A Perceived Need for Change: A Test of Individual Emotions and Contextual Influences

Right at this very moment, Greg is defending his thesis.  He's more than ready, so it's a mere technicality at this point.  But still worth celebrating.

Hooray for Greg!

Washing machine

I caught David chewing on the collar of his shirt.  When I asked him to stop chewing on his shirt, he responded, "But I'm washing it with my mouth."

Maybe I should let him do all his own laundry.

A day of tears--and they're not of joy

I like snow.  It makes the world temporarily more clean, beautiful, and peaceful.  But I have to admit that we do not do well around here when burdened with weather-related cancellations.  

This is day number two.  No preschool, no swimming lessons, no playroom at the YMCA, no library.  David was crying this morning, tears streaming down his cheeks because he needs to go to school. (I couldn't have agreed more!  I've been cryin' too.)

This afternoon David stubbed his toe.  Ouch!  He was crying and insisted on going to the doctor.  I told him I thought his boo-boo would get better in a few minutes.  He demanded to show his boo-boo to the doctor.  I told him if it still hurt after quiet time that maybe I would take him to the doctor.  Twenty minutes later he started bawling, "My boo-boo!  My boo-boo!"  Thinking maybe he had really injured his toe after all, I rushed to his side.  He cried, "Mommy!  My boo-boo doesn't hurt no more! Why doesn't my boo-boo hurt?"  I told him we should be happy that his toe is all better.  "But I want to go to the doctor!"  That is one b-o-r-e-d kid.  He knows his only chance for escape is the doctor's office.  

We're leaving the house this afternoon, no matter what.  This is not a family of homebodies.  (There's a reason I drive a Subaru.)

Also, David isn't the only one crying today.  Greg was supposed to defend his thesis this afternoon.  He's ready!  But the base/campus is shut down.  Bummer.  

What's not to love?

That's a rhetorical question.

A crew of three

A nice gentleman came to my door this afternoon and asked if I would like him to clean the driveway.  I politely declined his offer.  I have plenty of help in that area already:

(I have to make a comment about the purple pacifier.  This morning all 47 of her binkies had disappeared.  So I had to scrounge around deep in my random-baby-crap drawer and hope I could find an old rejected one.  I found a purple Nuk for newborns.  Fortunately, it suited Mary's purposes, and mine.  But it's odd to see her with it.)

I am a giant Kleenex

Mary doesn't like the feel of the dual snot rivers on her upper lip.  So she is quick wipe herself clean...on me.  (Now you know what the crusties on my pant legs are.)

Yesterday I noticed that David had a large smearing of snot on the back of his sweatshirt.  Mary must have gotten to him while he was playing on the floor.  At least I'm not the only Kleenex around here.

Yesterday: Before the snow melts today

The grammar myth monster rears its ugly head in the form of Chief Justice Roberts?

Is it really possible that Chief Justice Roberts bungled the oath of office on Tuesday because he couldn't bring himself to split an infinitive?!  Maybe.

Either way, I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that I will happily split infinitives on my blog.  

And as for the do-not-end-a-sentence-with-a-preposition "rule"?  The ending of sentences with prepositions will continue on.

In case you haven't noticed, this blog is written in English, not Latin.

Not that there is anything wrong with occasionally rewriting a sentence so that it does not end in a preposition.  It's a silly little game from which one can gain a small measure of satisfaction.

(P.S.  If you're still convinced that the writers of the Constitution got it wrong with their split infinitive, and Chief Justice Roberts's "inner copy editor" was right, read here.)

Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!

Right now Mary's favorite book is Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!  

When the pigeon asks Mary (the reader), "Hey, can I drive the bus?"  she responds every time with a decisive nod "Yes!"  

I think Mary must really relate when the pigeon whines, "I never get to do anything!"

It's hard being a pigeon.

It's hard being fifteen months old.

For those of you who haven't read the book, the pigeon doesn't get to drive the bus.

Hooray for Mary

...and for the rest of us too (I hope)!

I refer you to this post.

Even better, Mary got to eat M&Ms during the inauguration (so she would stop crying).  If you are crying today because of the inauguration (from joy or sadness or the unfulfilled desire to pound on the computer keyboard), may I suggest eating a few M&Ms.  It worked for Mary.

Life after Sunbeams

David told me today,

"Mommy, after I'm a Sunbeam, I'll be all grown up!"

Not quite...

Playmates?

This is the first time David and Mary played together:

David really enjoyed pushing Mary around the hospital.  I think Mary was asleep.  They were both happy, and that's what matters, right?

Since then, I like to pretend that they have played together on a regular basis.  But their "playing" has consisted primarily of wrestling (a lot of wrestling!) and snatching toys from each another.  Sure, David has played a little peek-a-boo and hide-n-seek (like this day) with Mary, he'll generally tolerate her presence in his play (like this), and he can be quick to help care for her (like this).  But it's not like they really, truly play together.

Yet.

I am beginning to have hope that they will be consistent playmates.  The day may not be too far off.  Maybe even less than a year.  For one thing, Mary knows how to push Thomas along the track, drive a Matchbox car, and fly a toy airplane through the sky--all essential skills.  Additionally, David has begun to communicate with Mary more as a playmate/peer than as a baby.  Sometimes he even has rather lengthy conversations with her (though they're more like monologues).  Like last night, they were in the bath together, and their "conversation" went like this:

DAVID:  Mary, do you want to play dress up?  Let's play dress up, Mary.  I'll wear this washcloth.  You're the boy, Mary.  I'm the mommy.  Mary Boy!  Mary Boy!  Time for bed.  Time to get ready for bed, Mary Boy.  Ready?  One...two...three...time for bed, Mary Boy!

Meanwhile, Mary sat there in the bubbles, with her toothbrush in her mouth, staring blankly at her brother...Okay, so we still have a ways to go...

But they were both happy, and that's what matters, right?

Good-bye and good riddance

It's almost January 20.  Some people will be attending balls.  

To celebrate the inauguration, Greg and I watched that Frontline on Dick Cheney.

Phew.  Did I mention it's almost January 20?  

-12

That's how cold it was when David and I went to the Y this morning.  I could feel the snot in my nose starting to freeze.  Now I understand why there was nobody on the roads.  Smart people don't go out when it's twelve below and there's a wind chill warning in effect.  (Don't worry: In addition to his winter coat, David had on a hat and gloves.  He was happy to wear them.)

Despite the fact that there is a lovely snow-covered hill in our backyard, David and Mary (who are smart) decided the best use for the snow tube was for sitting on together, wrapped in blankets, watching Sesame Street.  Additionally, it made a great boat for David, and, for Mary, a good place to wear her brother's mittens.  Yes, my children are smart.  

And me?  I'm not so smart.  I have an errand to run this afternoon, and I fully intend to go, with kids in tow, albeit with lots of winter gear.  

But I will add, negative twelve degrees has the effect of making one profoundly, humbly grateful to God for something as simple, or not so simple, as shelter.
  

Lobster kisses

We always have to make a stop at the lobster tank whenever we go the grocery store.  David likes to observe the lobsters and discuss what they're doing.  ("Hanging out.")  He also insists on kissing them good-bye.  It's a little weird, I admit, so I avoid encouraging it.  I do, however,  suggest that he blow the kisses.  But today he planted a big wet one, right on the glass, through which two little beady lobster eyes were staring right at him. 

Anyway, if David ever wants to kiss you good-bye, don't feel too flattered.

A picture for item #2 from my last post

(Mary was happy about wearing the ball; she was mad because she wanted the camera.)

3 more

Three more of Mary's must-have accessories:

1. David's necktie
2. a ball (she likes to wear it under her shirt)
3. lip gloss

SportsMonday

I stuck Mary with the sports section today.  

Roku

With his birthday money, Greg decided to treat our whole family with the purchase of a Roku Netflix Player, which allows us to watch the movies and shows in our Netflix instant queue on our T.V.  It's great.  We love it.  

Mary and Greg have been watching a lot of Knight Rider lately.  This has reminded me that I spent much of my childhood married to Michael Knight.  And also to Luke Skywalker.

Before my friend Tara and I would play house, there were two matters that had to be settled.  First, who would be "Sally" and who would be "Suzy."  Sally was definitely the better name.  I was always stuck being Suzy.  Next, we had to decided to whom we were married.  It was always between the Knight Rider and Luke Skywalker.  They were both equally desirable, so we traded off between the two husbands evenly.  

Years later, like more than a decade later, when I watched the Star Wars Trilogy again, I was shocked to see what a wuss Luke Skywalker is.  I spent half my childhood married to that crybaby?  (Really, he whines almost as much as Mary.)  I guess you have to be more than seven years old to appreciate Harrison Ford/Han Solo.  

Anyway, I guess being Suzy wasn't so bad.  But I really should have insisted on Michael Knight every time.  Then KITT could have been the family car.  In fact, I think I could use KITT right now.  What a great babysitter.

Model student

I have to hurry and write about this, while it's still true:

David has been a model student lately--at church, in swimming lessons, during speech therapy, and even at preschool.  He has finally discovered the concept of "listening to your teacher."  And he's very good at it.  Way to go, David!

Fast learner

Mary has learned from us (Greg, David, and/or me):

1. to enjoy a bowl of granola with The New York Times (she and I fought over the front page this morning)
   
2. that you eat bananas with the peel still attached at the bottom (otherwise it's no longer a banana)
3. how to apply hand sanitizer and lotion
4. that it is sometimes helpful to tattle on your sibling
5. to enjoy her beverage (water) from a 32 oz. fountain drink cup
6. that civilized people use bowls, plates, utensils, and napkins when they eat (they do not eat food slopped directly on the high chair tray)
7. to blow her nose (if only every one-year-old could learn this!)
8. how to guide train engines on tracks, through tunnels, and over bridges

However, the wearing of a pink tutu with a firefighter hat and a gardening glove is something she did not learn from us.

Finally, a little snow

Whereas most of the country (including Las Vegas, for crying out loud!) has been bombarded with snowstorms, here in Ohio we are in some kind of no-snow winter vortex--everything bad about winter (cold, ice, freezing rain, school cancellations, dangerous roads, gray skies) and none of the good (snow).  Until yesterday!  We finally got a little snow.  

When David saw the snow, he announced, "It's Christmas Eve!  Hooray!"  Poor kid.  (But, really, Ohio, you doom us all to seasonal affect disorder with your gloomy, gray winters, and you couldn't even give us a dusting of snow on Christmas?)

What else could we do but spend half an hour pushing, pulling, and zipping everyone into their winter gear?

David and Mary making tracks:

David was excited to try out his new boots, but he refused to wear mittens.  Conversely, Mary stills lacks snow boots (but luckily likes to wear 5 pairs of socks), yet was eager to put on her mittens.  She finally had a real reason to wear them.  Although she found playing T-ball with mittens to be rather frustrating.
Everyone was happy for three minutes.  

Then Mary fell flat on her face in the snow. 
And then so did David.  This time (unlike last time) he used his hands to get up.  He told me he should have worn his mittens.  Actually, he bawled to me that he should have worn his mittens.
So after exactly four minutes of playing in the snow, we all came inside, covered with slush and snot.  (There was a lot of snot.)  Maybe next time we will last five minutes.

Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam

No more nursery for David.  He's a Sunbeam now!  And proud of it.

COSI

This morning we went to the COSI.  It was amazing!  The best museum for kids we've visited yet.   It was also nice that we got in dirt cheap, thanks to our Boonshoft membership and Greg's active duty military status.

We were reminded once again of how different our children are.  David wants to do everything all at once, so he flits from activity to activity in a frenzy of excitement.  Mary chooses one thing and purposefully focuses all of her attention and determination on that single activity.  

We all had a great time, no matter how we experience life.

Mary's new coat

I finally caved and bought Mary a real winter coat.  (There for a while I really thought she could survive the three and a half more months of winter without one.)

Does this coat say "I love you" or what?

Mary wasn't a big fan of the fur-trimmed hood.  As you can see, she's got enough of a mane--she doesn't need a faux one.
By the way, I think Mary is better at T-ball than her brother.

(P.S.  Diana, I think it was Audrey who inspired me.)

"By small and simple things"

Last Sunday was my final time teaching the most awesome Primary Sunday School class of all time:

This year we discussed such deep issues as

1. The exact location of heaven
2. Temple divorce
3. If we're supposed to love Satan, since Jesus told us to love everyone
4. What our spirits look like after we die
5. Miscarriages
6. If Satan or Jesus is stronger (Jesus!)
7. And whether or not the hanged man should have X's for eyes 

Besides the occasional doctrinal digression or game of hangman, we did stick to the lesson manual.  The lessons in it are great.  Here are some titles:

"Remember to Say 'Thank You'"

"Always Tell the Truth"

"I Can Be Kind"

"I Can Forgive Others"

"I Will Obey the Law"

"Choosing the Right Gives Me a Happy Feeling"

and

"I Can Help Others Be Happy by Sharing"

It seems at first a list of simplistic, warm-fuzzy topics.  But these are the teachings of Jesus Christ Himself.  The lessons all draw directly from the Savior's teachings in the New Testament.  Think of the simple, most basic things that Christ taught (like "love one another") and place it in the context of the world today.  What a different place it would be if people did what these seven-year-olds are taught to do.  That's some powerful stuff.

I think, for me, the best lesson was "Prayers Are Answered in the Best Way."  The key is in the best way.  Often it can seem that God is not hearing our prayers because He does not seem to answer them.  That's because at times the best answer God can give is no answer.  No, in class we did not specifically discuss how God will not take away another's free will so things can play out according to our desires, even if they're good desires, or how the hardships from which we pray for relief can be for our benefit, shaping us into what God desires we be.  Our discussion centered primarily on why God probably wouldn't answer a prayer for a million candy bars.  (They would make you sick!)  But the concept is the same:  God always hears our prayers.  And He always answers them.  And He always answers them in the best way.  So sometimes the answer is no answer.  

My sweet seven-year-olds are moving up in Primary, and this coming year they will finish preparing to be baptized.  

I will miss thoughtful deep-thinking S, the ever-talented and bright Alexis, sweet K's heart of gold, and watching super cool Sh mature and become even more super cool.

I won't be teaching anymore.  Instead, I've been given, among other things, the responsibility of ringing the bell between classes.  This responsibility weighs heavily upon me, especially since my life is lived "plus or minus ten minutes."  I gave up watch-wearing the last month of my mission, and I've never gone back.  (Time doesn't matter in Higuey.  As long as there's enough of it for a chimi, right, Leah?)  Fortunately, my aunt recently sent me a Hello Kitty watch.  Some things truly are inspired.

Internet giveaway

I am giving away a whiny one-year-old and a three-year-old who is incapable under any circumstances of sleeping past five in the morning.

I will also throw in the dirty laundry, the pee on the bathroom floor, and some really sticky dining room chairs.  Just because I'm nice like that.

Let me know if you're interested.

Predictions

Last year when we packed up the stockings, I jotted down a list of predictions, stuffed the list in my stocking, and forgot about it.  Until we unpacked the stockings a month ago.  Want to read it?

January 14, 2008

I predict that at the end of 2008...

1. Greg will be finishing up his thesis...and he will not have traveled any to do it.  (Greg is indeed finishing up his thesis, but he did have to make one trip to St. Louis.)
2. We will have no idea where we'll PCS.  ("PCS" is military lingo for "move."  And I was right!  I should point out that had all gone according to plan, we should have found out several months ago where we would be moving.  But I knew better than to assume all things would go according to plan, hence my pessimistic prediction.)
3. My parents (and Greg's) will still be in Texas.  (Right again.  Thank you, economic downturn.  Would anybody retire in these conditions?)
4. Mary will still have quite a bit of hair.  (Um, yes.)
5. David will love preschool and be understandable.  (Almost right.  David likes preschool, but I wouldn't say he loves it.  I was right about his being understandable--I love that we can have real conversations now!)
6. David will be a good swimmer.  (Wrong!  He loves the water, but he can't swim.  We were sure he would learn in 2008 with year-round swimming lessons.  But we ended up taking him out for an entire year.  His skill level was too high for the parent-child class, but he wasn't ready for group lessons.  Resisting the urge to splash other children while you wait for your turn was just too much to ask.  And he doesn't take instruction too well from his parents.  But this is a new year.  And he's signed up to start again on Tuesday.)
7. Greg and I will have seen one movie in the theater.  (Wrong!  We have not seen one movie together this year.  And I thought I was being pessimistic in my prediction.)
8. Mary will be getting into stuff like crazy.  (The canned goods, the utensils, the pots, the trash, the laundry, the sock drawers, the towels . . . )

In a lot of ways 2008 was a crummy year.  The collapse of the economy and potty training in the same year.  It doesn't get much worse.  But I will miss 2008.

For one thing, I like the way it looks.  The two zeros in the middle, and then the eight at the end looks like two zeros stacked on top of each other.  Which also happens to look nice with the big O in Obama.  (It wasn't an entirely bad year.)  I don't like the way 2009 looks.  But I am prejudiced against the number 9.  

I will also miss the David & Mary of 2008.  I know there is a lot more David & Mary to come.  But this was their first full year together.  (Our first full year together.)  It was like a tsunami, a roller coaster, and a delicate truffle all at once.  Oh, those two . . . the smiles and the frustration.  Pictures to come.

By our standards, 2008 was a very stable year.  It was nice to live in the same place all year.  It was also surprisingly nice not to cross the Atlantic even once.  Also, Greg was only gone two days out of the entire year!  2009 will undoubtedly bring some big changes we didn't have deal with in 2008.  I know we will look back fondly on the past year.

By the way, if you're wondering about my predictions for the end of 2009, they are classified!