The Ball Doesn't Matter

Before we had kids TJ and I loved going on late night walks in the summer.  It's so pleasant to be out in the cool air, watching the sun set, holding hands, and talking.  With temperatures around 97 during the day, it's just a treat to be out when it's not so hot.  We rarely get out for those late walks anymore: Reed typically goes to bed around 7:30 and we'd rather have him get his sleep and be cheerful the next day than watch the sun set.  So we skip the walks for now.  (I love to remember that life is long - those walks will be back before we know it). 

On an atypically mild evening a few weeks ago we loaded Holland into the stroller and let Reed bring his new orange scooter for a walk.  We're practicing teaching Reed about sidewalks and the road and not crossing without one of us, so we go way out of our way to stop at every street crossing (even in the neighborhoods) look for moving cars (had to add moving in there because that boy sees every vehicle, stationary or not), and then hold one of our hands to cross.  All that to say, it's pretty slow going when Reed isn't in the stroller.  :) 

About halfway through the walk we turned onto a long street where two kids were playing on the sidewalk: they had two tennis rackets out and were hitting a ball back and forth.  Since we were moving slowly we had time to watch them and figure out they were brother and sister, the boy a little bit older, probably around 8 or 9 years old.  We passed them on the sidewalk and after we got about fifteen feet away heard the boy yell to his sister, "Stop!  The ball doesn't matter!"  I turned around to see that the boy - who had been facing his sister - had seen a car coming that his sister was blind to.  When the ball had gone into the street she went to run for it and he yelled his warning (which she thankfully heeded).  It hit me pretty immediately what a wise brother he was and what a profound statement he made.

I've thought about those words dozens of times since.  TJ and I mulled them over the rest of the walk and he actually used that story in church the following Sunday. 

So much to ponder: an older brother who sees things we don't see and warns us - sometimes urgently - "Stop!  That doesn't matter."  Maybe something we're worrying about is simply not significant in the big picture.  Maybe we're spending time on things that are damaging our spirits.  Maybe we aren't looking our kids in the eyes - truly looking at them, devices far away - and giving them our full attention.  Maybe the things we read or watch are pulling us down instead of lifting us up.  Maybe it doesn't really matter the last time the floor was mopped or the baseboards scrubbed or the flower beds weeded. 

Are we taking time to think about what really does matter?  Are we spending time on the things that are consequential?  Don't get me wrong - I don't think the goal is to be going and accomplishing and doing the most possible each day.  But I think it's good to pause every once in a while, reflect, and consider whether we are getting nudges about things that simply don't matter so we can adjust our course.

A few minutes after Holland was born - I love this picture that captures one of those moments when time stands still.  Right here Holland is all that matters.

Weekly Family Photo

Reed's jacket is from the Petersons and I tricked Reed into wearing it.  He loathes new clothes so - after a whole lot of screaming - I told him if he'd just wear it for a picture so my sister and her son could see it, he could take the jacket off.  What a great smile he did to get it off, right?

A Little Like Groundhog Day

As a sophomore in college I spent a semester studying abroad in Spain.  I lived with a fabulous family who taught me so much: how to speak Spanish, certainly, but also how to serve and how to eat well and how to reach outside your comfort zone and really connect with people.

The center of daily life was a delectable, massive lunch each day with at least three courses.  My angelic family must have doubled their food budget while I was there: I have never eaten so much food in my life.  I simply couldn't get full.  I'm not sure if it was all the walking or what, but it got to the point that they would pass dishes to everyone else at the table and let me have everything that was left (and they didn't know I had gone out to eat before I even came home from school!)  We sat around the dining room table every day and ate and talked and listened and learned and connected.

After lunch my roommate and I sometimes found ourselves subject to watching our family's favorite American shows: The Simpsons (I loathe that show), Back to the Future (all of them - which is way too many...), and Groundhog Day.  In fact, I hate every one of those shows.  :)  

But now that I'm home with two little littles I find myself thinking about Groundhog Day with some frequency.  The rhythms of our daily life feel so darn consistent sometimes I feel as though I live on Groundhog Day.

The typical 24 hours:

• 6 AM - ish (heaven help me on the days it's 5:45 and I'm pleased as punch the days it's 7 or even 7:20) - Reed wakes up
• 4 minutes later - Reed pokes Holland and announces "Hana wake!"
• 7 AM - 8:30 - Mad dash for TJ and Rachel to shower and get ready
• 8 AM - breakfast - in mouths but also all over the floor and across all surfaces of the kitchen
• 9 AM - feed Holland, get her changed and dressed, Reed changed and dressed, clean some of the morning mess up, etc.
• 9:45 AM - try to leave the house to somewhere - anywhere! - so I don't lose my mind.  Costco, Harmon's, the library for storytime, a walk, and the Bean Museum at BYU are all frequent stops.  Reed and I love these outings.  Holland is typically neutral.
• 11 AM - leave the location after about an hour and head for home
• 11:03 AM - both kids are crying, hungry, and ready for naps and we have miles to go before we're home ;)
• Noon - arrive home, feed Holland, cobble a lunch together for Reed, talk myself through the next 30-60 minutes.
• 1 PM - naps!  It's the best when they both go down at the same time and I can blitz through various activities independently.  Boy, it's starting to sound like I hate my kids.  I DON'T!
• 3 or 4 PM - kids are up, we play games, work on dinner (Reed standing on his "watch" chair to help me), Reed often plays out in the dirt (scooping and dumping, as he tells me), feed Holland.
• 4:47 PM ish - TJ comes home!  He is often given both children while I step away to read.
• 5:30 PM - dinner.  Reed is getting better at eating!  Holland typically sits at the table with us.  :)
• 6:30 PM - start the bedtime routine: brush teeth, read scriptures, have prayer, get in jammies, find binkies and blankets and diggers to hold in bed.
• 7:30 or 8:30 PM - put Reed down - TJ typically takes this task, laying in bed with him to read a book before coming out to wait for him to get out of bed and go sleep in his tent.  :)
• 8 or 9 PM - feed Holland, talk and play with her while she kicks and smiles.
• 9 PM - watch a show (usually a cooking show) together
• 10 PM - get ready for bed, read, get Holland in pajamas, etc.
• 11 PM - lights out
• 2 AM - Reed wakes up (about 50% of the time)
• 4 or 5 AM - Holland is up to eat

In the thick of it I can't help but wonder if I'm doing anything right.  Where are all the enriching activities?  What about our summer goal to read five books every day?  

But we are all well fed.  We're sleeping at night.  We get out of the house most days and we've seen some neat places while we're out.  The house is a mess but the kids know we love them.  And we do love them.  Even when it feels like every day is a repeat - they grow so fast.  Hopefully some of the routines sink in and bless their lives somehow.

Biggest Smile

It's an interesting thing to watch a baby grow.  Each day I look at Holland and I look at Reed and wonder how he went from her size to his size so quickly.  What an incredible, crazy miracle that these tiny humans grow physically, learn so quickly, develop mentally, and become their own little person.  

It seems like every stage with Reed I think "Oh, this is so fun - I never could've anticipated the million little things he does and says that make me laugh," and then a month later, as we enter a new phase, I think that same thing again.  To date, both TJ and I have found a whole lot to enjoy in each phase.  

Don't get me wrong - there are absolutely times when I think I'm going to blow up in just one more minute (like when he threw a shoe at my face from point blank this morning...)  But there are so many more endearing moments, like the times he just wants comfort and thinks he'll feel that best by having his cheek squeezed against mine, his soft skin held tightly on my face as he says "Mommy, right here."  

Since he was teeny tiny Reed has been a pretty serious kid.  He's a thinker.  He studies things out.  He watches other kids for quite a while before he joins them.  He squats down to the ground and stares at something, then takes it apart to figure it out ("Mommy - did it!").  He just isn't one of the giggly, smiley kids - which is totally fine!  But how I love to see him smile.  :)  He does smile - and often - just not constantly.  

A few days ago I thought I'd see if I could get him to smile by challenging him to give me his "biggest smile."  He consented and then tried his hardest to meet my request to smile, "Bigger!  Bigger!"  :)  The pictures I got sure make ME smile.  My biggest.

Fishing at Strawberry

Just a few years ago TJ's dad (Poppy, around these parts) started catching kokanee salmon while fishing at Strawberry Reservoir.  He tells us "it's a disease" - he has become fairly focused on catching all the kokanee he can.  Last year he put a decent chunk of money into outfitting his boat so that he can catch even more kokanee (and now I feel like every time I eat one of those delectable fillets of fish I'm eating the most expensive fish of my life).  Poppy loves fishing and we really love Poppy, so we asked if he'd take us up to Strawberry to join him in the chase.  We went up on July 5.

Nanny and Poppy - saints that they are - took the boat up on the fourth of July and slept overnight at the lodge so they'd be ready for us as soon as we made it up July 5.  In spite of our intentions to leave at 5:00 we pulled out of the driveway at 6:00 and arrived to the lake right near 7:30.  As we drove slowly through the parking lot, trying to remember where to go, we heard Reed exclaim, "Nanny!"  He was, in fact, the only one of us that saw Nana standing in the parking lot as we passed her.  That boy has some great eyes!

We spent a gorgeous morning out on the water, trying to figure out the perfect trolling speed (1.5 mph), the best depth for the lines (they seemed to be biting between 20-30 feet, though the fish finder never saw them at those ranges), the right lures and scents and spots on the lake.  We had a great time and even pulled in a few kokanee (well, I never did  - I refused to pick up the rod when there is a valuable fish on the line as I nearly always lose them).  Reed got to pull in three cutthroat (we don't trust him with kokanee either ;) and seemed excited about that, but bawled when we had him go back for a picture and the fish flipped right next to him - that was unforgivable behavior from the fish.

Each time we drive up to Strawberry I am blow away by the beauty.  And it's so close to home.  God is an incredible artist.

So grateful for this family of mine and for Nana and Papa who spoil us all rotten.

Sunday Family Photo

An Ordinary Wednesday

Yesterday as TJ was rushing out the door to get to work I heard him exclaim, "Oh, Reed.  Did you decide to pour some Cheerios?"  From back in our room I hollered, "Take a picture before you clean it up!" 

That right there was probably an omen for the day ahead.  :)

Before diving into all the other notable things for the day, let me post this cute picture from our adventure to Temple Square yesterday morning.  I was relieved I didn't drop either child for this picture.  In spite of what the rest of this post might suggest, I really love my kids.  A lot.

A short while after cleaning up the Cheerios Reed kicked out of his stinky diaper, doing a decent job of getting the contents on himself, his clothes, the changing pad, and the carpet.  Bath #1.

We went down to Temple Square in the morning then came home for lunch and naps.  Reed woke up after only a 90 minute nap, when he typically naps 2-3 hours.  In spite of my best efforts, he would not go back down.  The next couple of hours looked like this:

• Reed goes out to dig in the "dirt box."  (Around here our garden grows a little boy but no food).
• After some time Reed comes to the door at the same time Holland wakes, hungry and crying.  Reed says he's done outside and because he's covered in dirt I help him decide where he wants to go next.  He wants to play in the garage, so I carry him there and open the door: he immediately starts crying that he does not want to play in the garage.  Holland is still crying.
• I explain that I need to feed Holland and he says he wants to "scoop and dump" in the front yard (in the dirt under the Japanese Maple), so I take him to the front door.  There are lots of construction workers out (finishing the roads) so I tell him to stay right there to dig and I'll feed Holland in the front room where I can watch him.
• Grab (a still screaming) Holland, change her diaper, go to the front room and start nursing.
• My phone rings a minute later with a call from my brother.  I need to go to my laptop to answer a question for him.  Holland and I are a talented nursing duo so I just stand up and walk with her to the kitchen, making sure Reed is still in the dirt.
• Holland and I are not as talented as I thought.  She loses her latch and starts crying.  I tell my brother I'll call him back.
• I walk back to the front room to resume feeding and peek on Reed who...is gone.  I scan the front yard: not there.  I hurry to the back of the house to check the backyard: not there.  Heart racing I get my shirt back on, lay Holland (still screaming) on the floor, and race outside yelling Reed's name.  (NOTE: there are construction trucks up and down our street all day, so losing him takes years off my life).  He saunters out of the neighbor's yard - they just put fresh dirt in their flower beds, which is great digging material.
• I carry Reed home to the tune of Holland still crying.  I know Reed will object to going inside, so I take him straight to the bath, where I think he'll be happy.
• As the water reaches him the bath is pretty immediately muddy.  I pull off his shorts and shirt and find that he's stinky.  Sweet Holland is still crying.
• I lift Reed - muddy feet and all - out of the bath and clean up his dirty diaper, trying not to cringe about the mud in the bathroom.
• I take the dirty diaper to the garage, pick up the still crying poor, poor Holland, and head to the bathroom to feed her while Reed plays in the bath.
• Since I've been gone Reed has been using his boat to dump water over the edge of the bath.

It was about at this point that I called TJ and asked him if he ever wonders what he misses at home.  :)

After TJ came home Reed successfully grabbed a container of almond milk in the pantry, twisted it open, and dumped it into the recycling bin.  While TJ cleaned that up Reed ran into the kitchen and picked up the spatula I had set down and dripped it across the floor.

Sometimes I wonder why I eat so much chocolate.  :)