Discouragement

Let me start by saying that Damon is like me in so many ways. Granted, there are lots of things about him that I don't fully understand, or relate to, but there are so many things about him that remind me of myself. We both want to be the best at everything. As an adult, I have had many years to learn that I'm not going to excel at everything, and I'm okay with that. But when I was 9, like Damon is, I hadn't learned that yet.

Last year, when Damon had to make a car for the Pinewood Derby, Jeff did most of the work. Damon picked the basic design, but Jeff basically finished it for him. This year, though, we told Damon it was going to be his responsibility to do most of the work. Jeff could help him with some of the most difficult things, but he was going to do it himself. He ended up with a basic car that weighed exactly 5 ounces. And he was excited about it.

But he found out that it wasn't the fastest car at the derby. It also wasn't the slowest. It was somewhere right in the middle. And unlike last year, there were trophies for the first three cars (and now that we combine with two other wards for scouts, there were also a LOT more boys with cars). He also dropped his car and messed up his wheels just before it was his turn to race, which didn't help matters.

But I could tell by the night's end that he was feeling discouraged. He didn't feel like talking about his car, or things he could do in the future to make a faster car next year. He didn't want to talk about it at all. 

I related to that all too well. That's exactly how I would have acted when I was his age, too. When we got home, I went into his room with him and started telling him that. I told him how I always wanted to be the best at anything, and how I would cry if someone beat me at something. I also told him that I know it's okay to feel sad for a while. It's okay to be disappointed. But that by morning, I expected him to put it behind him and not feel bad anymore. I didn't want him to stay down for long. And to his credit, he was feeling better by the next morning.

***

The morning of the 15th, I woke up and couldn't find my purse. Jeff and I had been out the night before for Valentine's Day, and I knew I had had my arms full of stuff when we had come inside. I wondered if maybe I had left my purse in his car, so I texted him at work. He went and checked. No purse. I continued to look and look and called the only two places I could have possibly left it the night before--Cafe Rio and the grocery store we stopped at on our way home. When I finally talked to the manager of Cafe Rio, he took my information and told me that an employee had thought they had seen a purse, but it was nowhere to be found. He promised me they would do an investigation (and check the security tapes) to see what they could do.

I hung up feeling so stupid. I knew that the simple act of leaving my purse behind was going to be hard to fix. My wallet and my keys were gone (luckily I still had my phone!). I felt sick to my stomach, and I instantly started beating myself up over it. I felt like I was a bad person, who was always screwing up. But it didn't take me long to realize that all those negative feelings were not productive at all. And even more so, I recognized them as untrue. While I make mistakes, I'm not a bad person. I'm not worthless. And a loving Father in Heaven would never want me to feel that way about myself. 

I have learned that discouragement is one of the tools Satan tries to use against me. I am quick to get down on myself and not quick to forgive my own shortcomings. But I have had to learn to love myself anyway. I can remind myself that I am a good person, and and not expected to be perfect yet. I can learn from my mistakes, and hopefully not repeat them, and become better. I don't have to let Satan have any power over me.

I began to feel better. And even when I had to call and cancel the credit cards and go through the process of getting new ones, and a new driver's license and getting the house rekeyed, I just reminded myself that I am still learning, and there was no sense in getting down on myself.

The purse still hasn't been found. And while our credit cards were never used, I am still upset about the $50 I lost and the $100 or so in gift cards that were in my wallet. And while those things won't be able to be replaced, someone from HR at Cafe Rio called and said they would like to buy me a new purse. He told me to go get something that I felt could replace it (it was a hand-me-down Coach bag from my SIL), and to call him and he'd get me a check. So, even though this has been a costly mistake, I still felt as though it was a tender mercy from a loving Heavenly Father letting me know that He cared about me. 

Hopefully that is another lesson I can share with Damon (and all my kids) when they need to hear it most. 

Cleaning

Sometimes it feels like all I do is clean up after everyone. Because my kids are awesome at making messes. If making messes was an Olympic sport, they would be competing against each other for the gold. And there are five of them and only one of me. So, to say I'm facing an uphill battle to keep things clean around here would be an understatement.

I decided to put the theory to the test, and to prove that I am not actually cleaning ALL the time. I mean, there are those other tasks that I have to do (such as preparing food and hiding out in the bathtub with a book). So I used the stopwatch on my phone, and every time I started to clean something, I would start the timer. I kept track two different days--a typical Monday and a typical Wednesday-- and here are the results:

Monday is always my biggest cleaning day. Things have typically been overlooked during the weekend and there is a lot to do to get everything put back together. It is also my laundry day, which we all know takes a lot of time. So, for this particular Monday, I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. I didn't suddenly start dusting the kids shutters or deep clean the carpets. I just did what I would always do on a Monday. And I spent 3 hours, 41 minutes cleaning that day.

On Wednesday, I again just did the things I would typically do (which included putting the laundry away), and I only spent 1 hour, 40 minutes cleaning.

So, the results may not have backed up the theory that I am ALWAYS cleaning up after somebody. There are still clearly many hours left in the day. Maybe I should have another baby....(HAHAHA).

More catching up

In January, the girls started a gymnastics class twice a week with a bunch of neighbor friends. They LOVED it. They got to do four events-the bars, the beam, a vault-like trampoline, and an inclined mat where they practiced rolls and stuff. I really want them to try lots of different activities so they can find out what they're good at and want to stick with in the future. I can see Kyla wanting to stick with gymnastics. She has good upper body strength and is fairly natural. 

The last class ended with a medal ceremony, which was quite thrilling. Allie, who was on her way to a poetry night for her class (hence the skirt over her leotard, an attempt to throw together one outfit that would serve both purposes), so we didn't have much time to get many pictures. Here are their best poses:

A moving shot on the bars. A little blurry.

Like I said, we went straight to Allie's poetry night at school. I only got video of Allie's poem, but took a picture of these cute boys in Allie's class. The little blonde one is Timmy, and Kyla thinks he is going to be her husband (he is the one she said, "When I saw him, I thought in my mind, 'I'm going to marry him.'"). Well, just after this picture, Timmy burst out in tears (embarrassed by the moment, not my snapping pics of him) and found comfort with his teacher. Kyla looked at me and whispered, "my husband is crying." Haha, it was funny.

Nearly every morning, when Jeff leaves for work, the kids go outside to wave good-bye. It started because Carter would cry every time he left, and we found that if we went out to wave, he didn't get upset. Now, as soon as Jeff walks out the garage door, Carter bolts for the front door, and we all follow. 

Sometimes, if Jeff isn't in a big rush, he will go around the circle and pass by again (this tradition was started by my parents, who always do a couple of laps on their way out of town, often throwing change out the window like some awesome parade). I grabbed the camera one morning for the big farewell. 

 And here's Jeff coming around again. Yay for fun traditions that develop on their own. 

Elder Esplin

On January 27, 2010, my brother Jonny went into the MTC, his first stop on his mission to Argentina. Here was the last time I saw him before he left. Notice my belly nestled right under his shoulder. That's baby Carter, who would be born two days later, just missing out on meeting his uncle Jonny!

Fast forward two years. I now have two babies my brother has never met (and neither of them are really a BABY anymore), and we find out he has a two hour layover in SLC on his way home to St. George. So, along with my aunt and three of her kids, we went up to meet him. 

It only took Carter about 2 minutes to get over his aversion to Jonny (I had drilled it into his head that "Jonny was nice" enough that he walked around saying "Jonny nice."), but was entirely too fascinated by the baggage claim to pay any attention to him. But, oh, it was so good to see Jonny! It was almost like he'd never been gone. It wasn't weird at all, but just so, so good.

When I was pregnant with McKay, we knew that if it was a boy, we would be giving him the middle name of John (it was STRONGLY suggested by Jeff's mom, as John was her father's name and all of Jeff's brothers have a son with the middle name John). I was okay with that. But I also wanted to name him after another Jon that I adore. My brother Jonathan. So I asked Jeff how he would feel if I spelled Jon without the "h." He said it was fine with him. And since I was the one filling out the papers for the birth certificate, that's what I did. So little McKay Jon got to meet his namesake for the first time. And he seemed quite pleased. I just wish this picture wasn't so blurry. It was with my phone. :(

Jonny worked at Jimmy John's before he left (Jimmy Jonny's, as we like to call it), so I thought it would be fun to bring him a sandwich. He loved it. Apparently I did too, by the looks of this face I am making.

 

It was hard to watch him leave to go to St. George, and I really wanted to be there with the rest of the family when he got there, but we only had to wait 10 days until we drove down for his homecoming. That was this past weekend. I wish I had taken some more pictures, and I don't have any of us all together, but here are a couple video clips if you are interested in taking a look. We had our kids learn a song and perform it for him after church. So precious!

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We also put on a Family Play (or Roast, as my mom called it). This is something we have done many times in the past. Most of these are inside jokes that probably won't be that funny to you (unless you know my mom), but I find the whole thing hysterical.  It's in two parts, and will give you a little glimpse into what we think is "fun."

http://youtu.be/sKfD1drmgSw

http://youtu.be/QZtr3tKEVLQ

I sure missed my baby brother while he was gone, but he has come back an even better person than he was when he left! I can't wait to get to know him all over again, and have my kids get to know him too!

Birds and bees

I realized that I never wrote about the "birds and bees" conversation I had with Damon back in December, and that is definitely something I don't want to forget.

For months, I had been telling Damon that I would be happy to answer any questions he had about things he heard at school, but he respectfully declined. He knew that sex=baby, but didn't want any other details. I told him I'd be happy to tell him the truth, but I could tell that it made him uncomfortable (and knowing how little I wanted to learn those things when I was his age, I didn't press the issue).

Fast forward to a Saturday in December. Jeff was out of town and we were watching a BYU basketball game. Somehow the kids and I got talking about Brandon Davies, and how I was glad he was back on the team after everything that happened last year. Damon said, "well, his girlfriend is the one who got pregnant, so it's her fault, not his." That's when I knew that it was time to initiate "the talk."

I asked Damon if he knew how babies were made. He told me that he did, and threw out some words like "egg" and "sperm," but didn't seem to know anything else (I had given him the VERY basic "part of dad and part of mom come together to make a baby that grows in mom" talk years ago, but figured out quickly that the things he had picked up weren't fitting into this general definition any longer). So, I dove in. I told him that men and women were designed so that their bodies fit together like a puzzle. And then, without getting graphic, I told him what happens when their bodies were connected.

He seemed to take it well, and had some thoughtful questions to ask ("how did people figure out how to do that?" being my favorite). We talked about how sex is not a bad thing, but something that is special and something to be saved for marriage. He agreed, and then wanted to know, "what is the difference between sex and sexy?" That led to another discussion about modesty. And then came the question I could have done without. "When do you and dad do that, when we're asleep?" (Blush)

When it was all over, I felt good about it. It wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be (and truthfully, it was easier than telling him about Santa Claus), and hopefully now Damon will know that he can ask me to tell him the truth. As well as Allie, who I know was listening in and taking everything in.

Birthday Boy

Carter may be my favorite little person in the world right now. It's hard to deny. He's been through a lot in his two short years of life, but has become this amazing little boy, so full of love. He turned two on Sunday and was so happy to celebrate with family. He was most excited about blowing out his candles, which he did four times.

He opened his presents, and was genuinely excited about everything. What an easy birthday for me!

Earlier in the week, Jeff was out of town and we had just gotten back from the girls' gymnastics class. I wasn't really in the mood to make dinner (as is usually the case when Jeff is gone), and thought about stopping at Carl's Junior and letting the kids play there for dinner. But I didn't. And I wish I would have. Because in my haste to make dinner for the starving mob, I opened a can of corn, but didn't take the top all the way off. Just pried it up so that I could make some quesadillas for the kids. McKay was crying in his high chair and I was trying to take care of him, too, and I didn't see Carter grab for the corn. It wasn't until I heard the crying, and saw the blood, that I realized what had happened.

I picked him up and grabbed a paper towel, trying to assess the damage. It was quickly apparent that it was more than just a little cut and was probably going to need stitches. Carter was not happy at all and couldn't hold still, so I snapped the whip and ordered the other kids around ("Take care of McKay!" "Don't let those quesadillas burn!") so that I could take care of Carter. I consulted with Jeff over the phone, and then my neighbor next door, but I knew that he needed to get it stitched up. So Jeff called the oral surgeon he works with a lot and he agreed to meet me at his office. I sent the kids next door and left.

He ended up needed six stitches to close it up. And the doctor thinks he probably cut an artery because there was so much blood. Even an hour and a half after it happened, it was still gushing.We tried some laughing gas to get him to relax, but that seemed to bring up unpleasant memories of breathing treatments in the hospital or something, and only made him madder. I held him down while the doctor stitched him up and finally got him to stop screaming by telling him stories. It looked nasty, but at least it was closed.

We kept it wrapped up during the day, with lots of neosporin and a splint, and then took the bandages off at night so that it could dry out. He has healed amazingly quickly and is about ready for those stitches to come out. He hardly complained at all after the stitches went in and I only had to give him ibuprofen twice for pain. He is a tough little guy!

There are so many reasons that I love this little boy. Here are just a few examples.

1. I was changing his diaper one day and he was squirming all over, kicking his legs. I told him he needed to hold still, and that he was hurting my tummy. He looked at me with those big eyes and said, "hurt tummy? Sorry mommy." He really is so polite. He always says "thank you" when I do something for him and is so quick to apologize.

2. Yesterday we stopped at Costco and I asked the kids to help me unload when we got home. Damon said he would, but he REALLY needed to go to the bathroom (and Damon usually is helpful, so I know he wasn't trying to get out of it), but the girls walked right in the house, ignoring me completely. I got Carter out of his car seat and he immediately headed for the passenger door, picked up a bag of frozen corn, and tried to carry it in the house. The only one who was willing to help me! He is very helpful and I find lots of things that he has "put away," or thrown away. 

3. He is talking so well and everything he says is SO cute! My favorite from last month was when we went in to get McKay in the morning (always the first thing he wants to do). We walked in and McKay was waiting for us. Carter got all excited and said, "I found it! Bubba's awake!" We have repeated that often and Carter will say it to get a laugh. He also likes to say, "Go Damon! Shoot the hoop," sing the ABC song, and tell me he's ready for lunch. Love it.

4. He is so gentle and affectionate. He loves to hug and kiss and is so sweet to McKay. It warms my heart. Unprompted, he will hug and kiss him and never wants to see him cry.

5. He loves, and gets excited about, all kinds of things. He got a little train set for his birthday and is always so excited to play with it (and take it to bed with him). He loves balls and his popper and Barbies and puzzles and books. He just started being able to do the puzzles and file folder games I have in the closet and it's amazing to see his little mind growing all the time. It's also hard to say no to him because he's so sweet. Dangerous combination.

He was so excited at the Pinewood Derby the other night. He loved watching the cars race down the track and would call out "Go!" if they weren't moving fast enough. As soon as a race finished, he screamed in delight and yelled, "Again!" 

I know we are so lucky to have this fuzzy headed little boy in our family. He makes all of our lives better. Happy birthday Carter Edward!

January Funnies

I decided I would be better about documenting the funny things that come out of the mouths of the kids. So I hung a blank sheet of paper on the wall and wrote down the things that made me laugh. Here's the list for January:

Kyla- "I want to change my name to Rosetta!"

Carter walked into the family room, holding a sharp knife and a package of pudding. He had used the knife to puncture the pudding wrapper and eat the contents. Kyla exclaimed when seeing him, "we didn't see THAT coming!"

Kyla-"Excuse me! I just burped in my mind."

One night, Jeff saw that Carter wasn't finishing his pizza and took it away, attempting to take a bite of it. Carter looked at him with a mean look, pointed to his plate, and said, "Pizza. Right there." Jeff promptly gave it back.

Kyla came in crying one day, "Allie said I'm a poo!"

Allie, in the middle of the night: "Mom! Kyla, wake up! Move over, I'm falling off the bed!" I'm not sure whether it was a bad dream or reality, but the situation resolved itself on its own.

Damon, who had been doing a biography report on Harry Houdini, on why we NEEDED to attend the circus that was coming to town: "We have to go to the circus because Harry inspired me!"

Kyla, during a prayer, said, "Please help me to find more money on the ground."

One day at the library, Allie asked me what we were having for dinner. I told her beef and broccoli over rice. She said in all seriousness, "I'd rather eat throw up."

One night we were watching the Australian Open tennis tournament and Carter was very excited about watching a show where balls were hit back and forth. I pushed pause (or so I thought) so we could say a family prayer. During the middle of the prayer, Carter yelled out, "Hooray!" We quickly finished the prayer, snickering, and I asked what was so exciting. Damon told us that Carter was cheering for the tennis match.

Kyla, to her very white friend at preschool, "Does your mom have brown skin?" To which her friend answered no. A minute later the friend asked, "Do I have brown skin?"

Finally, Kyla has been working on her reading, and likes to clarify words by using them in a sentence after sounding them out. Two of my favorites from January:
1. "C-o-w. Like the cow got shot."
and 2. "D-o-g. Like the dog got eated."

I realize that most of these quotes come from Kyla, which can be explained by the fact that she's four and says lots of funny things, and that she is around more than the other kids. At least the kids who can talk.