Category Archives: Immediate Family

The Perfect Age

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As we were driving to church the other day, I was struck by how perfect Paul’s age is right now. Although he sometimes has tantrums and he’s certainly opinionated, overall, it’s so delightful being his mother and seeing his blossoming into a human being, and not just a baby. I need to do a better job of recording the adorable and perfect age things Paul says and does. I am going to miss this age so very much!

Imagination

If he wants something, he simply creates it. He’s had a hard time grasping the concept of Christmas being a very long time from now. So instead he creates his own: “Did you know that tomorrow it is Christmas underground?” (His imaginary friends live underground.)

If I can’t play with him, suddenly the imaginary doorbell rings and there is an imaginary friend to play with him. And then there is the fact that he can create anything, you name it.

Games

Paul is in a serious board game streak right now. He loves them. He loves following rules and he loves making up rules. His turn usually takes him about five minutes, so I read a book waiting for my turn. Seriously. But he’s learning about taking turns, about winning and losing, and about counting and money (Monopoly). He loves to play games.

And the greatest thing is that he loves to make up games all the time. “Let’s race!” he says when it’s time to get dressed. “Let’s find shapes!” he said as we were driving to church. And when he said he saw “funny ovals” I was at a loss as to what he was talking about. “I see a lot of them!” he clarified. Cars, it turns out, are funny ovals.

Stories

Along with his great imagination comes his impressive ability to tell stories. I am reminded of my creative story writing when I was six and seven years old. Somehow, I lost that urge to write, to record creative inventions that I imagined in my mind. I hope I can nurture Paul’s story telling abilities so he doesn’t lose it. I’ll be so sad when he grows up too much for stories. I hope that never happens.

Learning

The other day, he brought me the guide book I had about NYC and said, “Mommy, this is about New York!” and I was amazed that not only could he read and understand it, but that he knows New York City is a place, that’s it’s far from here, that I went there. And I know most three year olds don’t read yet, but even without the reading, I love watching his discovery of new things. We’re learning about the moon and about outerspace this week and I love watching his fascination as we read a picture book.

Honesty and Sincerity

Sometimes I don’t appreciate his honesty. (“Yuck! I do not like this soup!”) But other times I find it so sweet.

“I love you,” I say.

“I already know that!” says Paul.

Reflections On General Conference

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Semi-annual and annual General Conference is a touchstone each April and October. As I turn on the computer and tune in to prophet’s messages, I find myself reflecting on where we were six months ago, a year ago, two years ago.

Three years ago, on a Sunday morning, I was in labor. I awoke at 3 a.m. Melbourne time, finally waking Ryan up at 5 a.m., just as the morning session of Saturday conference was beginning (or ending?) in Salt Lake City. I watched the majority of the session on the internet as I curled up in laboring ball on the bed and as I paced the bedroom back and forth. I was not feeling very well and I don’t remember much, but I do remember Elder Cook was called that session. I got through most of the session, then we called our parents and told them we were headed to the hospital. A few hours later (at 3:13 p.m. Melbourne time), Paul was born, just about midnight in the USA.

Two years ago, Paul celebrated his first birthday at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I turned on my computer and we watched it on my little screen in my parent’s family room. Paul was a new walker, happy to giggle and play with toys and listen to the songs. He was very tired when we had birthday cake in between sessions.

Last October, we had invited some friends to come to our house for dinner and conference. But then Ryan and I and Paul were a bit sick and we canceled. I don’t recall that we really watched much. We were sick a year ago April, too. I know because we had invited the same friends and had to cancel. Ah well, some years are more memorable than others. I don’t think it was very memorable with toddler-Paul.

This year, Paul gets it. He recognized the prophet and I borrowed Frank and Elizabeth’s idea and had a few key words we are listening for: Temples, the Book of Mormon, and Prophets. When he heard each one he would get to put a sticker on the page. He lasted through a bit of each conference and even when he’d be playing with his toys and we’d think he wasn’t listening, he’d suddenly stop and say, “Alma in the Book of Mormon! I get a Book of Mormon sticker!” And he’d stop playing to put a sticker (or three) on the Book of Mormon page.

This is a testimony to me that it is never too young to give full attention and expectation on your kids. They are listening to the prophet even when you may not think so. Beyond that, they recognize the spirit and the mantle on the shoulders of those who have been called.

It was a few months ago that, at a baptism, Paul saw the Bishop on the side of the room and said, with barely contained excitement, “Mommy! Look! It’s that guy!!!”

“Oh, do you see the Bishop?” I asked. Our bishop is not very outgoing and talkative unless he has a reason to be, so I was quite surprised that Paul had noticed the Bishop as someone special. But, seeing it as a good opportunity, I walked him over, had him shake the Bishop’s hand, and told Paul that the Bishop was special because he was called of God to serve the ward.

Ever since then, Paul has always been very, very excited to see the Bishop, and always wants to shake his hand. At another baptism last month, he saw the Bishop and I again walked him over to shake the Bishop’s hand.

“Yes, it’s the Bishop!” I said.

The Bishop heard me. “One of many,” he responded.

“But the only one of our ward.” I said. I told him how I was sure Paul had a testimony of his calling as Bishop. He got tears in his eyes.

Yes, our children have the spirit. They know.

Reflections On Being a Stay-at-Home Mom

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When I picked Paul up from preschool, day 1, I realized that I have loved being a part of his every moment since his birth. I have been able to always know what he does, what he says, what he learns. Even when I didn’t want to, I have cared for the inner workings of his body, from his ear wax to his bowel movements (is it not so?). His life has been an intricate part of my life for three years.

From now on, from the moment I drop him off at preschool until I pick him up, there are regular hours of the week that I am not a part of. He’ll say cute things that I’ll never hear. He will have fun activities that I’ll never hear about. He will fall down and hurt himself and cry, let’s hope learning how to calm himself (he’s rather sensitive about “owies”). He will take care of his own toileting needs. And that is how it should be.

Being a stay-at-home mom has its share of ups and downs. I have not loved everything in the past three years and I have my own short fuse for certain annoyances. But it was important for me to send him off to school. I’ll better appreciate the time we do spend together. He has long realized he’s distinct from me, and I need to do a better job of letting go and living my life without following his every movement. I have to trust that I’ve taught him what he needs to get along in the world, and when we are together those are the things I need to make sure I’ll teach him.

In a Relief Society meeting on motherhood a few months ago, the teacher talked about how all six of her children live far away from her. She is sad because she doesn’t see her children and grandchildren as often as she’d like but she can see from associating with them from a distance that she knows has succeeded as a mother in teaching her children to be independent, happy, and well-adjusted in the world, despite the fact that they are so far away from her.

My job as a mother is to help Paul to learn what he needs to learn to be his own person like that, from developing his own testimony to coping with the physical and emotional challenges that come. What an honor that I can do so full-time, and I’m glad to see him branching out on his own, even though it makes me sad just a little bit.

Reflections On Paul’s Third Birthday

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Paul is so old. He has not had a toilet accident in more than a week (and only two or three bed wettings in that time, trust me that’s an improvement over last week since he has insisted on wearing underpants and not pull-ups even to bed). He’s beginning to say “I’ll do it all by myself.” He wakes himself up in the night to go potty. He asks to use a “big boy plate” at dinner and at least one meal a day I give him a cup that is not a sippy cup and he does not spill.

I have just tucked him in to bed after a very fun third birthday. I gave myself a rule this morning that I wouldn’t let myself be distracted by the chores (Thursday is normally my clean the whole house day) or blogging (I like to blog on Rebecca Reads far more than here, if you haven’t noticed) or reading my novel (sometimes I admit that a novel is in my hand as I play with him. It’s amazing how much one can read in the in-between moments every day).

No, instead, today was his day. I gave him my undivided attention. Even as I cooked dinner (his favorite and his request, Cream of Pumpkin Soup), I was still giving him attention as much as I could. And it made for day of delight. I’m just as tired as the toddler, since we played his new Busytown Game for five hours (it requires crawling from one side of the six-foot game board to the other through the course of one game) so I know such one-on-one time is not doable every day. But it was so nice to enjoy my son thoroughly.

I absolutely loved the newborn stage. I loved that I was able to cuddle him constantly and no one tried to take him away from me and I didn’t want to let anyone take him away from me (I was not yet burned out, I suppose). I loved that only I could nurse him. He needed his mother regularly through the day and it was such a special time, even in the middle of the night as we dosed off together. I loved that he was innocent and learning how to control his arms, his legs, his head. Everything was so wonderful about newborn Paul. Even the spit-up I didn’t mind so much as Daddy did.

I haven’t loved the other stages. Once he started to crawl and walk and talk, I found myself wondering why I’d been so excited for those milestones. I didn’t like his inability to communicate and his out-of-control self, even as he thought he could do things. But now, in the past few weeks, I feel Paul has crossed a new milestone and I love this one. This new age, age three, the preschool years, is a remarkable one. My parenting book, which I haven’t looked at for probably two years but recently referred to, calls the twos the “terrible twos” and the threes and fours the “magical years.”

I can really see his world becoming “magical”.  He still cannot control his emotions very well (especially at the end of the day, when he’s been up for the full 12 hours) and he certainly has his opinions on what he wants to be doing and what he wants me to do (“come play with me, Mommy! Right! NOW!”) But suddenly he has imaginary friends, he gets wide-eyed as I tell him fairy tales, and he asks questions and tells stories about the past, present, and future. He’s putting things together, and learning at an exponential rate. He reads his numbers, one to 13; he knows the phonics of every letter, although he doesn’t read words yet; he knows right from left; he knows both of his parents names; and we’re almost there on his phone number. (If I tell it to him, he knows it is his phone number, and if I stop part way through he can finish it, usually).

Today we were driving and he was calling out the numbers on speed limit signs.

“4!5!” he said.

“Yes, that’s 45,” I replied, turning left on to a side road.

“3!0!” he exclaimed.

“Is 30 slower or faster than 45?” I asked.

“Slower” he said, noting the slowed speed of the car.

“Yes! 30 is a lower number than 45, so 30 miles per hour is slower than 45 miles per hour.” We played with our basket of apples when we got home and talked about how three apples is less than four apples. And two and one are both less than three. He doesn’t really get it (well, he probably did for a moment but has already forgotten) but it was so fun to see that the he’s learning and that we can talk about real things. The world is magical, but he’s learning that it can also be explained if he just learns how.

I can’t wait to see where we go in the next year.

Happy birthday, Raisin!

Conversations

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At Home with Daddy

Daddy: Paul, who should say the prayer tonight?

Paul: You! [pointing emphatically]

Daddy: You?

Paul: No, YOU! [still pointing]

Daddy: You?

Paul: No! [thinks a moment] Me! [still pointing at Daddy]

Daddy: Me?

Paul: YES!

While in the Car

Paul: Mooo! Moooo!

Mommy: Oh, is that  cow I hear in the car?!

Paul: Yeah! [a pause] Pig pig pig pig.

Mommy: Um, Paul, are you being a pig?

Paul: Yes!

Mommy: Paul, pigs say “oink,” not “pig pig pig.”

Paul: But baby pigs say “pig pig pig.”

My Heart Took a Picture

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This is a picture I did not take of Paul and Daddy looking out Paul’s bedroom window in the growing twilight at bedtime, Daddy saying, “And there’s one! And there’s one! Paul, do you see the fireflys?” and Paul saying, “Yes, Daddy! Look!” and cuddling a little closer to him, and I smile and tip-toe back downstairs to finish the dishes all the while thinking “Yes, this is why he quit his other job, this is why he comes home at night, and this is why Paul stayed awake to wait for him” and I hear shrieks of laughter from upstairs as I tidy the kitchen and I know life is as it should be.

I got inspiration for this from www.unphotographable.com, which is written by a photographer who has missed some great shots either because it was against the law to take a picture or he did not have his camera or taking a picture would not have been appropriate or he just did not take the picture.

Nauvoo

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As was mentioned, we drove to Nauvoo this last week. The first day (Tuesday), he enjoyed learning about Joseph Smith at Carthage, even if the movie and then the tour was a little too long for him. Then, at the visitor’s Center, a full ten mintues got him through all the exhibits. Lots of exclamations of “Joseph Smith!” and “Jesus” when he saw something familiar. Then, Paul saw two and a half of the restored old houses (he had a fit during the blacksmith, which I thought he would have liked) and the second day he made it through a visit to the bakery. And that was it. I overestimated how “fun” it would be for a two year old.

We did play a little bit at the Pioneer Pastimes station, which has pioneer games. But it was sweltering, so we didn’t stay outside long, and in fact came home Wednesday afternoon. (They closed the outdoor exhibits due to excessive heat and Paul would not sit through the inside things.) Before it got too hot, we also went to the ox cart ride. Homer and his friend (forgot the other ox’s name) walking in a circle for about 4 minutes and Paul got to pet his back. He has said “I rode a Ox!” to anyone who will listen every day since then.

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The Ox Cart

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Paul with Homer the Ox

Paul also loved seeing the Temple.

I think our brief time in Nauvoo was just right for him.

Mommy and Daddy took pictures of the Nauvoo Temple  and so we encouraged Paul to as well since we gave him that cheap camera. He took a couple pictures and then said, “I did already” so I don’t think he understood why his amateur photographer father took an hour of pictures!

Here are Paul’s pictures. I’ve omitted the dozens of pictures of his fingers and of the wall, floor, grass, etc. I know these below still are silly and out of focus but I’m actually pretty impressed that I could tell what he was taking pictures of!

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Yes, he took this himself!

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I held the camera for him while he pushed the button.

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He did this all himself! He wanted a picture of the "other temple," i.e., the Catholic church building next to the Nauvoo temple.

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He did it all himself! He wanted a picture of Daddy taking pictures.

Teasing

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The other night, I was in the other room while Paul and Daddy laughed and played. After a little while, Paul came in to find me.

“Mommy,” he said in a toddler whine. “Daddy stole my nose!!”

“Tell him to give it back,” I responded, trying to surpress a laugh.

From the other room, I could hear Paul repeating this request to Daddy. Daddy, being the joker that he is, said, “I can’t. I ate it.”

I went in a moment later to see Paul with his definitive sad face (lip protruding as far as it would go) and the saddest little look on his face. Apparently, this was pretty serious.

I let him steal my nose too, and all was well. Still, I’ll never forget that little toddler tattle-tale whine: “Daddy stole my nose!!”

Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul’s Visit: A Night and Day in Chicago

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Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul came to stay with me! I had so much fun with them that I still keep talking about them!

We spent a lot time in the car the first night. But that’s because we went to Chicago. We walked down the street to go to dinner together. Grandma Peggy gave me a puppy that we called Billy. I wore Billy on my back and Grandma held on to his leash so Billy wouldn’t get lost while we walked around. there were so many things to look at, I forgot to look at where I was going! But I  knew Grandma was right there with me.

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I was pretty tired after dinner. I got to sleep in a big soft cozy bed all by myself!

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Mommy says she wants me to put in this picture of Navy Pier. She says she took it when she and Grandma and Daddy went for a walk. I didn't see it because I stayed at the hotel and slept in that nice big bed! (Grandpa stayed with me.)

The next morning, I woke up and I was still in the nice big cozy bed! I hadn’t fallen out!

It was a special day because then we went to ride on a boat! I was very excited to see the boat. The walk to get to the boat seemed to take forever and I wanted to be carried. Mommy says it was four blocks. Is that a lot?


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We got on the boat and it was exciting!

Then I was ready to get off. Mommy laughed and said that it had only been five minutes and it was a 90 minute tour. That sounded like a very long time!

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I played with my sunglasses.

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I looked at the water.

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I sat on Mommy's and Daddy's and Grandma Peggy's and Papa Paul's laps.

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Mommy and Daddy and Grandma Peggy took pictures of buildings. Some person was talking about the buildings. I was bored, for the most part. But then we got off the boat and went and ate food! And then we went in a car again. We drove to a Museum called the Museum of Science and Industry.

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I had fun seeing a big tractor

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and I loved the cow. Cows say "Moo!"

I also saw a huge train and a huge airplane. I got to go in both of them. Mommy didn’t take pictures, though. Silly Mommy!

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I also saw a fun toy train set. I watched it for a long time.

Then we went home. That was the end of our day in Chicago. I slept well that night, even if I wasn’t in that huge bed anymore.

ETA (Dec 2011): Post has been post-dated to reflect date pictures were taken. Originally posted July 2010.