Babysitters

Last week I found and hired a babysitter for the first time in my life.

Because my sister watches the boys when I work, and my mom fills in sometimes when Katy isn't available, I pretty much always feel tapped out when it comes to babysitters.

I have a few mom friends in the ward that I could call in a pinch, but in the evening at bedtime? I decided to bite the bullet and hire a real live babysitter.

I picked up Heidi and she was sweet and kind and awesome. The boys liked her and Josh said that everything was great when he got home. She told me she really likes babysitting (but does that mean it's true?) and she was excited I called.

But I gotta know - how much do you pay a babysitter in 2013? She didn't know (I wouldn't have given a price at 15 years old either) and just said "whatever people pay". So I'm curious - what's normal? I have a 3 year old and a 1 year old. Who never do anything wrong. (Except when Tommy pooped on the bathroom scale because it was the middle of the night and he was still half asleep and he thought he just had to pee - so he was standing. Also except when Little John climbs into the full-of-water bathtub fully clothed. Also except when they both want the same toy.... Whatever, they're perfect and wonderful and they both love Blue's Clues. Babysitter's dream.)

I'm calling the whole thing wildly successful - and hoping we get to do it again for something more fun than just an hour and a half between when my meeting starts and Josh get home from work.

Currently accepting really great ideas. Except sky diving. That will not be considered on account of I'm a chicken.

Stand Ins

I sortof thought I was tapped out on incredible mother-figures in my life. I've had more than my fair share and I've written about many (though not all) of them before.

Besides already having a plethora of awesome women who help me be a grown-up, I sortof thought I was a grownup, and therefore done with needing so many moms all the time. [laugh track]

But moving into a ward full of people who are not only wiser, but also older than me has me back in that same gratitude position.

When we moved into the ward Brother Miles introduced himself and asked why he didn't know us. I told him we were new in the ward and Sister Miles apologized for her husband's demanding nature. Turns out Brother Miles used to be the Bishop and had good reason to know everybody. Since that moment I've silently admired Sister Miles from afar.

Today after paying me a tremendous complement Sister Miles and I sat next to each other during Relief Society. She oozes goodness. Really. Goodness and its related happiness.

When it came time to sing the closing song I started singing - an attempt at the alto part.

You should know - I don't sing. I don't have the ear for alto or the range for soprano. And though I'm not completely tone deaf, it's not typically a pretty thing. Unless I'm sitting next to a strong singer. Then I can follow just fine....I think. Oh my gosh, what if I can't even follow and I've totally thought I could my whole life? Yeesh.

I didn't know it but Sister Miles has a beautiful voice. As she started to sing with me my own voice got stronger. She lead me comfortably in the alto line and we sang together beautifully. Unless I'm even more tone deaf than I thought - then it was awful and she should have been singing louder to drown me out.

My own mom does the same thing for me. I don't often get to sit next to her and sing (because I don't sing. and she does.) but when I do she leads me comfortably where I ought to be making me sound better than I should and showing me the right way to do it.

But she does it in real life (not singing life) too. She just stands near me being good. Following the "music" and sounding just right making it possible for even my fumbling self to hit the right note on occasion.

As I listened to Sister Miles' beautiful voice I thought of all the times I've heard my mom sing. Lullabies  campfires and ward choir. Her voice is a sound I simply love and I can't imagine a day when it will be just a memory. I wonder if she knows how much I love to sing next to her. I wonder if she knows how her voice strengthens mine. I wonder if she knows how much I admire her, and how glad I am to have a mom I like to follow.

I hope so. But just in case, I'll be sure to tell her today.

On Being A Mother

This year Josh is working all of Mother's Day weekend. Saturday, Sunday & Monday he's gone for 14 hours each day.

Which gives me a different (for me) perspective on Mother's Day this year.

Rather than wishing I was being pampered and having a break from all of the hard things about being a mother, [insert list of activities revolving around foods, bodily fluids, chores, breaking stuff and crying here]

Instead I get to enjoy all of my favorite things about being a mother. With my kids.
Yes I'm still cooking and cleaning and wiping tears this weekend.

But mostly, I'm:

• snuggling
• sharing ice cream
• teaching my boys about watering the flowers
• showing them the beauty of the mountains
• reading stories
• taking my tiny men to a man store (Home Depot)
• singing songs
• kissing. slobbery and right on the lips. (or in John's case, teeth)
• snoozing in the afternoon
• running barefoot in the grass (but only until the pokeys come out)
• letting them believe that mac 'n cheese is gourmet food
• going for walks
• digging in the dirt
• playing hopscotch (because Tommy saw it on Blue's Clues)
• watching them be SO grown up in church (and being called out for crying about it) 
• having a dance party
• learning with them how to play games on my phone
• and really REALLY enjoying that they're both old enough and young enough to give me really good bear hugs

There are a million reasons I need a break every now and then. And 2 million more reasons I'd never give it up. Not even if it meant I never had to do dishes or laundry again.

Dinosaur Hair

John lets me do his hair pretty much anytime I want. He thinks it's part of brushing his teeth.

I boost both boys up on the counter, one on each side of the sink, we sing the toothbrushing song and giggle while we practice spitting in the sink. Then while they're both distracted by looking in the mirror and too high to get away, I do John's hair.

But if I so much as LOOK at Tommy with a comb or spray bottle in my hand....it's meltdown city.

After a few days of watching me do John's in the fauxhawk I was blessed with brilliance. I asked Tommy if he wanted "dinosaur hair" like Little John. He said yes and has been letting me do it ever since. He thinks it's cool to be a dinosaur.

These boys share a special kind of love. They love to be together and they are each other's favorites. At everything. Always.

After our morning walk Tommy sat on the hill in our front yard and stared at the ground while I chased John trying to keep him out of the neighbors' driveway and out of the road. Once I had Little John properly corralled I sat down to talk with Tommy. He told me he was feeling sad because Little John wasn't standing by him.

Little John heard his name and immediately came to join us on the lawn. Tommy was overjoyed and Little John couldn't be happier to have all the attention.

Roosters and Rocks

We (wisely) fell in the love with the trail by our house. Especially Little John. And Tommy. And Little John a couple more times.

When we go to the garage he climbs into the stroller and tries to buckle himself in because he wants to go for a walk. On the trail. Then he whimpers and cries the most sad and pathetic cry when I tell him we're getting in the car instead. Poor boy. All his dreams are shattered. 

Today as we walked (on the trail, in the stroller - as things should be) we passed the horses and got so lucky we heard the rooster crow. 

Again and again and again. 

Tommy would "cock-a-doodle-doo" and so would the rooster. Again and again. Meanwhile Little John laughed and laughed.

As we played "I Spy" on the way home Tommy found this gem.

After a few wrong guesses of "something that is white" he caved in and told me "it's a willy big huge-o-mondo white circle fing!" And THEN I guessed it.

When we got closer both boys went a little nuts and Tommy adequately expressed their excitement for both of them. "Look at all these million rocks just for meee!!!"

So we did.

And we listened to our voices echo. 

And we stretched up high to see how tall we were. 

It might have been the best trail-day yet.

Have I mentioned yet that I love living this close to the trail? Because I do. I really really do.

Good mornings

In the morning when Tommy wakes up before John (not often, but often enough for it not to be odd) he goes to the bathroom, then shouts for my help, then insists that we get back into my bed "for good mornin' snuggles so you can ask me about my snoozin' please."

I suppose that started before he could really talk. I'd go into his bedroom, open the blinds, say (with him) "oh my goodness, there's a day out there!" then ask him "how was your snoozin' in the nighttime?"

Eventually when he could talk he'd say "mmmm good."

Then when he wouldn't stay in his bed he'd say "good. in my bed. all night long."

Then when he was potty training he'd say "good. No peein' in my bed." (only when it's true...)

Now he says "good. Can I see your phone to see if it's morning or night?" My phone has an adapting background - when the sun goes down outside it shows stars and the moon. When it's raining there are raindrops. And somehow Tommy learned that if it shows the sun it's morning. Otherwise it's night.

There aren't many things I love as much as these good mornin' snuggles with him.

We Walk

When we started looking for somewhere to live here in Utah County Josh said "let's live by a trail like we do now" and I laughed at him and told him there was no such trail in Utah County.

Then we found this house to rent.

Then I discovered that there IS such a trail here. A brand new trail. Technically it isn't even open yet. It's almost twice as far to get to it as it was in our old house - which means like 20 steps instead of 10. Life is full of hardships you know.

So we walk.

Sometimes we haul Tommy's tricycle (which is far too small for him - his knees hit the handlbars and his feet fly around in tiny circles so fast I'm afraid he'll go flying) and he rides while we walk.
Sometimes we let Little John get out of the stroller and walk crouch by the side of the trail and throw rocks.
Sometimes we head North - toward the barn - which makes the boys scream because they wanna "touch a horsie's nose like grandma".
Sometimes we head South and drive the backyard animals a little crazy.
Sometimes we hold hands.
Sometimes we carry rocks.
Sometimes we take pictures of the end of the Earth - because we can see it from way up there.
Sometimes we shiver because it's cold and windy.
Sometimes we measure - often we just wander.

Always (almost) we love it.

Any Extra Stress?

When I went to the Dr. on Saturday to see if I really had shingles (I do.) the first thing she said was "what's the extra stress about?"

I tried hard not to laugh at her. Because that would have been rude. Instead I told her it was just the regular. Which is (unfortunately) true. I'm a bit of a stress-case. Always.

That's why it's so awesome that I'm not at all worried that the house that we're renting (here in PG) is being foreclosed. Trustee sale in 2 weeks.

So depending on who buys it, we may be looking for a new place soon.

Legally they have to let us live here for 90 days after the sale, so I'm confident we'll be here at least through July. But I'm really not sure after that.

The good news is (1) not my credit score (2) not my property (3) not my fault.

Pray that whoever buys this place wants to rent it to us for even less than we're currently paying? (ha!)

Little John is at an age when everything is new and exciting and fun. (And occasionally frustrating.) He loves playing with things, he giggles and he thinks his brother is the coolest thing since sliced bread. Except he doesn't like bread - so...cooler even than that. 

He has recently become a mama's boy. He weeps when I leave him to go to work and he whines when I put him down to make dinner. He wants to be involved in everything and he is into everything. 

He seems to be a bit braver than his brother, already climbing to the top of the stepladder and wondering why it doesn't go higher. He giggles when he jumps and loves to swing more than anything. He's a little bit fearless. 

And every now and then I get this glimpse of him as a tiny human being instead of a baby. 

Like when we go to the river to throw rocks. He needs somebody to hold his hand (remember?...fearless.) but he is otherwise just like a real live person.

The other day we went out to lunch at a new place just after haircuts, and with the fancy faux hawk and the eating of the chips and salsa, I just couldn't get past his personhood.

And don't even get my started on the park. 

John is so happy most of the time it's hard not to love him. Not that I've tried. 

Because that would be useless.

Date A Week = Failure

On April 11th I looked at my google calendar (which is the home of my goals - and my life) for the first time that month.

To say the month got away would be an enormously embarrassing understatement.

BUT I once I looked at it, gasped in horror and confessed to Josh I did make a much more conscious effort.

We didn't even get out to do our official Date of the Month date, but we did spend much more time together. We watched a lot of Pscyh, we played games after the kids were in bed, and we folded laundry together instead of separately.

So while we really didn't "go on dates" much this month, we certainly spent more time together than we would have otherwise (at least between the 11th and the 30th).

I'm still calling it a failure - maybe I can try again next year. Because this was one of the goals I was most excited about. Wouldda been fun.

growing up

Something has been happening for the last few weeks. My babies have been growing at an alarming rate.

Last Sunday we became one step closer to Tommy sleeping under the bench in Sacrament meeting.

Don't get me wrong, he doesn't believe in sleeping during church, he believes in snacks and coloring and reading The Friend. But he got all kinds of big when he came home with a reminder note that he'd be saying the opening prayer in primary.

We practiced the day before in the primary room while we were cleaning the church. We talked about where he'd be sitting and stood up at the pulpit and he. was. stoked. 

That morning while we walked to church we talked and talked about it and he couldn't wait. He even showed me how he'd be so reverent before we went inside.

And when the big day came Tommy did great. He folded his arms when he sat in the chair at the front, and though I'm fairly certain I'm the only person who knows what he said (because he was so quiet) it was one of the great joys of my life to help him do something so scary and seeing him be so brave.

In other news we had a friend over for almost 3 whole minutes and during that time Maxwell taught Tommy how to climb a tree. (Awesome! Our backyard is now 10 times cooler than it was.) 

He's just so big! And he's not even the one who changes every dang day. 

Sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am to have such incredible boys to call my own.

Qualified

On Josh's first day as a nurse one of the existing nurses got squeemish about doing a shot and asked Josh if he could do it. He stepped right up to the plate and with all the confidence in the world stabbed some patient with a needle full of something.

He told me how weird it was to think that he was qualified to go around giving people advice and stabbing people with needles.

I readily agreed. Because I'm not quite sure when this

turned to this

But there I was showing him a suspicious rash last night and he immediately said "shingles. that looks exactly like shingles." And what do you know, he was dead on.

And just like that I was converted - who knows, I might even let him stab me with a needle sometime....

Radio

I could never claim to be a news junkie. I'm interested, but only if it's convenient for me.

But then this week happened.

Suddenly I became aware of just how disconnected we currently are. No tv and exactly one radio in (the basement of) this house which never gets used. Typically it doesn't matter, because...duh. The internet.

But this week I was glued to it. I streamed on my phone and plugged it into the speaker in the kitchen and listened. Intently.

Combine my addiction to the radio this week with the reading of Grandpa Godfrey's history and it's like I was transported back to 1910. Did they have radios in 1910? Josh laughed at me when I shushed him and allowed conversation only during commercial breaks. I stood in front of the radio with my mouth wide open (not unlike a codfish) as I listened in horror. Every step of the way.

And when there was nothing new to report I read. Outhouses and farm chores. Wringer washing machines, and education in one room school houses. 7 year old grandpa driving cattle "across town".

In stark contrast I also read facebook and checked instagram. Which I love. And all the technology just seemed so....unnatural. For the first time in my life.

Which is yet another sign that I am old.