Bryce is out of school this week due to Kindergarten testing.
We've been having a great time together.
We bought flip-flops. He's kept me company as I finish up the wall in our back yard. He helped me build this:

We've been to two nurseries together, gathering plants. He's been my little buddy and it's been great.

However, it hit me earlier today that this is the final week it'll ever be just me and him. My baby boy begins first grade at the end of July and I can feel the loneliness of an emptying house already pressing in on me.

This is the true irony of motherhood. You spend all their young lives wishing for just a little extra time to get something done or a little 'me-time' on the side, but then you get more time than you've ever needed, just about they're getting so pleasant to be around. *sigh*

Before I was a mother, I longed for the joy of walking hand in hand with a chubby-fingered toddler. That was my image of contentedness. I still hold hands with my kids, but as they leap out of the car and go off to school, I barely get a hug before they launch into a world that I only get an occasional 'volunteer/visitor-status' visa.

I'm going to savor the rest of this week. Spend a lot of it looking into Bryce's every-changing, clear eyes,  listening to his latest observations about pill bugs and iPad games.

Life moves so fast.

No, not the kitchen remodel.

Not the labor intensive backyard landscape alterations.

Summer.

Is it over yet?

The kids radio ears have me completely tuned out.
They are no longer capable of not hitting/shoving/biting?/"stabbing" each other.

Of course, the prospect of entrusting my final child to the hands of the public school system has me excited, but I'm afraid that this last four days is just going to do us all in (and even then Bryce doesn't officially start until August 3rd).

I'm so sad. I've really made a good effort throughout July, despite surviving kitchen remodels and evening swim lessons, etc. to be generous with playdates, activities, patience... You try, but it's a bummer when they've learned from all your pre-Summer faults. Where is the love?

It's list time.

Here is a list of the things I am most looking forward to accomplishing when all the kids are in school (you love lists, I know you do):

• weekly trips to the temple



• housework without interruptions



• volunteering in each classroom



• going back to school (me)



• more genealogy



• quiet time



• going to the library by myself



• joy at seeing my kids at the end of their day and feeling like I can take them on with enthusiasm

It's a simple list.

I'm not going to do it all the first week. I'm going to savor this list and savor this time. I think I've earned a little bit.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

--by Emily Dickinson

I am constantly amazed by how the littlest efforts we make toward the betterment of our parenting abilities seem to reap great rewards. When I put my hand in the Savior's and let Him lead me by his example it feels like I am holding hands with hope. It shouldn't come as a surprise that He is so willing to offer aid to us in our most important responsibility (our children).

Harmony and cooperation definitely ebb and flow in our home and it felt like the tide had been out for far too long. I was ornery, dissatisfied and was feeling like my only choice in the governing of my children was to come down on them harder, coerce them into obedience. It really only takes a day or two of feeling like this to realize it's time to re-examine things and see what needs to be fixed.

I always get very frustrated about bedtime. When I close the doors to my children's rooms, I view it (too strongly) as a mark to the end of my parental responsibility for the day. I don't have to feed anyone, answer another question, break up another argument or remind anyone of a task uncompleted.

My children view their doors as boundaries which must be crossed.

You see the problem here...

Anyway, the other day, after a get back-to-bed-you-can't-have-any-milk moment with Bryce, I put myself in time out. In reflection, I realized that my parenting lacks one of the most prominent of Christ's attributes: compassion.

It hurt me to see how much the lack of compassion had built me into a type of dictatorish, imperial meanie. I repented. I asked for help in being compassionate. I began to read again Christlike Parenting by Dr. Glenn I Latham. It's amazing how easy a self-help book can be when you really need help. The thing that I read yesterday that really stuck with me was about keeping the home a place where the child feels safe. A place where they know they can bring their concerns up for discussion without worrying they are going to be reviled, or that their concerns will be minimized or shrugged off. If home is not safe, then they will go elsewhere.

Yesterday was a good day. Bryce was ready to put up a lot of fights with me. He was inclined to large fits. I didn't fight with him. I let him have his fit (which was probably longer because no one made him repress it), but then I was able to praise him for turning it around later and letting us have a fun time together. He brightened when I shared how I understood that it was frustrating to have to do something you don't want to, but I was happy to be with him. For me, the best part was that I had no apologizing to do, no bitterness toward my child, no guilt.

Yeah, I was frustrated, but it's only my first compassionate day. Yes, I am very worried that I won't be able to keep it up. Yes, I worry about my awful temper, but compassion, as a word, is striking me strongly and I think if I can hold onto that I'll be okay.

(one last thing, if you can bear with me...as a joke, I was telling the kids that Cam and I have super powers. I said Cameron's was super-compassion and that mine was my lightning quick anger. Dane said "Yeah, Mom, but haven't you noticed lately that you've been losing your super power?" Score!)

Yesterday was a good day

I adopted the 27 thing-fling from The Fly Lady years ago and I was 27 at the time. I have just increased the # in the exercise to match my current age.

I like writing up the occasional list on this blog. Just my thoughts or even a to-do is fun for me. I combined the two ideas, for a very long Christmas to-do list. Santa has his list, now I do too.The Christmas 34-To-Do:

1. Remake my mother's famous caramel recipe because the first batch turned out crunchy.
2. Keep the poinsettia from our good home teacher alive until January.
3. Keep up with the exercise...just enough to keep me moving.
4. Hang up the rest of the ornaments on the big tree now that I have more hooks for them.
5. Keep the kids from shattering the dearest-to-my-heart decoration.
6. Keep the birds fed.
7. Make a snowman with my kids, if it ever snows on a day other than Sunday.
8. Make a Christmas mix CD with my kids
9. Make popcorn balls for my husband
10. Make ginger bread cookies for Santa with my kids
11. Divide my purchases for Cameron to see what he's getting for his birthday vs. what he's getting for Christmas
12. Do the same thing for Dane
13. Go on a date with my husband that has nothing to do with Christmas (Did you know I'm actually willing to hire teen-aged baby-sitters now? One giant step for this mom...and her marriage)
14. Go on a date with my husband so I can pick out a bicycle. Santa's getting me one.
15. Get going on that garland I've been planning since October.
16. Teach kids (yep, even the boys) to simple embroidery so that we can decorate the above garland. It involves a lot of felt, cut into a lot of trees.
17. Take more pictures of my kids, even if the lighting is bad, because they're so cute and they just keep growing.
18. Decide (quickly!) on the version on O Holy Night to sing at my parents' ward later in the month.
19. Try my hand at a great appetizer I tasted the other day. It involves chopped cranberries, green onions, cilantro and jalapeno.
20. Snuggle with this baby (my nephew)
21. Snuggle with this baby (cuz her momma lets me)
22. Put together gifts for my brother and his family.
23. Keep the house in good condition
24. Watch holiday movies. I hope It's a Wonderful Life is on TV for Christmas Eve again. Nothing like crying and wrapping at the same time.
25. Better remember my grandma for Christmas. She gives so much and sometimes I forget to be more than the spoiled girl always on the receiving end.
26. Get sleep.
27. Embrace the calories that will come into my life if when I don't get that sleep. (Hey Dr. Pepper)
28. Go to the beach. (Bryce threw that one in. I'll go in my dreams)
29. Finish Zealand's sweater
30. Whip up scarves for Dane and Bryce using my yarn stash.
31. Take our gently used items to the D.I. to make room for this year.
32. Deliver neighbor gifts
33. Read to my kids a lot
34. Read from the Gospel of Luke with my family, remembering the Savior together.

There you have it. Now, I think I'd best be getting on to one of those thing-flings myself and clean my house!

I'm not surprised that, after a total of eleven incidences of my children coming out of their rooms after the good-nights have all been said, I've been feeling a little bit irritated.
I know that I'm often irritated at all the little tasks that it takes to raise children that are still eight or younger. I get frustrated that they don't fall into line because they ought to know by now what I expect of them. I have been re-listening to April's conference addresses and I just finished listening to Elder Ballard's talk "Mothers and Daughters." He had been speaking about teaching by example, not just through words and then he said this:

"Teach your daughters to find joy in nurturing children."

You can probably already tell where this is leading, but to be honest, I do not find a lot of joy in the banal routines of young motherhood. I know this is mainly my fault, but I'll get to that in a minute. Elder Ballard's statement has shaken me up. In thinking how Ella observes my day to day mothering, what she sees, well, it makes me want to weep. I think of how I sigh like a martyr if I'm asked to leave my seat at the dinner table to retrieve one more thing from the fridge for the still-incapable child. I think of how often I show my disappointment as soon as I walk in their rooms, don't bother to show them that I'm happy to see them, because I'm too occupied by the blindness caused by my critical self.

What kind of mother am I raising?

I don't know if I never was a child myself. I don't know how to connect with my children. I'm caught in my own cyclical web of guilt and selfishness, which is:

If I spend time with my children, whether playing or teaching, then they are going to want more of my time and then I am going to have to tell them 'no' and then I'll feel guilty about that and may even resent them for either the time stolen from me or for the self-inflicted guilt, so...I don't spend time with my children and then I feel guilty...
My favorite poet, William Butler Yeats wrote a poem entitled Never Give All the Heart. It's a beautiful and sad poem (what other kind is there?), but I see that this is what I do. I protect myself, trying to preserve "ME" in the formaldihyde of intellectual self-indulgence, holding portions of my heart back from my children, my husband and my God.

What kind of mother am I raising?

He continues: "If the mothers are thrifty, so are their daughters. If the mothers are modest, so are the girls. If the mothers wear flip-flops and other casual clothing to sacrament meeting, so do their daughters. Mothers, your example is extremely important to your daughters—even if they don’t acknowledge it."

I'm not sure I deserve my beautiful daughter. I have never been a girl's girl. Growing up, my best and truest friends, ones I have never felt uncomfortable with, have been boys. This continued, in essence, until I was a missionary. Sometimes, I look at Ella and wonder how I'm ever going to be to her all I feel like my mother is to me. My mother has a gaggle of girlfriends and they rely on each other in ways that I cannot fathom. She seems gives her all to everyone.

Sometimes, I wonder if I've missed the best window of opportunity with Ella (I've even written poems about it). I am ridiculously envious of her love for her dad. She will often leave my lap and my arms just to follow him about the house.

Now Ella's dad frequently reminds me that Heavenly Father can help me with anything righteous thing I need help with. Elder Ballard helped turn the spotlight on the problem and I'm going to try to have faith that Heavenly Father can help me see the actions I need to take to raise a righteous mother in Zion, despite my being so often crippled by the world, that I can find joy in my posterity. Cameron also tells me that when faced with mistakes you repent and move on and should not continue with self-castigation.

So here goes...

Seems like I've been reading a lot of blog haiku lately and I'm adding my own now.

Driving in the car

The repetition of days

Kid education

I am dreaming of the day when I send Dane off to third grade, Ella off to Kindergarten and Bryce... when I take Bryce to preschool twice a week for two hours a pop, I will have four hours to myself each week.

Wow.

I'm gearing up. I am making plans. And they are good, good plans.

I only have four and a half months left.

What are you dreaming about?

(DISCLAIMER: I'm really quite fond of my children, so it's not about not being with them, but about being with me)

I don't know why I did it, but while waiting for birthday cakes to finish baking for the joint Cami/Mandy birthday party yesterday, I figured out how 'old' Dane was in months. It turned out to be 100 as of Saturday. We both thought that was pretty cool, but this morning I just realized what that means to me.

I have been a mother for 100 months.

It's hard to remember when I used to gage my children's ages by months. Now that my youngest is roughly three and a half I don't give those months much thought. How things have changed since this whole enterprise began!

Some things that I have learned about myself in the last 100 months:

• Motherhood is the toughest job I'll ever love


• I have an anger management problem


• I am a hypocrite


• I am a better mother to boys


• I would die without my little girl


• I like blue clothing


• I don't like wasted food


• I love teaching, exploring and thinking with my kids


• "You are the meanest mommy ever" shakes me up and it hurts me so badly.


• "I love you more than the universe" are the most beautiful words in the...universe!


• I need prayer more than I ever thought possible


• When I make statements like the previous one, I fear having teenagers so much it's hard to breathe


• Regret, the big elephant, has moved into the room


• I cannot handle more than three kids and I am at peace with that


• All I need is love (to give and receive)


• My kids have a lot (of good things!) to learn from me


• I have more to learn from/because of them


• I don't believe I can learn to balance husband and kids. Either one or the other is on the top of my list. Thankfully, it changes...maybe that's balance.


• Privacy is important to me, even if I just get five minutes a day.


• My mind is a great place to vacation

I am so grateful to be a mother. It is the most incredible thing that has happened to me and it happens every day.

I know that when I signed up for this that I had no idea how painful and fulfilling it would be, how bitter and how very sweet.

Dane, Ella and Bryce, for better or worse, you have made me what I am. I may not always like how I do things, but I love myself better because of you. You are the best gifts a mother could have.

I love to scrapbook and so I'm always looking for ways to communicate what the photos on the layout aren't saying.
For me, personally, I haven't been 'journaling' my journey in life. I'm one day going to reach the destination of who I really am and I'm not going to remember squat about it.

Bryce currently has some fecal fascination and I can't keep the stuff off his hands. He won't tell me when he uses the toilet and how am I supposed to know? We're working through it. He'll look at me with those amazing big eyes and I sense that he's waiting to see if I explode or manage to stay in control and promise him a treat if he'll do better next time. He's crazy full of imagination right now. So alive and not out of control, but full of everything wonderful a toddler should be.

I know that God loves me because I have three wonderful kids that teach me daily that I am important to someone. Mothers definitely get their share-more than their share-of criticism. Half the fiction books out there have some mention of the wrongs the protagonist received at the hands of their mother. One day, my kids will be grown and they might sit around and discuss what a crummy job I did with this choice or that choice I made as a mother, but if their experience is anything like mine, they will also be able to love me just because I am me and they will somehow know that, despite it all, that I loved them with all my heart. That I broke it a thousand times for them. If I'm really blessed, they'll be able to see that they broke it, too, sometimes, so much so I didn't think I could go on with the next five minutes.

There is so much drama in little kid/parenting life.

Ella is so tender, but it sure seems like she's been working the emotional system lately. I cannot even give gentle correction without her eyes pooling with tears. It's frustrating, but it is making me more aware that her needs are different from two boys and that I can accomplish that without coddling.

Hang on- Bryce just earned a treat (see above mention of Bryce).

Dane is an amazing kid. He is very concerned for others, yet at the same time, he uses very selfish tactics. This polarizing way of living seem very appropriate for an eight year old. They do make sense. He can really help around the house like never before and I have seen him be fascinated by the things he sees me and Cam do and then I show him he can do them too and he gets excited. Yesterday I showed him how to use the electric can opener.

Ella's crying because Dane has teased her. I never know if it's a big deal or not. I finally understand why my mom said (when we came to her with over-the-top crying) "You'd better be bleeding!"

She's snuggled against my chest now. I have learned lately that she really just needs time and a hug. I try. She is so lovely. So affectionate and I do love how she looks us right in the eyes, still, and communicates her love to us. She is all that i wanted in a little girl. She is deliciously imperfect perfection.

It's time to have a place to record the little wonders in my life, especially when I get to have a two-way with God. I'm getting myself a journal that doesn't have to plug in.

You (mostly) are all parents out there.

As you progress in your parenting journey, you are constantly met with challenges that propel you into another uncomfortable stage.

First you think, I can't wait to get this kid OUT!

Then after thinking: "What was I thinking?" you realize next that nursing really, a-hem, sucks. (Though I am a huge proponent of nursing and have loved it, let's face it. It really hurts to begin with. I don't want to be a target of the Le Leche League.)


Then you wonder: Can it really be healthy to be missing out on this much sleep?!

Suddenly, nursing wasn't so bad when you realize that you're about to give up the security those diapers have afforded you for so long and you enter the masochistic world of potty-training.


Well, I have entered the next phase which is supposed to be both protection and enlightenment for the eight-year-old child, but freaks any normal and loving parent out who has to do it for the first time ever. This is the stage of The Sex Talk.


Cam and I both read through How to Talk to Your Child about Sex by Linda and Richard Eyre and I bawled. I thought Cam was going to handle this first one! Alack and alas, this is set up (beautifully, I admit) for both parents because SEX IS AWESOME! and it is all about love. We've been progressing toward this one via the authors suggested methods and plan 'any day' to plan a day to make that talk happen.

HOWEVER, in the interim, Dane is preparing to receive his first badge, his Bobcat, from scouting. In going through his scouting book, we breeze through the initial requirements and make it to the eighth and final item.

What is it?

Talking to your son on how to protect his sacred body from those who would do it harm.

Of course. And I am alone.

Once again, the idea of having this talk, worried me to a frazzle, but I tell you, tender mercies reigned and rained and Dane and I had the BEST, most comfortable, open discussion about the dangers in the world. I told him that these safety rules (as outlined by the Boy Scouts of America) were going to give him power to protect what was so sacred to Heavenly Father and belonged to him alone. Dane was home due to not feeling well and Anisa invited Ella and Bryce over for some play time so it was just him and me. Afterward, I could tell he felt empowered, not nervous and embarrassed and frightened of the world around him. I could see that what this talk was really about how much I and his dad love him and how much we never want anything to happen to him. He hugged me randomly throughout the discussion, which was maybe 15 minutes long. It gave me a good idea of what he knew (nothing) about this subject as well.

After all my worrying, it felt so natural to have this inital talk with him, because truly, I love him so much that all the awkward nervousness melted into nothing because it simply didn't matter anymore. Only Dane matters and that is a beautiful thing indeed.

In the other room I can hear Dane trying to persuade Ella to participate in a Pokemon battle with him. She doesn't want to and says:

"Why don't you ask Mom to do one with you?"

"Mom?" he scoffs loudly "She's not even in the club!"

I feel so humble and at peace this morning.

I know part of the reason has to be that the special holiday season begins this Thursday. Although Thanksgiving is often overlooked in decorations, do we truly forget this holiday where we gather together surrounded and surrounding the bouty in our lives? Thanksgiving never ceases to bring gratitude for too warm kitchens, wonderful smells of amazing food, and body-packed homes (or restaurants or church cultural halls) with people I love. The kids are fresh-scrubbed and dressed decently. Adults care less about their mischief. I love Thanksgiving and I love the Thanksgiving prayer on the food.

More peace...

Many of you use the music application Pandora. Did you know you can also have an LDS/Inspirational station WITHOUT (audio) COMMERCIALS? http://www.pandora.com/ I found Kenneth Cope, Hilary Weeks, Jon Schmidt, Jenny Jorday Frogley, MoTab, Paul Cardall, etc. We've all been listening to it this morning and it's really been great! It lends itself to a very sweet Sunday morning.

My kids have been sick with icky coughs (mostly at night) and Bryce was in some kind of pain last night that made him weep (is he too young for growing pains?). The blessing of being able to take care of my kids, their physical ailments, humbles me.

What a blessing to be needed by someone so small. I love being a mother.

It's all I truly wanted to be when I 'grew up.' I'm far from the best mother and this, of course, keeps me very humble. Isn't this all part of the plan anyway? I'm really grateful to be part of Heavenly Father's plan. I know that He knows me. What better gift can I have?

(by the way, this last picture is of me and Dane CRASHED on the couch during my creation narcolepsy period aka pregnancy with Ella)

It is hard to teach kids about gratitude.

Especially when it comes to praying. Kids constantly think about what they want/need (and it's a good thing they tell me about it or no one would eat around here)...oh and about having fun. My kids are always praying to 'have a good time.'

Yesterday, for Family Home Evening we went around the table and had everyone tell us something they would be sad about if they didn't have it. When they would say something, then I would say: "Well, you must be grateful for _____ then." I'd let them know that it was something they could thank Heavenly Father for during their prayers.

They were all worth mentioning, but here's what I remember.

Ella:

Her room

Her brothers

Her toys

Dane:

His home

His family

His clothes

Bryce:

His Daddy

His Clothes

His room

Cami:

Technology to help with chores

Temples

The Scriptures

Cameron:

His car

His clothes

His wife

Then bedtime came with nighttime prayers. I had the boys (we switch off each night for bedtime routine) and Dane helped Bryce with his prayer. Both prayers were rich with gratitude and at the end of his prayer, Dane's voice was becoming a bit choked. He finished and I asked if he were okay.

Quietly, he asked me if I knew how sometime people cry when they're happy?

Yes, I replied and I let him know that he was feeling the Spirit tell him that what he has shared with Heavenly Father was good.

It was a good moment. Those moments you pray for. I am grateful that I could be there for that.

You know how it goes...laundry is the forgotten chore until someone asks you about this or that piece of clothing (usually the husband, how does he go through so much, so quickly?). There's food to prepare, beds to make, bathrooms to scrub and then oh! the laundry. I forgot I was going to do that today.
Today as I sifted through the varied sizes of t-shirts and jeans, lonely socks and new (yay) towels to fold and return to closets and chests of drawers I was given a good punch of gratitude in my heart for my piled-up laundry.
Gratitude because it means that we have enough clothes, are blessed with more than enough, that even though I don't keep up with this important chore, my kids are still dressed, warm and clean.
I'm so grateful to live in a prosperous nation and that my husband has a job.
Such an easily-forgotten blessing, clothing, but I was happy for the reminder today.

(photo credit)

Good morning to everybody!
A new monday is upon us and I got a good night's sleep!
I've already ironed , breakfasted, tidied and sent #1 son off to school.
#2 son and only daughter are selfishly (on my part) tucked away watching a movie at 8:50 AM because mommy needs some alone time.
Do weekends do this to you too? Leave you wishing most of the weekend that the house was your domain again and that little people and that big guy you married would all take a break from the place at different intervals?
Sometime I do.
I remember when the weekends were relaxing. I remember waking up on Saturday morning and reading in bed til nearly 10 AM with the soft breeze flowing into my room. I was 15, 16, 17 back then. The radio was on and "To the Sky" by the Cure would magically come on, the perfect soundtrack for the infiltrating sunshine through the blinds. Sigh...
So here's Monday, the big work day for mommies recovering from having their loved ones around all weekend. I can get quite a lot done during my alone time. And it's time to go do that now.
Good Monday to all!

Husband: Yessir...This is your true road side rotgut!
Wife: Mmmmm
Husband: Don't tell me you're enjoying this stuff!
Wife: John, it's amazing what tastes good when you don't cook it yourself!

My children are extremely picky. I've made no secret of that here.
Lately, I throw dinner together nearly every night with stuff that ranks just above junk food (with a side of broccoli) just to avoid the belligerent whines and complaints about any and everything that isn't exactly what each of them wants.
For awhile, I was making them try new things, bribing them if I had to, and it's worked up to a point. Yes, they'll now eat chicken that hasn't first been breaded and fried, they'll gobble up pork roast as well. Broccoli takes a little more persuasion than usual, but probably because it's cold nowadays.
You see, when the kids complain they are sent to their rooms for a break (it sounds severe, but if one complains suddenly each kid loses their appetite). This delays the start of dinner and everyone gets increasingly cranky.
Sunday dinner, sadly, is our worst day. I really make a nice effort that day to give Cam what his mom would do if she were making dinner. Lots of extras...stuff I would rejoice over if it were made for me, yet even so I'm excited to eat.
It takes us two hours to eat Sunday dinner with several trips down the hall to talk about appropriate and respectful behavior. I guess the more food their is even though they aren't required or expected to touch most of it the more breaks they need from the table.
It's exhausting.

Will the madness ever end? Will my kids ever learn to eat food based on trust and not what their eyes tell them? Will they ever eat carrots? Will they ever savor the glorious taste of a home-grown tomato? Will they ever have salad with their croutons?

Is this the end this mother sanity?

Yes. Yes it is.

Ella definitely wants me to know how much she loves me.

Right now she's into that Guess How Much I Love You-mode and it's really adorable.

She's trained the boys, too, to say: "Mommy, you're the best mom in the whole world."

It's been nice to hear for the last few days. :)

Tonight she said: "Mom, I love you in every land and all around the world."

Ditto, cute stuff!

After the following information was shared and very well received during a recent discussion amongst friends, I wanted to share with all of you. It's from a book I'm reading called Christlike Parenting:
"Well-meaning parents who have tried their best should avoid the temptation of using their children's behavior as the measure for their success as parents. If children's behavior were the sole measure of good parenting, our Heavenly Father would not qualify." The writer admonishes us to do our best and go forth in faith.
Sound advice.
Have a happy parenting day!

First of all today is my 9 1/2 year anniversary. We were married on Friday the 13th, too.

Bryce has apparently reached his sugar threshhold (what with stealing his brother's candy any chance he gets) because he has eaten 'lunch' for breakfast the past two days. I only got him to eat his 'breakfast' for lunch yesterday because I fed it to him (yeah, he'll be 2 1/2 in two weeks) and because I pretended that there were monsters in the bowl of oatmeal and told him that he needed to eat them quickly. I also acted like the bowl was jumping around like crazy and that the monster wouldn't hold still. The kids were in stitches. Now he's just finished a bowl of "Mac-an-cheese." Whatever. At least he's eating.

This morning, just after Cam left for work, I spied a present for me on the table. Yipee! I opened it up and it is a book I'd asked for called Christ-like Parenting. I have been trying lately to wrestle person demons of selfishness and anger, trying to be a better parent and giving my children the respect, love and good mommy-ness they totally deserve so I thought this would be a great addition to my efforts. I told Dane about my gift and he said essentially that it sounded good because up til now it had been Crisis Parenting. Ouch! He provided the play on words, I furnished all my own guilt.

Cute little thing about Cameron...he often has little phrases and such in his head that he heard as a child and never corrected as an adult (but now that he is married to the super grammarian...). Example: "For all intents and purposes" was, to him, "For all intensive purposes."

Now that it's February, I've noticed he says ValenTIMES. Funny, odd, but he used it to his advantage on his gift to me. "Will you be my Valentimes for all times?" Awwww...he's sweet!

Recently, Cam and I watched Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor. I was struck again by how unearthly blue Mr. Newman's eyes are. Seriously.

So, this morning, I came up with a fun activity to post. I shall call it: "The Eyes Have It"

Just see if you can figure out which movie stars' eyes you are seeing here. There is a multitude of variety here old & young, some dead, some still making movies. Good luck! The first comment in the comment section has the answers.

Now, I've given you plenty to comment on, so feel free. :)

Bryce just came up to me and told me "Ella's being mean. She's not my best friend."

"Who is your best friend?" I inquired, expecting the answer to be "McKay."

"Mommy is."

Oh, Brycie, you made my day!

If you haven't commented on yesterday's post yet, please do!