Sunday, February 12, 2012


Remember how earlier this week I mentioned it was a doozy of a day/week/month?  Unfortunately, things haven't gotten better.  In fact, I dare say they might have gotten worse.  Yikes!

Some of the frustration of the week (life) involves my oldest son.  He is such a charmer, thank goodness.  Because if he wasn't... well, never mind.  (You'd be shocked by some of the stunts he pulls.)  But I'm trying to not dwell on the negative and instead focus on the good in life.  And if he ever got ahold of this blog, he'd be mortified.  So I'll refrain from spilling the juicy details of my week with him.

So tonight we decided to give Buddy the assignment of teaching Family Home Evening on prayer because he thrives on having a job to do -- and his little brother has been having a consistent problem showing reverence and respect during prayers.  (Yes, he has his issues too.)

So Buddy studied up on the subject, looked for some pictures, thumbed through his scriptures and came up with a remarkable lesson.  G and I kept looking at each other throughout the whole thing.  Who is this kid?  We were so impressed with all his great insights.  He spoke sweetly and patiently to his brother, giving him all sorts of instruction on how to pray and how prayer has blessed his life.

This is his sweet spot.  He was born to be a teacher and as frustrating and ridiculous as he can be, it all melts way when we can put him in a position to demonstrate some responsibility, especially in something that really matters to him.  (Note to self.)

And now a little word on his brother who takes drinks during his dinner prayer, and consistently prays for things like "better toys" and "more legos" and not much else.  (Which is why we needed this FHE lesson).  So at one point in the lesson, Buddy mentioned that after we offer thanks for all of our blessings, we ask for things we need.

"Like a dog?" Sambo said.

"Not quite," I said.  "We pray for help, things we actually need, or for other people."

"I NEED a real dog," he said.

And then he burst into tears saying he needs a pet puppy really really bad.

We went around and around about this. All three of us (mostly Buddy -- he was the teacher, after all) tried to explain why that's not an appropriate thing to pray for.  Nothing changed his mind, though.  Over the course of the FHE he probably mentioned he wants a dog thirty times.  At least.

So then we gave him a chance to practice what he had learned and like a good pupil, he prayed for all the wonderful things Buddy had suggested we include in our prayers.  Then he threw in a side note about better toys, more legos, and a real pet dog.

I give up.  Anyone else want a crack at raising my kids????!!!!!

(Because in case you don't know me very well, these children will never own a dog.)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


If it wasn't for G sending me a text telling me he loves me once every hour all day today, I probably would have had a really bad day.  It's amazing what a difference love and support makes.  Especially when it's pure and real.  It's been a doozy of a day/week/month.  But, that's OK.  Love you, G!

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Parenting Outside the Box

Well, we made it to February before Buddy frustrated his teacher enough for her to call me.  I know he's been better than the previous two years.  Much better.  But I think making it this long is mostly a function of how relaxed and supportive his teacher is this year.  She has given him a very long leash.  Unfortunately, he is now friends with everyone in the class and he won't stop talking to them.  The teacher has rearranged the seating chart repeatedly and no matter who he sits by, he talks to them.  Luckily, his teacher didn't sound exhausted by him (like last year) and she said talking and not controlling his impulses is the worst of his infractions.

Her solution really endeared me to her even more than I already am.  She is going to talk to him about being the "class leader" and if he can work quietly without talking to anyone, she will let him take something to the office, organize something in the classroom, or let him "take a walk to run some sort of random errand around the school."  The awesome thing about that is I suggested this very solution in the letter I wrote her at the beginning of the year.  Either she's super smart, she remembered my suggestion from reading it 5 months ago, or she re-read my letter before she called me today.  Whichever one, I'm impressed. Buddy needs a responsibility yet it's hard to give him one because he isn't the type of kid you'd naturally pick out of the classroom as the "most responsible."  But giving him a job works.  I can't wait to hear how it goes.

In other news, Buddy had to write three essays this afternoon after school.  One was concerning the "family sleeping rules" because he got out of bed way too early this morning.  One concerning why spitting is disgusting because he and his brother had a "spitting war" for fun in the car while I was at the atm today (they were out of my sight for 90 seconds).  The car smelled like saliva when I got back in and their guilty faces totally gave it away.  The third essay was concerning his behavior at school and ideas he has for being a good leader rather than frustrating his teacher.

The spitting essay was the funniest, and last time I posted one of his essays I got some feedback to make this a regular feature on the blog.

(BTW-this essay idea I had = brilliant.  He has a large notebook almost full of essays he's written.  And each one is hilarious.  His ideas are always really clever and his writing mechanics are getting really good.)

"I have one essay to write and it will not be fun!  So let's get started okay?  I should not spit... Because it is gross and it is gross because it can make people sick and because it has germs and it comes from your mouth.  And because you can die from it if you don't cure your sickness.  And I am sorry that I spitted.  And that I did not have integrity. And I mean it like a ton of times.  And I am sorry for Sambo too... a lot.  And I hope Sambo is sorry for me too and I am a lot more than he is, if he is sorry.  Can you ask him?  Please?  That's okay if you don't.  I don't really need to know."