Tell 'em Lies, Tell 'em Sweet Little Lies...

A confession...I lie to my children.
Just swallow the moral uprising in your chest and hear me out...
Children are very tricky little beasts. And my children have somehow learned that while they may be small, many a small and simple thing can take out a seemingly superior mother/father figure. Irrational questions, whiny voices, and unparalleled stubborness on vague issues are just a few of the tools they use. Simply speaking, they fight dirty and sometimes the only way to get ahead is to play the game their way. So...when Bekah won't eat her dinner of yummy spanish rice and tortillas, I tell her the rice will make her tongue super RED, and the more she eats the more red her tongue will be. And would you believe that broccoli actually makes her tongue super GREEN! And then, to top it off, both she and Jacob have little baby alligators in their tummies that are starving! And they are crying, and if they would just eat their food then they would be full, happy baby alligators. These are not, of course, the same alligators that live on the hill by our house. No, that's a mommy, daddy, and baby alligator that pull our van when we're going on long trips. They go really fast and that's why we can't stop when she drops her granola bar/book/doll. Another strange creature that goes on trips with us is the "little Hailey" that resides in the back pocket of my seat, which is right in front of Bekah. (Really when I told her this I said "there's a little alien in that seat pocket", but she misunderstood and thought I said Hailey, who is the 6 or 7 year old very blonde, cute daughter of my friend) Anyways, Bekah knows that if she kicks my seat, the little Hailey will jump out and pinch her on the nose. Another terrifying feature of our van is the eject button. Oh, yeah. If you don't have one you should go talk to the manufacturer. Our van has automatic sliding doors, and if you push the button to open them while you're driving, they make a loud "beep. beep. beep. beep" sound. Bekah hears this sound and thinks that it is the last thing that she will here before being mercilessly ejected into the sky above. It's actually not the most effective tactic because it results in her screaming "NO! DON'T EJECT ME!", but Rus gets a kick out of it and uses it way more than I do.
Hmmm...I think that's the majority of it. There is the gunny bunny that eats toys that get left out over night, but I think he's a pretty common household figure.
So, I hope you don't think any less of me. I am grateful for Bekah's vivid imagination, that she indulges me in all of my schemes. It sure does make dinnertime, driving, and life in general much more interesting...

Scary Faces and Sick Daddies

Bekah! Jacob! Show me your scary faces! Ahh...they crack me up. Especially Jacob. Who can resist that adorable scary face?

And this next picture below is of Bekah putting makeup on Jacob. What can I say, I was trying to get ready for the day and they were well occupied. He might have walked around the rest of the day looking like he had a black eye, but I think that says more of Bekah's makeup artist skills than anything else.
I wish this picture below didn't show up so dark on here. Rus, my love and my best friend, was taken ill with the flu last weekend. I learned something very important about myself in those dark hours...I have an irrational, unreasonable, deeply felt irritation for my husband when he is sick. Yes, I am openly admitting this. I am the lesser person for it...while he is sick and apparently dying, I work my hardest to ignore him and be away from him. If there was a doggy door into our bedroom I probably would have put his meals and meds through it at the appropriate hours. I was a gruff and prickly person, though I tried hard to not scoff too much at his venture to the emergency room (It must be STREP!...oh nope, it really is just the flu), his new addiction to cough drops, and the double digit hours of sleep he received everyday (we're talking 18 hours here, at least.) I would like you to note, however, that while my daughter might be like me in many ways, she did find a small wellspring of sympathy for her ailing dad, as shown in this picture. She climbed up on the couch, petted her daddy's face, and spoke to him in the soft, soothing tones that one uses when speaking to the infirm.

What do I want for my children?

I've realized that every night when I pray for my kids to be happy the next day that I've got it all wrong. Let me explain...Last Saturday our ward put on a Valentine's dinner, which they do every year (I love it!) and then while we were eating they showed this video from Better Life Media called "Life Would Be Easy if it Weren't for Other People". We watched about 20-25 minutes of it. Connie Podesta was the lady in the video giving the audience a combined comedy/therapy session. I'm not sure if the church dinner was the right place or time to show the video, but I really liked what she had to say. She's a marriage/family counselor, and she said that about 25 years ago she had her clients fill out a survey and name what they wanted most for their children. She said that the number one thing parents wanted for their children was for them to be RESPECTFUL. Number two was HARD WORKING. Number three was COMPASSIONATE. Their children's happiness was not even part of the equation.
I bet we all could guess what parents today want most for their children, and that would be happiness. Parents worry so much about their children's self-esteem that they don't want them to be part of a competition where there are winners and losers. Every child on a little league team gets a trophy whether they did well or not because heaven forbid they think they're not as good as someone else on the team or on another team. We are high on compliments and low on constructive criticism. What kind of real-life lesson is it when we are always complimenting and boosting our children, and never attempting to help them recognize where they fell short and could do better? I have realized that when I concern myself so much with my children's happiness, I neglect to discipline them. So everytime Bekah cries I ask myself what I am doing wrong as a parent. She is becoming a really good moper, and I always feel compelled to cheer her up when she is moping. So instead of being respectful, hardworking, and compassionate, she is a whining, unhelpful, rude little person a lot of the time. I know a lot of it is really the self-centeredness of toddler-dom, but I also know that if I work with her she can be a person who is respectful to me and her dad other children and parents, and that she can be so helpful and kind to me and others. I will always want Bekah and Jacob to be happy, but I think I've realized that while I can teach them by my example how to be happy, I can't be in charge of their happiness to the point of neglecting to teach and discipline them. I really want them to be respectful, hardworking and compassionate. So maybe that's what I'll pray for tonight...

Clubfoot Club

Today I got welcomed into the clubfoot club...I had an ultrasound last week and while we could definitely see that it was a boy, we could not see one of his legs very clearly. So I was scheduled to have another ultrasound today to find that other leg. Ha, ha, what a joke, is what I thought. I couldn't get any extra ultrasounds when I was pregnant with Jacob, no matter how badly I wanted one, and then here they were handing me another one. I went this morning to do the ultrasound and the nurse/technician was doing her thing, checking out my baby and then she said with her wonderfully indecipherable accent, "ach, yas, ders da clubfoot" and then I saw her type on the screen "CLUBBED FOOT" with an arrow pointing to it. I let her go on for a few more seconds and then I said, "What? He does have a clubbed foot?" And then she printed me out a lovely little 4D ultrasound picture of my baby boy's inverted left foot. At my look of panic she said, "Oh don't worry,you know they can fix that don't you?" (like it's a cracked radiator and not a baby's foot) Really I knew nothing about club feet, so I just smiled and nodded and waited for the doctor to come explain it. So here, for all of you that are as uninformed as I am, the below picture is of an infant with two (bilateral) club feet. While the nurse told me that my baby had only one club foot, the doctor thought that both were actually clubbed, just the left one was more severe. I get to have more ultrasounds throughout the rest of my pregnancy to find out for sure. After my ultrasound I got to speak to a genetic counselor who was really wonderful and explained to me how this all works (whilst I balled): I think within a week or so after the baby is born he will have both legs (if it is bilateral) put into casts that go up to his thighs. These will be changed regularly (I think over a 6-8 week period) with his foot being manipulated each time into acloser-to-normal-position. Then he'll go through a minor surgery, then three more weeks of casts, and then he'll wear corrective braces, gradually reducing the amount of time he needs to wear them, until he's around four years old. I think that's it in a nutshell. And I think the amount of time for each step depends on the baby and on the doctor who is treating him. So I guess you could say that my day has been a whirlwind of emotions and my vision of the future has altered enough to prove to me yet again that Heavenly Father is in control, that he has a plan for me and Rus and our family, and that this baby is coming to us because Heavenly Father knows that we already love our baby boy and that we'll take care of him. Please keep our baby in your prayers, that he will be healthy and strong.

(I also want to mention that two typical effects of clubbed feet are a smaller shoe size and a skinnier calf on the leg of the affected foot. So my son will still have cankles like me, but at least his feet won't be huge. :) (Cankles, as my sister Amy calls my legs, are where ankle is kind of chubby so your calf basically runs into your ankle...)

If you want to learn more, here's a website that I found to be very informative: http://www.marchofdimes.com/professionals/14332_1211.asp

In my ultrasound, the baby's left foot looked like this baby's and you couldn't see the right foot very well because the left one was covering it up...

Boy oh Boy

Upon seeing the immediate tell-tale evidence that the baby in my belly is a BOY, Rus beamed with that proud smile that one can only assume means "Yes. Yes. I have done it again. I have made a son", and I couldn't help but think of all those little baby girl clothes that would have fit this baby so perfectly, but now instead will suffer a few more years in the closet. Oh, and the adorable crib bedding (girl, of course) that would have looked so sweet in the crib again. And then I had to sheepishly admit to myself that poor Jacob didn't even get crib bedding. He slept in the port-a-crib, tucked away in the corner of the office until he was at least a year old. And then I also thought, much to my embarassment, "How am I going to handle another little caveman monster like Jacob?" Really I hope this baby isn't exactly like either of my children. I don't think I could handle a carbon copy of Bekah or Jacob. As much as I love both of them, I truly know why now, and thank Heavenly Father, that he didn't make any of his children the same. And then I thought of Bekah...When I told her I was going to the doctor so he could tell me if the baby was a boy or a girl, she said, "I want a sister." And when I told her that I didn't really have any control over that, she made it abundantly clear by her insistance that she didn't really care about that, she wanted a sister. I admit that I was a little nervous to tell her it was a boy when I went to pick her and Jacob up, but by then she either didn't really understand or didn't really care.

So I also included some pictures in this post, even though they don't really go along with the previous topic...But I had to get a picture of Bekah because my friend who was watching her this morning put her hair in curlers and it turned out so cute! This is what happens when my children watch TV. They turn into zombies. Adorable, focused, quiet little zombies...

Warning: Venting Ahead

Rebekah is driving me crazy. I feel like a prisoner being tortured for information. Or some poor unfortunate pray being pecked to death by a vicious bird. Example:

Bekah: What are we doing tomorrow?
Me (mumbling): I'm not sure...
Bekah: I SAID, WHAT ARE WE DOING TOMORROW?!
Me: I'm not sure...we'll probably just play.
Bekah: NO. I don't want to play.
Me: Ooookay...so what would you like to do tomorrow?
Bekah: Let's go to Albuquerque.
(On the way to Albuquerque the next day...)
Bekah: Who lives that way? (pointing out the window)
Me: Grandma
Bekah: Who lives that way? (She does this with every direction, and then she starts over)
Me: Bekah, You know who lives that way! Stop asking me!
(2 seconds later) Bekah: Mommy, look at what I'm doing!
Me: I can't look because I'm driving and if I look we'll all crash and bonk our heads.
Bekah (unphased by veiled threat of death): NO! I WANT YOU TO LOOK! Lots of whining ensues...(At this point I just turn up the music, sing along, and imagine that I'm a taxi cab driver and I only have to put up with this for a few more exits...)
Bekah continues rambling, getting irritated everytime I don't answer: Mommy, are those cows down there? Are there cows and horses or just cows? Why are they just cows? Look at that airplane! Wow! Where is it landing? I can't see it anymore. Move so I can see it. Mommy can you open my puzzle? Why didn't Jakey get a puzzle? Oh yeah, Jakey did get a puzzle for Christmas. I want to go HOME! Are we still in Albuquerque? Look there's Los Lunas. Oh. Nope, that's not Los Lunas. Mommy I'm tired. Can I just take a little nap? (She starts singing..) Ahh-ee-ah-o-ladeladelade-oooo-AHHHHHH! I'm hungry!

Then we arrived at destination: Target. A happy place. I found a shirt to try on, so a few minutes later we're in the dressing room, cart and all, and whilst I try to try on the shirt, Bekah yells, "Mommy, you're NAKED!" (In my defense, it was just a shirt, come'on, you know that doesn't mean naked!) I whisper to Bekah to be quiet. She replies, "WHY? Why do I have to whisper?" I try to explain that she doesn't really have to whisper, I just don't want her yelling lies over the dressing room stall for all nearby shoppers to hear. We end up singing the ABC's together because that's all I could think of. Hmmm..logical conclusion, don't you think?

Incidentally, this reminds me of a wonderful moment Bekah and I shared in sacrament meeting at church yesterday...It was one of those nice quiet moments right after the men finish passing the water, and I was getting out snacks for my ravenous children. I pulled out raisins for Bekah and she said, in a nice, normal, not in any way quiet voice, "NO. Those will make my POOPS too hard!" Ah, there's nothing like a toddler to refine your sense of humor.

So, the only thing that comforts me is the fact that all of the qualities that drive me crazy in Bekah right now will someday be her biggest strengths...like her talkativeness, her energy and exuberance, and her persistance. Meanwhile, all the good qualities that I might possess will get whittled away, year by year until eventually I'll be the one rambling and she'll be the one spoon feeding me and wondering how in the world she'll put up with me for another day. Grim, I know, but honestly, don't some days just wear on you so much that it's hard to find perspective?

A "Lagnaippe" in New Orleans

Well, if I spelled that right up there, it means "a little something extra" in New Orleans. Rus was wonderful enough to take me with him this time on a trip to a conference he had there. It's good to know that out of 20-25 work trips he goes on a year, I might get to go on at least one of them with him...and while the the majority of those trips are to Nowhere, USA, this trip at least was to an interesting place. I'm still not sure what my impression was of the city...I'm thinking the right word is moody. Everything from the weather to the streets to the people. And I don't mean that in a bad way, really, really...it's more that the city had a lot of moods and they're really different from one block to the next. We experienced Bourbon St. on the first night, in the midst of a misty downpour. (Two days later it was 74 degrees and sunny, the last day it was much colder with an icey wind...that's how I mean moody) Let's just say that the safest place to look on that street is the sidewalk. Everywhere else was obscene. One street (or maybe two) over was Royal St., which had great little shops and fancy restaraunts. Then there was Decatur St., that was overflowing with bars and mardi gras stores. I have never seen a place so devoted to just three things: drinking, mardi gras, and food. (In that order, I assume). But if you got away from downtown, there were the most beautiful, ornate, humongous mansions I have ever seen. I think our tour guide aptly described New Orleans as having a history of decadence and opulence, and that was definately evident in those wonderful old mansions. I could go on and on...while Rus was in meetings, I got to enjoy the spouse's program, which included a bus tour of the city (including a few communities that were hit hard by Katrina), a steamboat tour, and then a tour of this wonderful plantation house, a mansion, called the Homas House. I made some great friends, ate so much that all I wanted was a peanut butter sandwich for any meal, and flirted shamelessly with Rus any chance I got. :) So here are some pictures...Enjoy!

We stayed in the Sheraton hotel (the tall building in the middle), a grand place where water bottles in your room cost $3.75 each, internet service is $10.00 for 24 hours, or if you use their computers it's $5.45 for 30 minutes, the workout room costs $10.00 to enjoy, valet parking (the only parking) is $26.00 per night, the continental breakfast is $16.95 per person, and the view from the 39th floor (that's where we stayed) was fantastic.

I do believe that the man on the horse is Andrew Jackson, the building behind him is, of course, a cathedral, the person with the glowing white shoes is me, and the whole square is historically important, although I do not know or at least can't remember why...
Okay, so seeing this great lady standing on top of the steamboat, playing "How Much is That Puppy in the Window" (among other things), totally made my day. It was comical in a way, and if you can't see that from the picture then I guess you'd just have to be there.

I admit that I really missed my kids while we were gone. The trip home involved three airplanes, which translates into three times going up and three times landing, and resolutely confirmed to me that I could never ever be a flight attendant. All I wanted to do was come home and hug and kiss my kids until they begged for mercy. Bekah, while I'm sure she missed me, had only one thing on her mind when she saw me, and that was, "Where are my necklaces?" Rus and I experienced more parades there on Canal St. than our city produces five years. It was ridiculous, over the top, and very "New Orleans". The floats in those parades could all look the same, it wouldn't even matter (actually, they might all be the same) the important thing is that they throw out insane amounts of beads, cups, and other mardi gras fare. So after one parade Rus and I had enough beads to add 10 pounds to my luggage, and we called it good for bead collecting. Now we need to have our own mardi gras party to get rid of them all.
Woo-ee! Look at the man I married! Those masks were so fun! The kids wore them all morning...Bekah put hers on top of her head sometimes so she could see better, and she came up to Rus this morning and said, "Daddy, where's my mask?" And he just pulled it down off the top of her head, onto her eyes. She had the most confused expressed for a couple of minutes and then she said, "Daddy, I found it!"

Well, I think that's all. It was a fantastic trip...I'm so thankful for the experience, and I'm so thankful to be home!