was very insistant that he could do it. He IS a big boy after all. And someone could steal his bike while we are gone (HIS reasoning... not mine).

So away we went to the park. The ride there was great! I was very impressed with my little mans endurance and began imagining the pride of the mother of a Tour de France champion... Lance Armstrong eat your heart out!

The way home, as I'm sure you can imagine, was a different story. He was going strong for the first couple of minutes as we chatted about the important upcoming decision between hot dogs or mac 'n cheese for lunch. But I noticed my little man started lagging behind. I kept talking and it seemed to keep him going but evenually I looked back and saw that he had stopped. He was exhausted and there was not way he could go a step farther.


"I want you to carry my bike!" he declared.

I gave him that "try again" mommy look and he restated:

"Mommy, will you please carry my bike for me? I can't do it anymore."

I see a teaching moment... or maybe I'm just lazy, one can't be sure.

I said, "Sure bud, I will carry your bike home for you, but you need to bring it the rest of the way to me."

I know this sounds mean, but I knew he could do it. It wasn't very far, a couple feet maybe, but I wanted him to push himself a little further before accepting help. I also knew how proud he would be when he saw that he DID do it.

Then it dawned on me, our Father in Heaven says this to me all the time.

Me: Father, I just can't go any farther. PLEASE help me (I asked nicely)

Father: I will help you, but you can go just a little bit farther on your own. I know you can do it, but I want you to know you can do it too.

Me: OH MAN...

But without fail He is right every time. You see, I don't believe that the Lord ever abandons us in our hour of need. You know the moment when the road seems soooo long and you just don't have the strength to go even one step farther. He just has more faith in us than we do ourselves and He lets us take just a couple more steps on our own to prove that faith to US. And when it does get to the point that we really CAN'T do it on our own anymore He scoops up our bike and carries it in one hand while pushing an awkward, non-cooperating double wide stroller with the other hand... all the way home. Or until we decide we're ready to get back on our bike and try it again...

Once Little Mister rested and gathered a little strength he was fine and made it the rest of the ride home. This time instead of looking ahead and how far we still had to go we pointed out all the cool stuff along the way: a dog barking in the distance, a big rock in the middle of the sidewalk and a great big juicy bug hanging out on a leaf. Time flew by much faster this way.

So, the point to all my rambling is this: God does not forget about us. He just has a lot of faith in us. And those last few feet that He wants us to go before He scoops us up goes MUCH faster if we:

Thanks Air for starting my day with that awesome quote.

I needed to remember that today!

Back to Sponge Bob...

Playgroup Friend M: Mister Mischief said he's going to kill me!

Me: What?!!! [roar]

Okay, now as Little Mister likes to point out, I drop my share of "naughty words" such as stupid (and believe me, he is very quick to point out that we don't say stupid mommy!). And even though he knows we don't say stupid... he drops his share of stupid heads and that's stupid... and we all know he picks this up by listening to what is said around the house (doesn't every mommy use the term stupid head in their everyday conversations?)

However I can pretty much guarantee that I have never threatened to kill anyone... in his presence.... that was a joke... a lame one... but nevertheless a joke...

So where the H (probably shouldn't drop that one around him either...) did he pick up the term: I'm going to kill you?! Where did my sweet little boy learn a phrase that mean something so violent?!

Brace yourself... you're not going to like this...

A few days later I am driving in the car and I plug in the Living Scriptures animated movie, "Nephi and the Brass Plates". Sounds like a good one right? I gaze lovingly at my little cherubs tied down in their car seats, eyes glazed over as they are hypnotized by the animated blessing that is our car tv and think what a good mom I am. I found a way to teach them scripture stories without having to do any of the work...

I am reluctantly awakened from my daydream by, "You better kill him!"

What the....

I listened to the rest of the movie and I bet I heard the word "kill" used about 20 different times!

Needless to say, "Nephi and the Brass Plates" went in the garbage.

The moral of this story is...

Maybe our kids are better off with Sponge Bob... at least he only teaches them to make gross farting noises... they're not going to call the SWAT team on your kid for that...

M.A.S.H.

Where did you think you would be 10 years after giving your high school stomping grounds the good old "good riddance salute"?

I must say, that I never imagined that my life would be as evenful in 10 years as it has been. Between all my friends and I we have experienced what feels like a lifetime full of experiences ranging from divorce to loss of children, to job loss, to loss of our "eat a whole pizza at midnight and still keep your killer shape" bodies.

The road of life never quite takes you on exactly the journey you've imagined for yourself. But I'm happy to report... it ends up MUCH better! I mean lets face it... if life had ended up as my M.A.S.H. game predicted I would be Mrs. Joey McIntyre (New Kids on the Block), living in a shack with 20 kids, with an elephant as a pet.

I'll take my current life of being Mrs. Val Kilmer(ish), living in a house, with 3(ish) kids, with a dead fish as a pet.

Does life get any better than this? I submit that it does not.

Conundrum

Okay... yes it's been a long time since I've posted. Yes, I know... there are sooooo many people that have missed me ;). And YES... this post is a blatant attempt to getting out of cleaning my house after a very fun baby shower for a very cute girl.

..but yes I do have a small amount of inspiration probing at me to receed to my own little corner of the blogosphere and write.

I have a little connundrum (yes... I have been looking for an excuse to use this word in an actual sentence... and yes run on sentences that are about nothing but wanting to use a particular word count as a sentence) (as do sentences containing several sets of parenthesis). (should I end that with a period? hmmm)

Anyway... I consider myself a pretty good friend, or at least I try to be... that is if your "good friend criteria" is someone that will tell you to XYZ & won't let you go out in public with a boogie hanging out of your nose. If your outfit looks really ridiculous I may say something, but you should probably disreguard any fashion advice I give because my husband dresses me. I tend to be kind of a flake sometimes (working on that), I go through weird shy periods when I don't have much to say and then obnoxious periods when I have TOO much to say, and I may or may not remember your birthday (I can barely remember my own and I've had the same one for almost 29 years now...) The point is I mean well and I really do try to treat people the way I would want to be treated. If I have a glob of unidentified goo hanging on to one of my teeth PLEASE tell me so I don't walk around looking ridiculous.

That said, here is the conundrum (that's twice in one post, double points!)

So I went to Walmart the other day to pick up some prints. As I am standing in line playing with Miss Thang, I look up and am greeted by the exposed (although underwear bound) derriere of the woman standing in front of me. "Hello" it says, "Please stare at me. Good luck holding in your fits of loud, immature, innappropriate laugher as you stare at me. Please don't tell my owner I am here... I am so enjoying the view.. It gets so stuffy stuck inside these old 1980's "Hammer style" slick pants."

Yes, her pants were unfortunately completely split up the back... were talking top to bottom. Hanging wide open.

Okay, so my first reaction is to tap this sweet woman on the shoulder and inform her that her rear end is not only exposed to the viewing 'pleasure' of all of Wallyworld, but that it is in fact, talking to me. But I wisely decided that I do not have time to fit a trip to the looney bin into my already hectic schedule. But here's my other conundrum... it is one thing to tell someone they have something in their teeth, or that their fly is open. That is something that can be immediately fixed. PLEASE tell someone when they are unknowingly being vexed with a problem such as these so they can avoid further humiliation. BUT (hehehe... no pun intended.. told you I'm immature) should I decide to tell this lady that her bottom is breaking free of captivity what can she do about it? The photo center of our friendly neighborhood Walmart is conveniently located at the very back of the store. There is no quick way out. There is no empty aisle to sneak down to avoid exposed cheek detection. And there is no way to hold your head high as you tramp out of the such a busy store with a split down the entire backside of your pants.

This lady is going to be humiliated eventually no matter what.

SO... do I tell her now and and create a walk of shame for her out to her car? Or do I let her enjoy the rest of her shopping trip in ignorant bliss only to be horrified once she gets home?

Either way she is going to mortified later, but there is nothing you can do about it at the store, so why drag out the torture right?

Yes... sadly that last question was posed as a pathetic attempt to soothe my troubled soul about the decision I made. I said nothing at all.

And as much as I would like to argue that I felt like it was the right thing to do... in all honesty I didn't say anything because I didn't have the guts to do it. I didn't have the guts to watch a womans eyes pop out in horror and begin her walk of shame through the gallows of Walmart.

Instead I watched her bebop away carefree as ever and continue the rest of her shopping trip as an old woman standing next to me made eye contact with me and made a wincing, "Oooh.. that's so sad face".

Judge away.

But what would you do? Be honest.

My Sweet Savannah,

Oh how I love you. I want you to know that. I don't get to tell you everyday like I do your brother and sister. But I do.

I want you to know, that although I don't cry anymore I still miss you. Heavenly Father has work for mommy to do sweetheart, just like He has for you. So I have moved forward, just like you have. But there is a difference between moving FORWARD and moving ON. I will never move on and forget about you.

I am glad that you are in a safe, happy place. I am glad that my Grandma and Grandpa T. are there with you and that you have little angel friends like Zee, Scott, and Mac, just to name a few, to serve with. More than anything I'm glad you are with our Savior. I hope He gives you lots of hugs for me. Come to think of it... I bet He gives you better hugs than I ever could.... so when we meet again just pretend, for me, that I give the best hugs ever!

I hope you know that I always wanted you. Even though I cried sometimes when I was pregnant, wondering how I was possibly going to juggle three very young children, I always wanted you. Even though a lot of people around me felt the need to remind me that we were crazy to have you... I always wanted you. I know that you came when Heavenly Father needed you to. You were not an accident, and you going back to Heaven was not an accident. He has a plan for all of us, even one as tiny and precious as you. And I know, that if you had not had another more important mission, you would have fit right in with our family and Heavenly Father would have helped us make it through the craziness. Even if without His blessings your mommy would not be capable. It doesn't matter what we are capable of. The Savior can and does make up the difference.. and the end result is all that matters right?

There is nothing special about today. There is no anniversary that falls on this day. There is nothing specific that triggered this note to you. Just a mommy wanting her little lovey girl to know that on a normal, insignificant day I am thinking about you and loving you all the way to Heaven! You are in my heart and you and your brother and sister are my inspiration to try everyday to be a better mommy, a better wife, a better friend, a better neighbor, a better stander in looonnng tiring grocery store lines just a better all around person. It is a long process, and I am so far from where I want to be that it is frustrating sometimes. But you are my reminder that I am capable of helping create something perfect and that gives me hope.

I want you to know, if my being sad in the past has held you back at all from getting to the work you have to do... you are free to get to it. I want you to move forward too. Be happy. Serve the Lord. Practice your dancing with Zee... she has some moves... you definitely won't inherit any from me.

I love you forever sweetheart.

I can't wait for the day that I see you again.... but lets enjoy the journey there.

Love FOREVER,
Mommy

Interesting...

I have discovered an interesting phenomenon...

We love to laugh at our kids... (or get annoyed with them depending on our mood)... for being obsessed with poop, pee, boogers... basically any bodily secretion that would be considered "icky" by the politically correct.

AND YET...

For several posts now I've had maybe 1 or 2 comments. Then I post about my sons "booger sharing habits" and low and behold people come right out of the closet. Maybe you have all been busy and haven't been on the computer. Maybe I bore you.

or MAYBE...

You giggle at feces, urine and snot as much as I secretly do.

People sure do have a lot to say about potty talk!

We never quite grow up do we?

At least I don't do blue darts. Do you?