Category Archives: Immediate Family

Update

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I haven’t updated this for another two weeks. My, time goes fast!

Nothing is happening in my life except these things (decide for yourself if they are exciting).

  • Our house is fully furnished and we almost have all the pictures on the walls. We also have just a few shelves to put up, and I want to add family photos in frames to those shelves. My color printer on the fritz, so I guess I should just pay to have them printed.
  • We have spent every Saturday for the past few weekends working in the yard. It looks bad, but it’s getting a little better. The house had been vacant for a long time, and while they must have had a yard service mowing the lawn, the planters were rather neglected. This weekend we got mulch and in the next few weeks, once Chicago stops frosting and I’m sure there won’t any more snow (when might that be?!), I may get some plants in the ground. Maybe then I’ll show pictures. I don’t like yard work at all at this point, and would love to have the money to hire someone else to make it pretty. I’d rather do an inside project in that time, of which I could choose from many.
  • I got my haircut. It looks bad. I didn’t get it straightened (I decided it was too expensive this month), and with all the humidity and rain we get in Chicago this time of year, it’s just horribly frizzy. Sigh. Maybe in two months I’ll get it straightened. I dislike it almost as much as I disliked my hair before I got it cut. (it had been 15 months since my last cut; it was time.)
  • I’ve gotten a cold every two weeks for the past three months, but thankfully, I don’t think it’s the swine flu.
  • Paul is finally starting to talk. It’s delightful to understand him! He’s also becoming a sporadic napper, meaning there are some days when he’s awake 12 hours and I don’t get a break. That’s not so delightful but we’re managing. Lots of visits to the library (where there is a train table).
  • Ryan is still traveling Monday mornings through Thursday nights. I’m so glad he doesn’t have to leave Sunday night! The few interviews he’s had have been of the “we’d-love-to-hire-you-but-can’t” sort, thanks to this crummy economy. We’re looking at options for the future and the long run looks promising, although it means he’ll be traveling for the foreseeable future. At least he has a great job!
  • I am the primary music leader. They have had substitutes for about three months, so they are delighted to have me. I love my calling.

I don’t update very often, and it’s good to look at this and remember that life is good. We’re so grateful for all the wonderful blessings the Lord has given us.

Musings on Cleaning with a Kid

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I told Paul he could stay in the family room, playing with his toys: I was going to clean the bathrooms. I put the Scrubbing Bubbles container on the corner of the kitchen table and grabbed a few rags from the laundry room.

In the ten seconds I was gone, Paul grabbed the cleanser. (Apparently, he is now tall enough to reach things on the table. Make a note of that.) Then he took off the lid (I have no idea how he was successful so quickly) and went into the bathroom. When I walked into the bathroom, he was rubbing the green nozzle of the bathroom cleaner on the lid of the toilet. (He knew the bubbles had something to do with the nozzle, but wasn’t sure how to get the bubbles out.)

Wow. I was blown away.

Now, I’d love for you to suppose this is a reflection on how often I clean the toilets. Trust me – that is not the case. It’s been at least two weeks since I cleaned the bathrooms and the time before that was, I think, when we first moved in (three weeks before that). I think I just have the most clean-aware child on the face of the planet. Or maybe he’s just going through a very serious “I want to imitate Mommy” stage.

After I sprayed the cleanser on the countertops, Paul grabbed the hand towel and tried to reach the counters himself. As I Swiffer-ed the bathroom floors, Paul tried to steal the Swiffer from me. When I scrubbed the toilets, he wanted to take the brush away from me and splash it in the toilet too. (I didn’t let him, and he was very sad.)

(Paul did dip his finger in some of the Scrubbing Bubbles and put it in his month. Ooops. Trust me, Paul, that’s not whipped cream! I think he realized that when he made such a face…)

I don’t think this interest in cleaning is normal for an (almost) 18-month-old. Or is it?

Don’t get me wrong — I’d love to encourage it. I personally hate cleaning the bathrooms (among other things) and I dreaded Saturday mornings  as a kid when my sister and I were forced to clean (although we made up for it by singing “It’s a Hard-Knock Life” the whole time because our “mean mom” was like Miss Hannigan when she made us do chores). I look forward to the day when I can make cleaning the bathrooms a weekly chore for my son and not for me.  Wouldn’t it be nice if he actually liked to clean?!

I was going to post this little anecdote on Paul’s Page (where I post weekly updates and stories about Paul). But then I was hoping that some of the other moms out there can share their thoughts. At what age were your kids competent at cleaning? Did they ever express an interest in cleaning with you? How do I keep him interested in helping (even though, right now, he really isn’t helping)?

Happy Thanksgiving!

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I arrived in Utah after my bedtime on November 25. But I still had some smiles for Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul!

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The next day, I discovered a room full of toys! Grandma Peggy watched me play and play and play. I had so much fun. Daddy came that day too. I was very glad to see him.

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Mommy told me that the next day was Thanksgiving. We went to a restaurant. I looked carefully at the menu. I saw my cousins and aunts and uncles. We all ate a lot. I didn’t have any room left for pumpkin pie, not after all that turkey and the potatoes and sweet potatoes. I didn’t like the stuffing, but everything else was tasty.

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We took a family photo. But I ate too much and had a tummy ache. Besides, I wanted my nap. That’s why I have a funny look on my face.

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I also got to see some of my other cousins. Cousin Samuel didn’t really know how to walk yet, but he watched my good example and started to figure it out. Cousin Leah turned three years old. She is such a big girl! I was there for her birthday party. And my great-Grandma was there too. She is so nice!

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Grandma Peggy made sure I had plenty to eat all weekend.

And I met more cousins. I can’t wait until I’m a little older; then I’ll have lots of fun with these boys.

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Then we took more family pictures. At least I could cuddle with Daddy.

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And then I got to smile by the Christmas tree.

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Whew! That’s a lot of pictures to tell you about! I hope you had a happy thanksgiving too!

The Mother’s Way

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I’ve wanted to be more “creative” lately, so I picked up a book of ideas, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. I liked some of her suggestions, but others just weren’t right.

Her main premise is that creativity is God-given, and if we nurture ourselves, we will find it within us. That concept reminded me of Elder Uchtdorf’s talk at the Relief Society meeting:

The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before.

Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.

Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty .

Julia Cameron tells us that the key to career resiliency (that is, finding a creative career more suited to your creativity) is self-empowerment and choice. Since I stepped out of an office (my choice) to have my baby (also my choice) and I haven’t been back (still my choice), I pretty much chose my current career. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

No trumpets sound when the important decisions of our life are made. Destiny is made known silently. Agnes de Mille (quoted on page 144)

Raising a family is my destiny.

I picked up this book at just the wrong time. She has good ideas, but I don’t have time for them. And some ideas really don’t seem all that good. She encourages readers to take the time to write 20 minutes in the morning pages, write another hour every day, and take a break every week for an artist’s date. Get a sitter now, stop serving other people, and serve yourself for once. If you don’t let yourself do these things, she suggests, you aren’t giving yourself the luxury you deserve.

Part way into this book, I realized why I was so bothered: My baby is my luxury. I waited my entire life to be a mother, and I have the blessing of staying home with my baby. It means I’m not going to write for an hour every day. Serving others, particularly my baby, is a great way that I feel spiritual; if I only served myself all the time, I’d feel very depressed. Life is about service to others!

Yet, I think she has good points for people trying to make creativity a career; you can’t make a career out of writing on the side. Toni Morrison (quoted on page 97) said:

We are traditionally rather proud of ourselves for having slipped creative work in there between the domestic chores and obligations. I’m not sure we deserve such big A-pluses for that.

I completely agree: I’ve been trying to slip in my creativity during the day. But that’s not how it’s done. If I’m serious about my writing, I must be serious when I write.

Cameron would probably suggest that I’m afraid to start being creative, so I’m using my baby as an excuse. Maybe I am afraid. But she does asks the reader to ponder what gives us true joy (page 110), and we are encouraged to pursue that thing. I realized that I already am pursuing it: my baby gives me true joy. Yes, it’s hard work to always watch him every day. No, there really isn’t any time off, although there are nap breaks most days. I suppose that to be truly creative, I can’t be a full-time, never-stop mom, as I am. But I don’t want to change that for any amount of creativity.

By reading The Artist’s Way, I’ve been inspired to seek moments of creativity. I won’t write a novel this month, but I’ll start writing the morning pages. I might not make a daily career of my writing, but I’ll do what I can on the side.

That’s not something to be proud of, but it’s what I can do now, in the midst of my dream career. And I can be proud of following “The Mother’s Way.”

One Year Old

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Paul is one-year-old today. I spent all day trying to think of something creative and deep I could write on my page that shows how much I learned in the past year and how much I love my little boy. I didn’t think of anything clever.

Today I did wipe his nose a number of times . And we ate. A lot. He’s a happy little boy, but my does he love to eat!

I love my little boy. I’ve learned a lot.

The Little Things

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There are so many little things that I’m enjoying about being back in the USA. Living in the USA is so much more comfortable!

  • Turning on red lights
  • Baggers at the grocery store (although I wonder how much we pay for their services in additional grocery store prices)
  • Long conveyer belts at the grocery store (long enough to fit all my groceries so I can completely unload my shopping cart)
  • Empty parking spaces in the parking lots so I don’t have to drive around and around looking for a spot
  • A garbage disposal in the kitchen sink
  • Netflix! How I love this service…
  • A library where I don’t have to pay to put a book on hold and where I can get any book in Chicagoland for free.
  • Grandparents and cousins to call on the phone when my day is their day

There are also little things I actually miss about Australia that I didn’t realize I’d miss:

  • Long-life milk. Why isn’t this an option in the USA? I loved storing a two weeks’ supply of milk in our pantry! Our fridge is so small, there is no space for a week’s supply of milk; I’m going to have to go to the store more than once a week after all…
  • My husband not traveling. He goes to New York City starting next week. Over the past year, I really liked having him home. But he’s had more than a month of vacation, and while the job search is well underway, these things take time, of course. I guess I’d hoped the new job would jump out at him in that one month and I wouldn’t have to watch him get on a plane again….

Oh, wait. That husband thing isn’t a little thing: it’s a big thing.

Random Thoughts

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Departure Pending

My husband’s boss has agreed to let him finish the project this month, as well as take two weeks’ vacation. We’re going to New Zealand in two weeks and returning to the USA at the end of the month. Hallelujah! It’s not that we don’t like it here; we’re just ready for the next stage. We’ve kind of been pulled back and forth since May. (I never thought I’d miss all of summer! We’re going from winter back in to autumn.)

Old Stuff

My husband has a shirt with a rip by the wrist. He wears it almost every week. I told him he needs to throw it out. Really, what will people think about me as his wife?! That I can’t keep my husband from being shabby? Then he pointed out that I keep my brown shoes.

My brown shoes were bought before my mission (in 2003). They were very nice for a few years, and I took pains to polish them regularly. However, polishing the shoes no longer does any good, as the leather has worn through. The company no longer makes that style, so I can’t replace them. They are very comfortable, so I still wear them nearly every day. I guess I never wondered what people think. They are just comfortable shoes to me.

Hmmm. Now I have a dilemma: My shoes or no more old shirt?

Medicinal Matters

My husband got ill for the third time in the 13 months we’ve been here. Of course, then both Paul and I got sick as well. My husband rarely gets ill in the USA. Why are there so many bugs here?

I’ve determined why: they don’t have proper medicine easily accessible. If you go to the supermarket, they have three small shelves. One the first row, every bottle says “All Natural Ingredients.” On the second and third rows, there is no such notice on the bottles. No matter, as soon as turn it over to look at the ingredients, you realize all three have Echinacea, Zinc, and Vitamin C. Nice things to take if you’re sick, but hardly a Cold and Flu remedy as the bottle proclaims. You’re still going to be coughing on your co-worker all week.

To get real medicine (the kind that actually suppresses your coughs, stops your nose from running, or makes your coughs productive; the kind with lots of chemicals in it), you have to go to the chemist (pharmacist), which might have them behind a special counter. You have to ask for them. And then it’s a very small bottle. If you want to have more, you must visit the doctor and get a prescription.

As for the doctors, General Practitioners are pretty useless. They should be call LPs, Limited Practitioners. Among other things, I was told I just had muscle cramps and it turned out to be gall stones. Yeah. GPs are worthless. (They are essentially free for Australian citizens under Medicare, so maybe socialized medicine is not such a good thing, huh?)

So why are there so many bugs in Australia, and why do we keep getting sick? When people get sick, they take natural ingredients, which do nothing to stop the sneezing and coughing. Bugs are spread, and more people get sick. That’s my philosophy.

If you like the natural route for medicine, you’d love Australia! That’s what it is. Personally, I like medicines that work when I’m ill.

Sniff.

Don’t Talk To Strangers, Starting Next Year?

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Ever since Paul was born, I get comments and smiles and questions every time we go out:

  • Oh, he’s so cute!
  • What’s his name?
  • How old is he?
  • What a great smile!
  • How many teeth does he have?
  • etc., etc., etc.

I understand this. I read somewhere that people talk to pregnant women and mothers because everyone in a community is interested the next generation: the next generation influences the current generation. The entire community is therefore interested in what mothers do.

The other week, I realized that now that Paul’s getting older, soon, he’s start remembering that he’s smiling at strangers at the supermarket. When do I tell him to “never talk to strangers”? And where do we draw the line for “stranger”? For example, is the checkout girl a stranger? What if she’s new and we’ve never seen her before? What if there is a weird man in the line behind us? Do we still answer when the checkout girl asks us my son’s name and how old he is?

This may come across as paranoia. I don’t really think anything bad will come of telling the checkout girl my son’s name. But I’m seriously curious: when do we stop talking to strangers? Or, rather, when do we stop encouraging our kids to talk to or smile at strangers?