Daniel - 19 Weeks

Even though a week is a short segment of time, I still feel like your 19th week had two parts.  The early part of the week had no surprises.  You were quite spitty and I wondered a few times if perhaps I’m eating something that was upsetting your stomach, but, for the most part, you were content.  Still waking up once every night but sleeping well.

Then....

You decided to return to your roll from your tummy to your back move.  I know it’s an important milestone and I’m glad you can do it but it makes you so mad to be on your back!  Naps are short.  In fact, sometimes naps didn’t even happen.  You learned a new cry and it can only be described as your “I’ve had it!” cry.  Shrieks are harder to take when you are dry, fed, burped and being held and I know how tired you are but you just won’t fall asleep.  We had a few hard days.

No tooth yet but it must be coming soon.  You are gumming everything and moving your mouth around with your tongue out like you can’t quite figure out what is going on.  Still slobbering like crazy.  Your nursery is close to being ready so this might be the last week you sleep in your mom and dad’s room.  It makes no sense but I’m kind of sad about it.

Here you are with your brothers.  You are such a loved little boy.

Um....Three on Thursday??

I know...I know.  Kind of lazy blogging.  I do have ideas for posts but they take time to write and make sense of and I don’t have that kind of time today.

It’s been a busy week.  Not busy in that go-go-go way, however.   In fact, most days, I’ve managed to stay home the entire day until I absolutely have to leave.  I think I’ve planned it that way on purpose because of my upcoming weekend, which has my stomach all in knots with its schedule.

1.  The Young Women in my ward are coming over to my house Friday night for a retreat/sleepover.  I know I just wrote about the horrors of sleepovers and this is not my usual schtick but something needs to happen with this particular set of girls to help them become better friends with each other.  Girls are girls and this may totally backfire with the usual girls only interacting with their approved list of comfortable friends the entire evening but I hope spending more than 45 minutes in a row of hard folding chairs like they do on Sunday or an hour and a half on Wednesday nights whining about participating in a planned activity is a means to better unity.   The retreat activity is to make venetian masks, which one of my laurels is heading up as one of her personal progress projects.  It sounds insanely messy but sometimes I can handle mess if I know and expect it advance.  There’s nothing a mop and vacuum can’t clean up, right?  The original plan was to have dinner (pizza), make masks, sit in the hot tub and maybe watch a movie.  Then, Jay cleaned out the hot tub for me so it would be fresh and ready to go and...it’s broken.  Some motor on some part and the repair people can’t get here until next week.  So...now I’m hoping that they’ll settle for karaoke or a dance party - two activities for which I’m always game.  And, can any of you help me with a movie choice?  Obviously, it has to be clean and cute and entertaining.  I don’t watch a lot of movies and with all the males in the house, I really don’t watch many of what might be considered “feminine” movies.  A little advice would be nice.

2.  Saturday, as soon as the last person leaves, I need to get Sam down to a town about an hour away for his soccer game.  No big deal except that I also have to get Seth to his soccer game by 1:30 and be at the church by 6:00 so that I can present a 15 minute class on having a cash budget for a ward activity on having financial peace.  Jay also happens to be on call so he’ll be away and busy the entire day.   I’ve thought a ton about what I want those 15 minutes to feel like but I haven’t written much down.  I’d like it to be informal enough for someone to throw a question or opinion in whenever so I’m trying really hard not to over prepare like I sometimes do.  Instead, I’d like to rely on the six years of cash budgeting experience we have and what has worked, what hasn’t, and why I think it has far greater implications than just financial peace.  I think it brings relationship peace/ spiritual peace and parenting peace.

3.  On Sunday, Jay, Seth and I have been asked to speak in Sacrament meeting.  We’ve been given the topic of praying vocally as well as in secret and, for some reason, from the moment I heard the topic I knew I was going to speak about music.  Jay was a bit surprised by my interpretation and for as prompted as I felt initially, the preparation sure has been slow going.  There just aren’t a lot of talks to use as references and that’s usually my mode d’emploi for talks.  I want to use some personal experiences but it’s hard to talk about music and its influence without using the actual music.  You know what I’d really like my talk to be like?  I’d like to break out into song here and there to make my point.  Obviously I can’t and I won’t.  That’s just not how things are done.  But, reading the lyrics to music isn’t the same thing.  It’s a big part and hugely moving but the music - a melody and harmony and rhythm and dynamics - well...it’s more.  Now, with only two days left, I’m wondering if I should have gone in a different direction because my talk could be a big ol’ flop.  I am forcing my family to sing the special musical number.  I’m rarely bossy but I am quite comfortable with it when it comes to music.  In spite of their protests and groans, we are going to sing “A Child’s Prayer” and I hope the three boys can know it well enough to sing the first verse by themselves, have Jay and I sing the second verse and then...you know what comes next...the mash up.  Oh yeah.  I love those dual melody songs.

Of course, I’m avoiding all of this weekend reality and procrastination in a very dangerous way.  So, if the blog is quiet until Monday, you know why.

Three on Tuesday

1.  My sister, Sarah, came to visit me this past weekend.  Have I ever mentioned on this blog how much I love my family?  A few times?  Well...let me just say it again.  I love my family.

This weekend was going to be so stressful.  Jay is in the stake young mens and the stake had a youth temple trip planned.  He had to be there all day and as the temple is two hours away, he had to leave at 5:45 am to get there and get set up by the time the first group of wards came.  I also had to be there.  I probably could have delegated but at a YW presidency meeting months ago, we each chose which scheduled temple trip throughout the year we would like to attend with the youth.  I chose the April trip as it would be the first time Seth went to the temple to do proxy baptisms.

Of course, that was all before I knew that Daniel would refuse a bottle and that Sam would have a double header soccer game and that Sam’s school sleepover would be that same weekend.  As I had to meet the youth at 7:15 am to head out, I didn’t know how to get Sam home and to his day of soccer, not to mention what I was going to do with Henry and Daniel.

I started working out a complicated he-goes-here-and-he-goes-there with lots of help from soccer moms and friends but then Sarah called and said Daniel’s 17 week pictures were telling her she needed to come visit.  She even took a day off of work so she could be here all day on Friday to help me paint the nursery (yes.  I am just now getting around to assembling Daniel’s room).

She arrived late Thursday night and Friday, she followed me into town as I dropped of my car that needed some work (surprise) and then we went to the paint store and got all of our supplies to paint.  I am not ashamed to admit that I am completely attempting to copy a room design I found online.  Of course, it is impossible to completely copy as I do not have cream wainscoting nor am willing to spend $1,000 on a metal crib, but I am trying to do the rest starting with the Benjamin More Gentle Grey paint color.  We got the entire room painted in just a few hours.  The next day, while I was at the temple, she had Henry and got Sam to both his soccer games, earning my love and a nasty sunburn as a bonus (it was 80 degrees on Saturday!)  I took Daniel with me and my mother-in-law, another saintly family member, watched him in the temple home next to the temple while I was inside.  He got a comfy and quiet nap and I got to watch my adorable 12 year-old attempting to help the priesthood holder baptizing him by really bending his knees.  Have you ever gotten the giggles in the temple?  Luckily, Seth didn’t see his mom’s eyes watering and shoulders shaking.

The whole weekend worked because Sarah came to visit.  Sisters rule.  Especially when they laugh at your hair color and cut because it is the worst cut and color you have ever had!!








2.  Speaking of the nursery, I have spent the entire day thus far online shopping for the rest of it.  I wish I could have online shopped for the room to be painted ( I do not love painting) but so far, I have found the sign, the wall decal, a chair (that one was too expensive and I went with a chocolate brown instead of beige because),  and bedding.  Still needed is a crib.  I have looked and looked at dark ones and it isn’t feeling right so I am going to go with a light crib.  Probably white as I don’t want to spend very much and will probably just get one at Wal-Mart or Target.  I don’t need it to be an heirloom crib as we aren’t planning on having any more children and some of those conversion cribs are ugly to me.  I just want a simple crib.  I have an old dresser that I am going to spray paint whatever color I end up getting.  Then...I think I’m done.  Pics will come when I’m done.  Hopefully in two weeks it will all be done and Daniel will finally get his own room.

Here is the room I am copying.  I just realized I still need drapes.

contemporary kids design by minneapolis interior designer Design By Lisa

3.  I don’t want to get too much into it because I’m still not sure where I’m at, but the most interesting thing happened on Sunday.  The talks in Sacrament meeting were about personal revelation.  Hmmm.  The Sunday school lesson was on having our tents face the temple.  The teacher also brought up Lot’s wife which is astonishing because her story has been on my mind for months.  Months!  The comments made in regard to Lot’s wife were a bit infuriating only because I think she gets a bum rap and all the comments were the typical ones always said about her but of course I didn’t say anything because that wasn’t the point of the lesson (which was on King Benjamin) and I’m still not sure what I think about certain things.  But the fact that she was mentioned felt...bizarre.  Like someone was playing tricks on me and I was on candid camera because everything so far was about things I had been thinking about.  Then, the lesson in YW was on the priesthood.  My 1st counselor did a great job with the lesson and just talked about the order of the church.  It was great and rather than seeing gender in the priesthood, I saw order.  After church, we had a meeting with the bishop that has led me to spend the past two days diligently working on my personal progress.  The scriptures that I have read and the things I’ve thought about and recorded in my journal have been immensely soothing.

I’m just saying that it’s either a HUGE coincidence that these very topics have all been brought to my attention within days of each other or the Lord is trying to tell me that he knows me.  I know, I know..many things in the scriptures and lessons can be generally applied to many adversities but everything felt so directed to some of my specific concerns.  My questions weren’t all simply answered and everything isn’t just hunky dory sail off into a Jack Weyland sunset but I do feel like the Lord was saying, “I know the troubles in your heart, Lucy,” and, for now, being acknowledged like that is the comfort I need.  

Daniel - 18 Weeks

At 18 weeks, you are a slobbering mess.  I don’t know if baby teeth are impending or if you are just going to be drooling copiously for the next few months, but your shirts are in a constant state of wetness and your chin is always wet.  As are your fists which have almost replaced your thumbs as the favorite thing to put in your mouth.

You had your 4 month check up last week and you are following what they say is the typical growth curve of a breast-fed baby.  Whatever the numbers, you are healthy and happy and a joy to me.

4 month growth statistics:
Height:  25.3 in (65 %)
Weight:  15 lb 15 oz (74%)
Head Circumference:  42.8 cm (65%)  

This picture just cracks me up.  The blue background is the carpet in the living room but with your expression and the coloring, it looks like a mug shot.  Let’s hope you don’t chose a life of baby crime:)

Sleep Over Tired

Growing up, sleeping over at a friend’s house was one of my favorite things to do.  From as early as second or third grade, I had sleepovers at my cousin’s house.  I know fifth and sixth grade were full of them, mostly attached to a birthday celebration, and they continued through high school. I have many fond memories of staying up too late, eating pizza out of the box and not at a table, drinking soda, watching movies, dancing, playing MASH and talking about boys.  I also have plenty of not so fond memories of watching totally inappropriate movies, playing a Ouiji board, trying to make each other faint and be “stiff as a board,” sneaking out to see boys, seeing pornography and other less than ideal situations.

I never thought about it much as a parent until a General Authority spoke about the topic a few years ago.  Due to us moving around frequently during Jay’s medical training, we never really faced the dilemma with Seth as he seemed to lack the close friends that would normally invoke an invitation during his younger years.  Although we had already made a decision as parents against sleepovers for any of our boys, listening to this conference talk reaffirmed our decision.  Since then, Seth has been invited to a few of his friends’ homes for sleepovers but we’ve politely declined without much argument from him.  Because he’s not very verbal, I’m not completely certain he doesn’t hate us for this protective parenting strategy but I rationalize that his childhood isn’t deprived because he gets the flavor of a sleepover when visiting with cousins yet in the parent approved environment of trusted family members.  Win/Win.

Sam, on the other hand, is much more social and verbal.  For years now, he’s been invited to spend the night with various friends and sometimes I feel like the only parent on the planet that says, “no.”  Even though he wishes he could, and says so, he is Mr. Obedient and hasn’t given us any real resistance.  Now, Henry is getting invitations.  I didn’t think it would be as hard as it has been to stick with our resolution.  Every explanation of, “We don’t do sleepovers,” feels like a judgment on those who do and...well...I kind of feel like a fuddy duddy.

Last year was our first year of enrollment at our elementary school and the year long reading program incentive was a sleepover celebration for those who completed all the levels.  While both Seth and Sam completed the challenge with ease, I thought it was weird to have a sleepover at the school and told the boys they could go and I would pick them up that night.  Neither chose to go.  I guess it was embarrassing or something to get picked up early.  I don’t know.

This year, Sam was surprised when I changed my tune.  I’m not sure when or exactly why I did, but it didn’t seem like a big deal to have him participate in the reading challenge sleepover event.  I know the teachers and the principle better as well as many more of the students and I thought, “It will be safe and fun and Sam will get to sleepover with his buddies for once without most of the dangers I hope to avoid.”   He was excited this entire past week in anticipation of Friday night’s activity.  When I dropped him off at the school and watched him greet his friends I wondered if, perhaps, we’ve sheltered him and our other children too much.  Sam is so confident and fun and I love watching him build friendships with these boys.  As they disappeared into the party, I was glad for him and made a mental note to revisit the issue with Jay and perhaps allow a sleepover here and there when our parent-dar deemed the situation safe.  Like running after ice-cream trucks, making snow angels and getting visits from the tooth fairy, sleepovers just seem like an essential part of childhood.

The weekend fallout hasn’t been pretty, however.  Sam had a soccer double header on Saturday.  The day’s temperature reached into the 80s and by the time I got home from the stake youth temple trip (my sister, Sarah, came to help me this weekend and had Sam and Henry all day) and got the day’s scoop, Sam was wasted.  Too tired to answer any questions.  Too tired to be nice.  Too tired to even eat.  He went to bed without dinner (not forced.  His choice) and slept solidly through the night.

I thought that would be the end of the sleep deprived hangover but he has been grumpy and tired today too.  I witnessed a curmudgeon-esque reply to his primary teacher in the halls after our meetings were over and he was the most impatient of all our boys when Jay and I had to meet with the bishop for a few minutes.  After linner (the name of the meal we eat at 3:00 on Sundays after church), he took an hour long nap and just wasn’t himself the entire evening.  I hope tomorrow is better.

So, I think I’m back to my original guns.  No sleepovers.  For all of my original reasons plus the grumpy robot figure that replaces my adorable child in the aftermath.  Still, that gleeful feeling of watching my son enjoy a moment of childhood remains fresh in my memory.  It makes it hard to completely commit.  I hope my awesome parenting skills are what they need to be to both protect my children and let them BE children.

What’s your stance?  No right or wrongs here, just experiences and choices, if you please.





Sleep tight, tired boy. And no more lip tomorrow!:)

Truth Is...

Have you seen those Facebook posts the teenagers are all about where you “like” their status of “truth is” and they respond with a truth about you?  I have several young women who have done it and a couple of my trek kids and I read them occasionally.   They don’t respond with all truths unless they think every single person who responded is so sweet and so cool and so gorgeous.  It’s not like I don’t believe them but it’s a very effortless and feel-good truth.

But, to tell you the truth, I’ve been blogging like a teenager lately, only covering the appropriate and the simple and the truth is... sometimes, it’s complicated.

Before I walked over to the computer to blog, I was sitting in a 12 year old worn out and quite ugly navy blue leather lazy-boy recliner that requires a full on stomach crunch to get out because it leans so far back if you sit in it.  Before I engaged my abs, I sat there, one leg tucked under the other, wishing I could take a bath.  I haven’t been soaking as much as I prefer because I’ve finally got the baby going down regularly at 8:30 and he’s still in a portacrib in our room (next to the bathtub which is also in our room and not our bathroom) and Jay is pretty much in bed by 9 every night  due to his 4:45 am rise and run over to his dad's to feed cows every morning routine.  He’s tired...legitimately so.  It’s not like I’m a particularly loud bath taker but I do like to swish the warm water around from time to time not to mention that it feels weird to be sitting in the tub in the almost dark.  Besides, it is very loud when it drains so I choose not to.  Instead, the house is quiet so I sit in that blue chair and think...

Why do I still have this ugly chair?  I’ve wanted a chair and a half for a decade.  Why haven’t I bought one yet?  Answer:  Middle age frugality and priorities.  Why buy a new chair when you have a perfectly broken Lazy-Boy that does the job?  

I think about how I wish I had some chocolate to eat while simulaneously squishing my belly fat with my fingers and wishing it away.  I think about how I haven’t been in the basement in over a month which means the bathroom down there hasn’t been cleaned in over a month and how I’m a little afraid to go down there.  I think about my marriage and wonder if Jay is happy.  I think about my boys and how much they deserve that I be knowledgable and sincere if I’m making it my job to raise them.  I think about last week’s lesson in YW about the Patriarchal order and this weeks lesson about how the Priesthood blesses the lives of women and squirm a little about the answers I give these impressionable and fine young women.  I think about how so many people I love are struggling right now.  Financially.  Emotionally.  Physically.  Spiritually.

Even now, I had hoped to turn these words into thoughts that make sense and supported a central idea in a readable and somewhat entertaining or at least revelatory way but the truth is, I’m not a very talented writer.  I’ve been trying to write about this for awhile and I know- I know I can’t adequately explain this feeling. Five paragraphs in and I’m distracted. Embarrassed. Lonely. Overwhelmed. Angry. Worried. Disappointed.

Truth is, life is hard.  Relationships are hard.  Callings are hard.  Parenting is hard.  Taking care of a house is hard.  Taking care of my body is hard.  Taking care of my spirit is hard.

There is so much to do.  All the time.  I think I could handle it better if I had the solid perspective that all of the required to-dos were as purposeful as I’ve been taught to believe .  I know what the right answers are.  I say them myself to other people.  But, lately, there is so much to think about as well.  The truths that used to be enough for me aren’t quite covering my foundation anymore.  I have moments of wonder that have grown into doubts that I’m having some trouble resolving.  I’m trying so hard to do everything the best that I can so that these things that I believe make sense.  I try and be grateful for the ridiculously abundant blessings in my life and end up resenting certain things even more.  It’s all so burdening.  Even knowing the answers.  Especially knowing the answers.

Truth is...it’s late (not even 10:00.  But I’ve been alone in the dark for an hour now.  Good times.) and I don’t want to publish this.  I don’t want the concern or the curiosity or the judgment.  But, the truth is I need to write this.  Because, even though the other things I post are true, this is my truth right now as well.  It’s just not as sweet or cool.

Hair Hell

Dante wrote that there were nine circles of hell.  For the past month or so, my hair has been in level 4, at least.  Contributing to this depth of suffering were pains like five months since my last cut and color, more grey hair than ever, freakish amounts of post pregnancy hair shedding, hair the perfect length for Daniel to grasp and hold onto with his vise grip and a very, very unfortunate bang burn compliments of my CHI flat iron.


Due to my ability to mask some of the problems (bobby pins tried their best with my bangs but it was a difficult job), Daniel’s refusal to take a bottle, lots of medical bills to pay off which sucked dry our disposable income and my embarrassing complacency to be a frumpy mom, I have put off a much needed hair appointment.  When I finally called the salon in order to schedule something on one of Jay’s days off, I learned that the girl I’ve been to the last two times is in China for a year.  So, I went with Walter, who happened to answer the phone and who I’ve since discovered is quite possibly the loudest talker in the entire world.


Walter was kind about my 4th level of hair hell and said he’d put me in paradise with a new cut and color.  I had pinned a haircut I liked of Sandra Bullock and a color example from Sienna Miller and he was impressed with my technology.  I should probably mention that Walter is 59 years old.  Not that he was old old.  Just...a different generation, you know?  In other words, I’m not sure the pictures helped much.


I do not look like either of these women

He put foils in for highlights and then colored the rest with what he called a dark gold and I swear, the lights in that salon made it look pretty.  I told him probably five times while I was there how much I liked the color.  Gone are the brassy blond streaks with dark roots.  Gone are the grey streaks increasing in number at the temples of my head.  The bangs...well...they are short.  But they have to be.  There wasn’t a lot he could do about that.


I was enjoying this new head of hair until my son, Sam, looked at me with an odd smile on his face and said, “Mom.   You look different.  Your hair is orange.”


Gah!  Worst sentence ever.


I went into my bathroom and indeed, there is an orangish hue to my hair.  The kind adjective is copper but I can’t call him a liar like I wanted to do.


What level does this put me in Dante’s Inferno now?  At least limbo.  I’m not out yet.

Daniel - 17 Weeks

I think the world must be spinning faster on its axis because life is definitely speeding up.  Here you are, 17 weeks and turning 4 months this week!  4 months felt like a lifetime when pregnant and yet it still feels like you just got here.  I am all too aware of how short of time I’m going to get you as this adorable, smiley baby.  


After figuring out how to roll from your tummy to your back last week, you decided you didn’t like where that got you at all and have refused to do it since.  You have a case of cradle cap that bugs me if I let it but I know it won’t last forever and that has no indication of your health or hygiene but I still hate those scales on the center of your noggin.  

You hate, hate, hate loud sounds.  I need to get a picture of your super sad face because it is just so sad but those faces come around much less often than your slobbery smile.  It would be mean, but maybe I’ll have my camera handy and then let out a loud yawn.  That gets the downturned face every time.  

That’s it.  No more growing.  You are perfect right now.  Well...maybe one more week?  Just to see how you change:)

A Deacon

In the LDS faith, we believe turning twelve is a big deal. That is the age when a worthy young man receives the priesthood. Seth was ordained and set apart as a deacon today. His father set him apart but with him in the priesthood circle was his grandfather, his uncle, his cousin, the bishop and a member of the bishopric. It was a wonderful mama moment.


We also believe that this priesthood came directly from Jesus Christ. Each man has a line of authority that can be traced back to Him.

LINE OF AUTHORITY

SETH was ordained a Deacon on 15 April 2012 by his father, Jay

JAY was ordained a High Priest on 17 May 2009 by his father, Vaughn

VAUGHN was ordained a High Priest on 25 September 1978 by Donald D. Bushnell

DONALD D. BUSHNELL was ordained a High Priest on 18 August 1963 by Bernard P. Brockbank

BERNARD P. BROCKBANK was ordained a High Priest on 19 July 1942 by Joseph F. Merrill

JOSEPH F. MERRILL was ordained an Apostle on 8 October 1931 by Heber J. Grant

HEBER J. GRANT was ordained an Apostle on 16 October 1882 by George Q. Cannon

GEORGE Q. CANNON was ordained an Apostle on 26 August 1860 by Brigham Young

BRIGHAM YOUNG was ordained an Apostle on 14 February 1835 under the hands of the Three Witnesses;
Oliver Cowdery, David Whitmer an Martin Harris

The THREE WITNESSES were called by revelation to choose the Twelve Apostles and on 14 February 1835 were “blessed by the laying on of hands of the Presidency”;
Joseph Smith, Jr., Sidney Rigdon and Frederick G. WIlliams,
to ordain the Twelve Apostles (History of the Church, Vol. 2, pg. 187-188)

JOSEPH SMITH, JR. and OLIVER COWDERY received the Melichizedek Priesthood in 1829 under the hands of
Peter, James and John

PETER, JAMES and JOHN were ordained Apostles by the
Lord Jesus Christ (John 15:16)

I hope Seth continues to follow in the footsteps of his savior, Jesus Christ.

true, goofy, Seth

Seth’s Yes Day

So, the tradition around here is that birthdays are “yes” days.  That means, that for one day and for things pertaining to that one day, I will say, “yes.”  No matter what.  So far, nothing too extreme has been requested and I think the boys enjoy the power to choose...whatever it is they are choosing.

Seth’s yes-day started with a large pancake breakfast with sausage and bacon.  Mornings with a newborn can be rough so the boys don’t get a hot breakfast as often as they used to and I think all three of them enjoyed Seth’s request.  I know I did!  Seth may have enjoyed walking away from the table without commands to take his plate to the kitchen even more than the meal.  In fact, while I was cleaning up, he probably asked about a half dozen times what he could do to help.  I always shooed him away and he smiled and says, “You mean I can’t help?”  I replied, “Only if you phrase your question the right way,” to which he smiled and left.




His choice of time filler was basketball.  He dribbles and shoots and plays outside incessantly but when I was showered and ready, we left for the bowling alley.  I’m not sure this was his number-one-to-do on his list of birthday activities, but, he wanted to do something and it is kind of slim pickings here in April.  Too cold to do somethings and not warm enough for others.  Bowling was a great choice because it allowed the little kids to have fun too.




Me bowling with baby.



All things are possible with the Ergo carrier!:)





Henry starts off the game using this roller to help him but ended the game by throwing his ball down.



It got a little tricky when Seth started to lose and I could tell he was being a bit fake happy, but rather than get too competitive, he changed his goal to being silly and crazy instead of good.  Mostly, this worked fine except for the one time he sent a 15 pound ball down the lane so slowly that it stopped in the gutter before reaching the end.  To move it along, he bowled another, lighter ball right into the gutter.  Have you ever watched those balls on a string that alternatively whack each other back and forth?  You know, Newton’s third law of motion: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction?  The 15 pounder did complete its journey to the end but now the other ball was left unmoving where the balls impacted.  Eventually, we had to call for help and an annoyed bowling alley employee fixed the situation.








In addition to the bowling, we ate pizza and played video games.  Seth rocked the dance dance revolution and eventually got bored enough to walk away from the game.  It just wouldn’t end.






What boy doesn’t enjoy a driving video game??



Daniel gives Seth a birthday kiss.

I had to run some errands for the family party later that evening so I left all the boys home while I went to the grocery store.  Seth played with his brothers and was excited to eat his request of chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes for dinner.  I was busy in the kitchen from 4:00 on but whatever Seth asked me to do, I must have mumbled, “yes,” because I can’t remember every saying “No.”

Jay’s parents came over on their way to the temple and Seth thanked them for their cards and gifts.  Clark and Stephanie came over as well and enjoyed some cake and ice-cream with us.  Seth specifically wanted his own birthday cake to smash his face into and his wish was my command, much to the horror of Henry who was looking forward to having some chocolate frosted cake.




Almost as tall as his grandparents!



Clark, Stephanie, Ethan and Caden gave Seth a means to annoy his mother...I mean...play basketball in the comfort of his own room!



Card with money from my parents.



Seth’s main present is a trip with one of his parents to some event during the 2012 calendar year.  Jay and Seth are thinking about the possibilities.  Dad would like Seth to choose the BYU v Notre Dame game this fall.  Seth thought the summer olympics in London sounded fun.  We quickly started setting limits to the possibilities.



Seth requested we sing “merry Birthday” instead of “Happy.”  All yes-day requests are honored!



He also requested his own cake to smash his face into.  Here, he’s getting ready to take the plunge!



He goes for it, not knowing Uncle Clark’s hand is coming to help.



Clark helps him really enjoy the cake.



Messy seth.



Upset Henry.



Watch the video to see how it all goes down.

We ended the evening with a candy-filled piñata.  The breaking of a piñata for celebration is a long standing tradition in Jay’s family and Seth has had lots of opportunities to whack at one.  He told me, however, that he has never been the biggest, who usually ultimately breaks it open, or the smaller, who usually gets the most turns, and has thus, never actually broken a piñata.  I assured him that on his birthday, his yes-day, he would get to break the piñata.  And he did.




Caden has a turn.



Then Ethan.



Henry used surprising force.



Clark and Jay loved messing with Sam by quickly raising and lowering the piñata.



Seth uses his all to finally crack it.



Picking up the pieces.



Happy Birth(yes)day, Seth!

Twelve

Seth,

It seems so trite to say, “I can’t believe you are twelve!” but...(insert trite expression here). As with any oldest child, your birthday is also an anniversary of me becoming a mother and I think, I hope, I pray that I have learned quite a bit over these past twelve years. Maybe it’s because I think he favors you most, but when I hold Daniel, I often reflect on my young mother days with you. I was such a novice. So determined to do everything perfectly. From sleeping to eating to educating, you were the “the book/pediatrician/experienced mother says to do this” experiment. For the most part, I think you’ve turned out well because and in spite of it all. You certainly are exceptional.

At twelve, you want to be right, funny and cool. With an air of superiority, you often declare things to be so, especially to your younger brothers, but often to me and your dad as well. You like to high five, fist bump and, if the occasion and reciprocating person permits, chest bump (I avoid this). I try my best to play along but know my response often lacks as I am not a twelve year old boy. Your recent new shoe purchase and subsequent handling of them with extreme care has been eye-opening to me. It’s tempting to buy a whole new slew of books and get more advice from pediatricians and better and more experienced moms, but I hope twelve years of mothering has taught me to trust my instincts better and let you be you in the safest and most respectful way.

You like school. You’ve made honor roll the past two trimesters and if it wasn’t for those pesky assignments to turn in, I believe school would be a breeze for you. You like to sing. I’ve noticed that you almost always sing during your routine late-night shower and when it happens to be the disney medley you are learning for choir, I smile. I smile even more when you choose a primary song or hymn. You like your friends. I’m always trying to pry information about who they are from you but, since you’re not a sharer, my observations tell me you have chosen some good ones. Mostly boys from your soccer team who appear to be bright and outgoing and who like sports, school and probably girls. That last subject is the one I can’t ever get you to talk about. I try not to worry but I think it’s hard to be a boy these days and wish I knew how you felt.

You read and play the piano differently than I do and even though I don’t understand your ways, I’m just glad you have ways. You jump around in books, rarely reading strictly chronologically and although the music sits in front of you at the piano, you work out most of the problems in rhythm and notes by ear and muscle memory. I think you’ve figured out that piano can be kind of fun and you complain about it less. You sleep through your alarm. Every. Single. Time. You are an anti-dog because its beeping is high pitched and incessant and you sleep right through it. I can hear it downstairs and across the house but even though it is a foot away from your ear, you hear nothing. Thankfully, your loud brothers and empty stomach usually wake you up in time anyways. You drink milk with abandon. At least a half gallon a day.

You ask questions when we read the Book of Mormon together. I enjoy your thoughtfulness...that you are trying to figure out what your parents believe. More thanks to an incredible scout leader than either your or our initiative, you are progressing quickly through the ranks of Boy Scouts. Already a 1st Class and nearly a star. Your second year of 4-H has you leading and caring for your steer with much more confidence. Just like your steer, Tebow, enjoys having his buddy, Noche, around, I think you’re glad Sam is doing it with you this time. I love watching you both work.

I’m proud of you. I’m proud of who you choose to be and who you are becoming. I admire your faithful spirit and compassion. I love your silly and profound. I promise to better tolerate your messy and scatter-brained-ness. I just love you.

Love,

Mom

Daniel - 16 Weeks

Asleep on his back...finally.  It took some screaming, though.

You rolled over for the first time on your 16th week birthday. I put you on your belly for some tummy time and went outside to turn on the grill for our hamburger dinner and when I came back, I found you smiling at me from your back. I’m happy for your milestone but know the next few days will bring some growing pains. For weeks now, you have been sleeping on your tummy during naps and nighttime. Now, you roll onto your back and it takes you a few extra minutes to find that comforting thumb of yours. I hate to hear you so mad, but...we have to do it! I hope you forgive me once you get back into your good sleep groove.

I haven’t even attempted to give you a bottle for two weeks now. I gave up after your tantrums in Montana and even though it means you and I are glued at the hip for awhile, I am thankful you’re a good nurser and love that downtime with you. Sometimes, you get too distracted making googlie eyes at me and start talking and giggling and I have to remind you to get back on task. Or your thumb gets in the way. You do love that thumb. So much that your skin below it is red and chapped. Bummer.

Your favorite thing to do is to “stand.” If you’re fussy, the first position change I try is to life you up with your hands and have you stand on my legs. Inevitably, you will break out the smile, even in your most grumpy mood, because you’re so pleased with yourself. Such a strong, big boy you are.