Welcome Home!

Have you ever come home from vacation with a pit in your stomach because you knew that reality was waiting right inside your front doors? That's exactly what happened to me early this morning (12:15 a.m., to be exact)!

We have had one of the busiest summers ever, vacationing, visiting family, going to family reunions, traveling for business, etc., and as much as I've enjoyed all of the wonderful time we've spent together as a family, I was thankful school started today so that we could start a routine again. This past week Dan and I traveled to New York City for a little get-away to celebrate our 10th anniversary. We had a wonderful time together--sightseeing, riding the subway, shopping, seeing Broadway shows, and talking about the kids, of course. Then we came home.

Our plane was delayed for over an hour so we walked through our doors after midnight. I had given myself plenty of pep talks to prepare for the chaos and reality of real life again, but I've learned that no preparation is ever really adequate. I went in to steal a kiss from my boys and knew as soon as I opened the door to their bedroom that something was not right. It smelled horrible! I turned on the hall light to get a closer look and found my sweet little baby sound asleep in a puddle of throw-up. He was matted with it and so was his bedding. We had no choice but to wake him up and bath him. Dan plopped him in the tub while I stripped his bedding and threw it in the washer. The poor child didn't know what to think, especially when we looked at him in the light and noticed that one of his eyes was glued shut, thus requiring eye drops (I certainly would not respond well to this kind of treatment suddenly in the middle of the night).

I was pretty good-natured about it all, laughing to myself about the welcome we'd received. Then we went to the grocery store today and my laughter nearly turned into tears. It wasn't when my little guy screamed for the first ten minutes of our trip because he wanted to drive his own little shopping cart around like his older sister; it wasn't even when his shopping cart tipped over and the long metal pole announcing that he was a "shopper in training" happened to slice into a display of 12-pack cans of coke, splattering coke all over me, my groceries, and the grocery store (no, the coke didn't splatter--it gushed out like a geyser and started pooling on the grocery store floor. I was so covered in it that my flip-flops no longer flipped and flopped--they were literally stuck to my feet from the sticky coke syrup); I think it was when Boston tipped his cart over and dumped the contents out FIVE times after the coke episode that I began to lose my grip a little bit.

The phrase, "Welcome home" just kept repeating in my head. Our vacation had definitely come to a complete and abrupt end. Oh well, that's motherhood, and I still wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world!

Like Father, Like Son

I know this blog is primarily about motherhood, but I can't help but write a small posting about dads, as well. After all, they are pretty important in this job called parenting, too. I have often marveled at single mothers who are somehow making it on their own, being a full-time parent as well as the bread winner. I could not manage without the help of my husband, so my hat goes off to anyone who is doing this demanding, difficult, but delightful job of parenting alone. And here's to you dads!

My six year old is starting to really care about what he wears every day (I'm learning that happens to most kids at some point, girls even sooner--Hence, the book My Squishy Pants). I was trying to help Nate get dressed for church Sunday, but every time I suggested something he just shook his head no. He finally pulled out a long-sleeved white dress shirt and some navy blue slacks and told me he wanted to dress just like his dad. I tried to discourage him, telling him how hot he was going to be, but he was insistent, so I shrugged my shoulders and proceeded to help him pick out a sweater vest (yes, sweater), a belt and church shoes and socks. When he was dressed he marched into the bathroom and informed his dad that he expected him to wear the same thing.

My husband looked at me with big eyes and whispered that he'd rather not wear a sweater to church. I told him to go with it, and because he's a wonderful dad, he did. He called Nate into his closet and together they picked out each item he would wear that day, from the navy blue slacks and white, long-sleeved shirt, to the sweater vest, tie, brown belt, shoes and socks. I couldn't help but smile as I heard them conversing and watched them walk out of the closet together, a near perfect match (one sweater was grey, the other navy blue).

I thought of how wonderful it was that my son was trying to look and act like his dad--if only it could last until he's a teenager. I couldn't pick a better role model for him and was touched that, even though he's only six, he thinks his dad is a pretty cool guy and he wants to be like him. I was also filled with gratitude that my husband is the kind of guy I want my son to emulate. It made me realize that I want to be someone my girls would want to be like as well. You never know when these dear children are watching or what habits they are picking up on. My husband had no idea that Nate would notice how sharp he looked for church each week in his white shirt and tie , but Nate did notice and it affected him enough to want to copy it.

They say that the most powerful way to influence others is through example. As scary as that is for an imperfect mother, I know it's true, and I'm actually extremely grateful that I have the opportunity of influencing my children for good each day. After all, although I make tons of mistakes, no one loves them like their dad and I do. One day (probably all too soon) their friends will have a stronger influence, so I'd better soak it up while I can!

The funny part of this story is that we hadn't been to church for even five minutes when Nate looked over at me, and in misery said, "I'm sweating." He wanted to take his sweater off. I couldn't help but chuckle. I wonder what next week will bring.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

"Mom, Hallee gave me something and now she wants it back, and I told her 'no' because that's alien stealing, right Mom?"
"It's what?" I asked thinking I must have misheard him.
"Alien stealing--ya know, when someone gives you something and then wants it back."
"I think you mean 'Indian giving,'" I corrected him with a chuckle. We now remind the children regularly that "alien stealing" isn't nice!

I have to say that I get a kick out of my children's vocabulary on a regular basis. They have such an innocent, personal view of the world, one that hasn't been tainted quite yet, and I find they are truly a hoot! Here are a few more examples:

I was reading a church magazine with my three-year-old next to me. I was reading about Elder Uchtdorf's life and there were pictures of him on the page. She pointed to one of the pictures and said, "Who is that? John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt?" She was very serious. I couldn't help but giggle.

This same three-year-old (who happens to be the life of the party at our house because she thinks she's so grown up and she's very dramatic and hilarious) said to me recently as I prepared her for her first swim lesson. "I don't really need swim lessons, Mom. I already know how to drown. Do you want me to show you? I can teach Boston (our 19-month-old) how to drown, too, if you want, Mom. Do you want me to show Boston how to drown?" I politely declined, chuckling to myself the whole way to swim lessons!

My six-year-old son came home one day from playing at a friend's house. He was telling me about a movie he had watched there. I asked him if the movie was rated PG13, reminding him that he wasn't allowed to watch PG13 movies. He thought for a minute, then answered, "Don't worry, Mom. It wasn't PG13--it was only PGthir." How can a mom hold a straight face at that ingenious answer?

On another occasion, this same child was ranching with Grandpa and his little sister all day. They each had a donut (a ranching tradition), and as Grandpa turned the corner, he said, "Hold on, Regyn" to the little three-year-old. Nate replied, "She is holding on, Grandpa. She's holding on to her donut!"

One of my favorites is something my oldest child, Hallee, said once. I told her how much I loved her. She said the same thing back, so I tried to outdo her, and this little game went back and forth. Finally I said, "I love you to the moon and back," thinking surely I had her this time. Her response caught me off guard when she replied, "I love you to Heavenly Father and back."

I sometimes wish I could look at the world again through a child's eyes. Then maybe all of the stresses that I allow to clutter my life wouldn't seem so big after all. Life would be simple and sweet. At this point, I guess I'll just have to enjoy all of the innocent, funny remarks my children come up with because one thing's for sure--kids say the darndest things!

My Life in Song

Have you ever heard a song on the radio and thought, "Now, that describes my life perfectly"?

The other day I was exercising at the local elementary school playground with a bunch of other moms. We were running around the track, and every time we would run by, my little three-year-old would yell, "Hi, Mom! Hi!" and flail her arms at me. I couldn't help but think as I ran by that it was nice to be so loved and popular, even if it was by a litle blonde child. The lady running next to me kind of laughed and said, "do you know what that reminds me of? That song called 'You're Gonna Miss This'? I can't help but think of my life in terms of songs."

I thought about that and remembered the many times I have heard a song and thought, "That's my song--that song must have been written about me because that's just how I feel." Can you relate?

Here are a few examples of a couple of songs over the years that have touched me deeply because, well, they are a summary of my life at that time. Now, of course, being a mother of four children ranging in age from 18 months to eight, my songs seem to all relate to motherhood in some way--from the touching to the hilarious!
* "I Have Been Blessed" by Martina McBride (love this song--I have truly been so blessed)
* "Don't Blink" by Kenney Chesney (kids grow so darn fast, don't they?)
* "Just Another Day in Paradise" by Phil Vasser (my husband and my theme song!!)
* "You're Gonna Miss This" by Trace Atkins (I remind myself of this every day)
* "Let Them Be Little" by Billy Dean (they're only that way for a while)
* and more. . .

So, what are yours? Do you have any "theme songs"? There's nothing like putting your life to music! Here's to your songs and your life!