The House Is Packed Up

Grant has been at our friends' house for nearly a week straight. When he got home tonight, he took a tour of the house. When he reached his room, he said, "What happened to my room? Where is my bed? Hey, where is the toy box? And where is Scotty's crib?"

Almost Unnoticed

Scotty has a first word, and amongst mounds of moving boxes, it almost didn't receive a blog mention.

He needed a toy, so I handed him my old cell phone. He couldn't believe his luck! He flipped it open, put it to his hear and very clearly said, "Hi." Twenty times. He always has been such a social boy.

Did You Hear?

They found a cure for the swine flu! It's oink-ment.

(There's plenty more where that came from!)

I Found An Anonymous Poem

One thing that's hard about packing is that I keep finding things to look at that haven't been looked at in a long time. For example, I picked up one of the binders that houses half of the letters that Clint and I wrote to each other during Clint's mission. We both wrote every week, so there are a lot of letters (and an occasional poem ... keep reading)!

Anyway, I don't know which one of us sent this poem to the other (it was just posted on a page), but I liked reading it today, so I'm sharing it with you. It has no posted author and no listed title. I'm going to entitle it "Anyway."

Anyway
People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may be never enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

*Post-Script: The poem was written by Mother Teresa, and is not entitled "Anyway," but instead "The Final Analysis." I think the reputation of the author makes the poem even more poignant.

Good Finds: A New Spin on the Old Story

I really like the version of the three little pigs as told by Jon Scieszka in The True Story of the Three Little Pigs by A. Wolf.

But this is the first version of the pigs that I've read where the pigs are the villains, and the wolf is, well, let it suffice to say that the wolf is in a non-traditional role. And every time I turned the page, I expected to find that the author, who is very nice, as indicated on the cover of the book, to have deceived my trust in the wolf.

Gluttonous, lazy, and mohawk-sporting pigs make it easy to cheer for the true hero of the story!

Putting It Back and Taking It Out

Scotty has a knack for cluttering up spaces. You know, the kind of clutter where you take a box full of markers and throw them around the room. Or you empty the dishwasher as fast as you can before Mom chases you out of the kitchen. Or you unravel 12 feet of plastic wrap and roll yourself in it. Or you grab a bowl full of quarters and dump them out in a trail behind you as you make your triumphal exit. Or my personal favorite, where you clear your armoire of all folded clothes in five seconds flat. That kind of clutter.

It was getting a little ridiculous around here, so I decided to teach Scott some responsibility. Together we cleaned up the toys in his room, and put them all back in the toy box. Scotty really seemed to enjoy the activity, and he has since picked up after himself a few times. So I wasn't surprised today when I trimmed Scotty's fingernails and he tried to put one of the clippings back on his finger.

Oh, one more story about Scotty, which is only related to the above story in that they both feature the same main character. A few days ago, Grant was on his changing table so I could remove his night-time diaper (don't ask), and Scotty was in the room with us. Grant was making a big fuss about it all, and somewhere during the course of our conversation, I told Grant his diaper was yucky. Next thing I knew, Scotty was making the noise for yucky (I can't spell that) and handing me a diaper. What a little smartypants. And tornado.

Grant's Nap Day Monologue

Grant rarely takes naps anymore. But when he does happen to crash during the day, it's usually later in the afternoon, and he sleeps for a long time. Sometimes this creates a bedtime problem. Yesterday, Grant came up with a solution to the problem.

"No I want the sun to go up, down, up, down. I want the sun to stop. I want the sun to stay up. No more up, down, up, down. No. I can't do that. No."

Treehouses

Nicole has a history of building treehouses, which are stocked with the latest coloring supplies, favorite toys, glass jars full of money, stuffed animals, and all sorts of other precious belongings. When we first moved into this house in Spokane, the under-the-stairs storage was designated as treehouse space. It was perfect. No one could see it (unless they were invited in), and the door (which hadn't existed in wooden form until this point) could shut tight to keep any intruders out.

Clint helped the kids reconstruct a treehouse in the living room (of all places) the other day.
About three and half seconds after Scotty woke up from his nap and discovered this wonderful play-space, a new rule was established.
Poor little Scotty. Banished. It's hard to be the youngest (ask me, I know). But tough as it is, Scotty's no quitter. He went and found his own treehouse.Room for just one.

Baby Fingers

Good Finds: I Like Wolf Stories

The first time I checked out There's a Wolf at the Door by the Alley family, I skimmed through it and dismissed it as a no-go. It takes five famous wolf stories, and adds a touch of cheekiness. "Too cheeky," I thought.

I took it back to the library on our next visit. A couple of months later, Clint took the kids to the library, and came home with the same darn book. "Great, now I actually have to read it," I said to myself.

Come to find out, I'm a fan of cheekiness. I think kids like the comic-style cartoons and the extra large format of the book. I like how each of the five stories stars the same bad wolf.

Very clever transitions from story to story, and some fun, unanticipated twists.

Mother's Day Photos

Take Me to the Temple ... in Spokane

Not the Dentist of My Childhood

Taking kids to the dentist these days is akin to paying $200 to go to the county fair.

I remember the dentist's office real well. Let's see, he gave me a shot with the biggest needle I'd ever seen and pulled out my front teeth. He yelled at me to hold still, and he made my gums bleed. There wasn't anything resembling a clown, an entertaining show to watch, or a stuffed animal to hold. And there certainly weren't any games or tangible prizes for rewards.

Nicole and Grant picked out fancy new toothbrushes, toys, balloons, and got their picture taken. Grant had so much fun that he asked to go back about an hour after returning home.

I'm not jealous or anything.

What Manner of Boy Are You?

Grant was eager to eat an apple, so I sliced one up and the following conversation ensued.

Mom: "Grant are you an apple boy?"
Grant: "No."
Mom: "Are you a handsome boy?"
Grant: "No."
Mom: "What kind of boy are you?"
Grant: "I'm a milk boy, Mom!"

It's Teacher Appreciation Week

My Apology

For mother's day, I wanted to give my mom an updated picture of the kids for her grandkid wall. Since our first attempt failed, we did retakes:
(Come on, Grant. Is it really that bad?)

Oh, and there's this one. Grant had given up by this time.
Did I mention Scotty gave up, too?

I was starting to think Scotty would never smile for the camera again when I captured this:
(Hooray, there is still hope in the world.)

Since we still didn't have a satisfactory group shot, we did retakes again. (By the way, what do you call retakes for the third time? No obscenities, please.) That's when we ended up with this:

I'm so sorry, Mom. I really, really did try!