I Spy

Today we decided for Family Home Evening to go on an "I Spy" walk. We created a list of all the things we wanted to see on our walk, and then headed out to try and find them. The list included:
A Pond
A Bridge
Grass with Flowers in it
Trees
Bushes
Clouds
Blue Sky
Sunshine
A Butterfly
A Bee
A Dog
A Red Car
Birds
A Duck
People
A Bell (Lucy described it as the kind with a string on it in a tall tower then you can pull the string and the bell will ring...good luck finding that outside of a fairy tale...or a church in England)
Spit Up (Inevitable when Logan is involved in anything)
We walked around the property a bit and found a cool Echo spot, lots of pretty flowers, and we spotted most things on our list. We were even able to see the Cochrane Chapel at one point, which the kids thought was really cool. To point it out to them, we used some distinguishable landmarks and said, "See those two clumps of trees, look in between them at the tall pole that is red and white striped...the church is right beside it." Lucy spied it right away, but Max had trouble. When he finally did spy it, he said, "Oh, it's by the whindy pole, and the mountain that looks like an airplane." I guess we chose the wrong landmarks.
The walk took longer than we expected because Lucy decided to stop every foot and look at the wildflowers. "This one is SO beautiful!" They picked a couple for me, which was very sweet, but eventually we had to nix the looking at wildflowers cuz we just weren't getting anywhere. I guess she's a "stop and smell the roses" kind of girl...and lilacs, and sunflowers (any flower that's yellow), and daisies, and alberta roses, and grass, and leaves...and...and...and...joy in the journey, right?
Max's favorite part was laying down in the tall grass and hiding. He thought it was amazing that the grass was tall enough that you couldn't even see him.
Now I'm going to go bathe Logan, while they've run to town to get donuts and formula. I love nights like this.

Matchy Matchy

My kids are so cute on Sundays. Well, they're cute everyday, but especially on Sundays when we're in our best. They let me pick out the clothes on those days (usually) and I try to involve them in some sort of coordination of the outfits. It's pretty cute.

seriously?

we're sick again? I really need this to be done. Max has diarrhea, Lucy's nose is gross...I think Logan might be coming down with something and my throat is sore. It's so frustrating. Is it my house? Or is this just the nature of having kids? I'm washing my hands so often it hurts.

My Life These Days

I've already exhausted the two pairs of shorts that actually fit me this week, so now I'm resorting to rolling up the bottoms of my maternity jeans...come on baby weight! can't you just fall off my body while I sit on the couch eating fuzzy peaches watching desperate housewives so my other summer clothes will fit again?

HELP!

is anyone else having a hard time with blogger? It's not letting me post pictures and the font is all screwie. Help please. What's the deal?

CSI

I came across this crime scene in my bathroom this evening. The culprit had long-since fled the scene, leaving me to do some investigating in order to track them down. (In case you can't tell, it's loose powder make-up.) So, who is to blame? Suspects: a little girl who loves make-up, or a little boy who loves touching things that don't belong to him. Let's look at the evidence. The bathroom door had been closed with the light left on, suggesting someone was trying to hide something. Not the typical behavior of the 5-year old girl, who is honest to a fault. Too sneaky for her...but not for someone else I know. Then I spotted this...a ha! The fiend left a footprint! It's difficult to know who's footprint it is without some further investigating. So I grabbed a shoe. HIS shoe, and measured it against the footprint.

Seems to be a perfect match. I guess we found our criminal. When confronted up at Grandma's house with the following interrogation, he crumbled:
Mom: Hey Max, guess what I just found in the bathroom?
Max: What mom?
Mom: A big mess!
Max: I tried to open it but it was stuck and then it EXPLODED everywhere! (big eyes)

They always talk under such tough interrogation.
Sentence: No jail time, or even a time-out, but the little Max had to do some community service, in the form of vacuuming up the mess.

I was fortunate to have this happy Horatio helping me out too:

To The Dads

As Father’s Day is approaching, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Dad’s in my life, and decided to take this opportunity to pay tribute to them. I saw on my sister’s facebook the other day that she had posted: “I have the best mom EVER” which many, including myself, have agreed with. But I don’t think the Dad’s ever get enough credit…so here you go Dads…here’s your credit from me.
There are 4 different Dad’s in my life, and I want to take the opportunity to acknowledge each.

My First Dad of course has to be my own. The Dad I’ve had since birth. He gets teased, a lot, and takes it all in stride, which is probably why he gets teased so much. There isn’t much that gets my Dad worked up. He has his frustrations, and his anxieties, but all of my life, I can remember a pretty even standard from him. His joy comes from simple things. Family, a show on the History Channel, or a game of solitaire on the computer. He loves learning, and has spent his life filling his mind with every ounce of knowledge he could cram in there. Some of it we find useless, but you never know when a bit of useless trivia might come in handy. My Dad is a Student of the Gospel. From my Dad, I gained my first testimony. He taught me to love the scriptures. He taught me to love God. He taught me to love and honor the Priesthood. His devotion and conviction is palpable. I think sometimes as children, we think that our parents have to be perfect. They’re parents, so that’s the way it has to be. And it isn’t until we become parents ourselves that we realize how much we don’t know, and how much we live by the seat of our pants when it comes to children and raising them. As I have parented, I have gained a greater respect for my own. It’s hard work. And you’re living it moment by moment, without any instructions. My Dad is humble, yet proud. In the good ways, usually. His loves for family and the Gospel drive pretty much everything he does. My Dad also taught me about affection. He’s a hugger, when most around him are not. He is white shirts and dress pants and Sunday best most days of the week. He is a rescuer and has saved me many times…from fender-benders, from heartache, and from poor decisions. The nice thing about a dad who likes to play solitaire late into the night, is he’s almost always awake when you get home and need someone to talk to.

My Second Dad is the one I inherited when I got married…although I think the relationship began long before that. Scott is a noble. Maybe not by birth, but by character for sure. Many people have told me they are intimidated by him, which I’ve always found so hard to believe. While Tyler and I were dating, I would often sleep on the hide-a-bed and end up having late night talks with Scott after everyone else had gone to sleep. We talked about work, the gospel, teenagers, raising kids, pretty much anything that was on his mind. I had never met an adult before who would be so honest and talk to me like I was already a grown-up, even though I was far from it. He treated and has always treated me like my opinion matters. He, also, is fiercely devoted to the gospel of Jesus Christ and his family. It’s been fun to see him in the role of Papa, and how well he treats my kids. He teases his wife for spoiling her grandkids, but I have seen the twinkle in his eyes as he gets excited about sharing or buying something new and exciting for his grandkids. He reminds me of the way my Grandpa was to us. Scott is a ‘get down and dirty and get the job done’ kind of man, which inspires me and has me forever grateful, because he has instilled that quality in my husband…and that’s a pretty great quality to have in a husband. He loves his wife, and shows it. He plays with his boys and shows love and tenderness to his girls. He works hard…too hard most of the time, but rarely complains. He takes care of his mother. He honors his priesthood and goes out to serve wherever required, not needing to be asked.

The Third Dad of course, is the Father of my children. My wonderful husband. Like I said before, when you’re growing up, you think your parents HAVE to be perfect and know all the answers, and it isn’t until you become a parent yourself that you realize that there is a lot of guessing and a lot of testing and a lot of praying to get it right. I am grateful for my husband that he does not shy away from these responsibilities. He is happy to play and teach his children. He is willing to work at it. He is willing to pray with me as we strive to be the parents that we want to be. He’s never too tired to share a smile with his kids. He loves to cuddle his babies, and wrestle with his big kids. He’s teaching them to work and to love. He is fiercely devoted to their mother and ensures his children treat her right (not a bad place for me to be). He supports me as a mother, and encourages me. He is a problem-solver and will get his hands dirty…even with diapers. It a wonderful thing, watching the boy you were friends with, turn into the guy you have a crush on, and then to the man you fall in love with and finally into the Dad you are amazed by. He is my perfect teammate and makes being a mother easier because he’s such a great Father.

The Last Dad is my forever Dad. My Heavenly Father. I am grateful to have a knowledge of Him and His plan. I am grateful for the love that I feel from Him daily as I struggle through this life. I am grateful that in my weakness I can go to Him and feel buoyed up immediately. I am grateful that the other three Dad’s in my life are striving to be like Him. I feel at awe about the love that He has for us, and how it’s not a general, generic kind of love, but a deep personal love for each one of us. I think of Him in everything that I do, and pray that I may be pleasing in his sight. I know that I am weak and imperfect, but I am grateful that He is not. He is strong and perfect and willing – and that’s exactly what this daughter needs.

Author Unknown

People think I'm crazy when I tell them I love childbirth. It's not that I like pain--I don't. But there is just something about working really hard to get something really good. My husband and I have the routine down: we do whatever it takes to get through a contraction, then I slump back on the bed, as limp and peaceful as a noodle (as peaceful as a noodle can be) and rest before the next one hits. It's hard work, but when the baby is finally born, the pain doesn't matter anymore--and I experience joy beyond description. (Then I swear I'll never do it again.)

It has recently occurred to me that childbirth can be one huge metaphor for motherhood. We "labor" day in and day out, moment by moment--scrubbing, brushing, wiping, flushing, buckling, holding, washing, folding--it's a wonder more mothers don't drop dead from pure exhaustion!

So here's my theory: Heavenly Father knew how challenging motherhood would be for each of us--physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. So He sends us "mother mercies." You know the moments--the ones that sneak up on you and make you smile or laugh or get teary-eyed. It's like the time I caught a whiff of my five-year-old and realized he'd put on his daddy's deodorant that morning. Or when he used to pray nightly, "Please bless that morning will come in five minutes." It's the time I found a bar of soap in my bathroom with one (and only one) set of teeth marks in it. Or when my preschooler asked me, "Why did Jesus cover our bones with skin?"

Perhaps these little mercies are like the pauses between our contractions of motherhood--the moments that make us say, "Oh yeah. I really love this mothering stuff."

Contraction: Baby spits up.

Mother Mercy: Three-year-old cries in alarm, "Mom! She's spilling!"

Contraction: Five-year-old climbs on counter to find sweets.

Mother Mercy: He explains he was simply finding dessert for "Family Home Ming-Ming."

Contraction: Patting your squishy tummy left over from pregnancy.

Mother Mercy: Patting your baby's squishy tummy that you got in return.

Contraction: Feeling overwhelmed and grumpy.

Mother Mercy: Oldest child says sweetly, "Mommy, if you say a prayer, Heavenly Father will help you feel better."

Think about it--what an interesting phenomenon. In our very hardest moments of mothering, Heavenly Father sends us these little flashes of reprieve to help us keep going with a smile. True, we have diapers and back-talking and tantrums and spills, but we also get kisses and first steps and stick-figure drawings and hand-pulled bouquets.

Look for the Mother Mercies in your own life. I promise they will pop up everywhere--when your toddler trips the alarm at the library (like mine did) or when he pours soda down the bowling alley gutter (yes, mine) or when you find your envious child stripped down to his nothings at the park, staring longingly through the fence into the city pool (Whose kid is that? Oh, it's mine). The Mother Mercies are always there. Don't miss them!

One Sunday while I was juggling my three little ones, an older sister in my ward leaned over and said, "This will all end someday, believe me." To which I replied, "Oh don't tell me that! I'm having so much fun." Who knew that doing something so hard could bring me so much happiness? And just like the finale of childbirth, I'm hopeful that this mothering thing--this exhausting labor of love--will someday bring us joy we could never comprehend was possible.

Update

Lucy and Logan each had an appointment to get vaccinated today. Logan for his 2-month (since we got snowed in for his last appointment) and Lucy for her 4 1/2 year.

Lucy Jane Williamson
Height: 104cm or 41" (3'5")
Weight: 16.2kg or 35 3/4 lbs

Logan Tyler Williamson
Height: 60 cm or 23 3/4" (2'1 3/4")
Weight: 5.6 kg or 12lbs 5oz
Head Circ: 42 cm

Both are happy and healthy and very brave. Lucy wanted to go first so she could help me with Logan after she was done. She got a hippo sticker and a Dora sticker for being so brave. We'll see how the next few days go with the expected fevers and aches that they are sure to get.

Big Girl Graduation

Yesterday was Lucy's last day of preschool. The teachers organized a picnic graduation party at the ranch for today and we all hoped and prayed the weather would cooperate to allow us to participate. As I was up this morning at 6 with Logan the sun was shining bright and it seemed fairly clear, so the plan was to go. We got up and got ourselves ready and headed to ranch to enjoy some outside time and celebrate with Lucy. The kids were asked to bring a teddy bear with them, so Lucy chose a pink one and Max brought an army beanie baby because he has to do everything she does. The preschool kids headed up on the stage and formed a semi-circle with their bears and sang a couple of 'bear-themed' songs for the parents. Then it was time to hand out certificates of achievement to each of the kids. Lucy's said, "For always doing her best." Other kids' said "for learning their letters", or "learning how to read", etc. I was pretty pleased with Lucy this year and all the progress she has made. I felt a little bit at times that the teachers might not have gotten to know her quite as well as maybe some of the other kids, but she always seemed very excited to attend school. Her report card had very nice things to say about her and praised her accomplishments, but also made Tyler and I aware that the teachers don't really know how much she has learnt over the last year. So I decided to create my own report of my special girl:
For the first few weeks, she was really nervous and even got to the point where she would scream and cry when it was time to drop her off. But that quickly faded away and finally grew into her begging us to go to school and counting down the days until it was time to go again. She has made friends, which hopefully she will continue to play with after school is done. She knew her alphabet and how to count before she entered the class, but now she knows how to write all of her letters and can recognize them all. She can spell a number of words and has begun to read with a lot of success, as we have been working our way through the Book of Mormon. She loves crafts of any sort, but especially loves drawing. She takes a lot of time to ensure that her pictures are accurate and pays special attention to the colors she chooses, trying to make her picture look as realistic as possible. Her favorite things to draw are pictures of her family, and hearts. She can be quite critical of her skills as I believe the picture that she creates in her mind doesn't quite translate to the page yet, but she has improved a great deal. When she colors, she pays special attention to staying within the lines. She does math, without even knowing it - for example, yesterday there were 5 perogies left. She suggested that we have them for dinner, and then she said, "Dad could have two, since there are five perogies and only four of us." I think that's pretty genius, myself. Her teachers commented that she can count to 15 - which we thought was a pretty silly statement, since she has on a number of occasions told to us that she can count all the way to 100 and then proceeds to prove it. Most especially, she has grown more outgoing and confident in herself and yet hasn't changed a lot. She's still shy, she loves being obedient and especially loves it when people acknowledge her obedience. She tells me all the time that she just likes to do what the teacher asks. She's respectful and polite and is heading into kindergarten with a pretty great foundation.Max was pretty bored with the proceedings until his friend Oliver showed up with a soccer ball, and then it was off to the races. They explored around the ranch together, and had a hard time leaving. The graduation was supposed to turn into a picnic, but the gray clouds blew in and it chilled quickly, so most family took off after the ceremony was done. We stopped by A&W for a special lunchtime treat and then were back home in time for Logan's nap. It was a pretty successful outing and something I was grateful to experience with her. Each of the kids got to bring home a loot-bag of sorts with crafts they had made and a few treats from the teachers. Each of the kids were supposed to draw a picture of what they wanted to be when they great up. Lucy said and always says she wants to be a cardiologist. (This came about when her cousin Ashley required a few surgeries on her heart and Lucy wanted to help make her better) I'm sure the teachers don't hear that one too often! So here is a picture of her as a cardiologist, with her doctor's mask on. Notice the patient in the bed is smiling...she must be doing a good job.

Worth it

So the week of Mother's Day, Lucy's school was having a special Mother's Day party at the school where the kids could play and show off crafts they had made for their moms and they brought in a photographer to take school and family photos. We had had a really rough night that night, and all woke up not feeling that great, so I decided to skip it. I explained to Lucy my reasons and then got in the shower. She was disappointed, but understood. But as I stood in the shower, I thought about how this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She would never again be in preschool and have a Mother's Day party, or get these school photos. And as terrible as I felt, I knew in the future that I would feel worse if we missed it. So we got ready SUPER fast and dragged ourselves to the school for the last 45 minutes of the party. I knew Logan was going to be cranky, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. The photographer did a great job, and got us seated right away so we had a chance to play before the event was over. Here are some of the shots of Lucy and the rest of us. That cute face makes it worth it.

Oh Max

While he's sitting on the toilet:

"Mom, your glasses are oreo shaped"

"Do you mean oval shaped?"

"Yeah, ovals."

Made me laugh.