Glow Sticks Light Up the Night

One of the funniest things I have a heard a kid apologize for without being prompted: "I'm sorry for eating the gwoh stick." 

Overheard: "No, no! We don't tug at people's bum cracks!"

Sadie: No way! ...Is that funny? Or is it funny when I say, "No way, Hoo-say"? Which one is funny?

Me: (to Sadie) Did you know it's only three days until Christmas?

Sadie's Dinosaur: Oh, I didn't know that you could yodel. And by the way, there's some poop on my bum.  (The dinosaur lied. I can't yodel, and his dinosaur bum was clean.)

I overheard a kid singing "Joel the Lump of Coal" by the Killers and, supposedly, Jimmy Kimmel. Then the kid said, "Is Joel even a name? I've never heard of it before in my life." We all stared at him. Then Bill said, "Um...your UNCLE Joel?" "Oh yeah..." said the kid, looking sheepish. It's not even the kid who usually spaces out.

My Favorite Color

I told Sadie about how I accidentally cut myself. She told me a little story. "One time, I wasn't being carefoh enough with a knife, and I cut mysehf, and I was bweeding, and that was four years ago." (She just barely turned three.) 

Sadie: Is this wrapping paper sparkowee? Oh, it is sparkowee? I wuv it! Sparkowee is MY favorite cowor! 

Sadie begins every single prayer (at any time of day and for any reason) for the past few months the exact same way. "Heavenwy Father, we thank thee for this day. We ask that we can say the prayer this night and that we can be calm and safe." She continues with all kinds of random things that you would expect a two-year-old, now three-year-old to say. She then proceeds to be neither calm or safe. She walks around with blankets on her head next to the top of the stairs, being completely unsafe and making me completely un-calm. She attacks my injured arm. She throws tantrums. She throws all her hardest toys at me. She screams for hours because she forgot to tell someone "Merry Christmas" or because she didn't go potty at someone else's house. She hits me in the eyes so many times that it really is a miracle that my eyes have been safe from her so far. She cries because I give her a sippy cup instead of a big girl cup. She cries because I give her a big girl cup instead of a sippy cup. She laughs uncontrollably about weird things. (I'm not admitting which parent she gets that from.) Somehow, we end the day being relatively safe, and we do say the prayer this night. The calm part may not get answered the way I hope, but it works out in the end. And if it doesn't, there's always chocolate that can be found at my house.

Me: You have the cutest little face!

Sadie: You have a BIG face. You have the weirdest face in the hoe white worohd.

I overheard Sadie singing Christmas songs to herself. "Si-went night, Hoe-wee Ghost..."

Sadie drew a picture for someone. She explained her scribbles to me. "This is the Christmas tree. This is a heart. This is you, and this is your bwood. And this is your more bwood on your finger from not being carefoh. And this is another mommy, and this is another bwood...." 

8:05 on Sunday

Sadie: What time is it?

Me: It's 8:05.

Sadie: Weh, it doesn't SEEM 8:05. (Two-year-olds have such a good concept of time.)

Sadie: What day is it?

Me: It's Sunday.

Sadie: Weh, it doesn't WOOK wike Sunday. ( Two-year-olds always know what day of the week it is.)

Sadie: Where are we?

Me: We're in Ogden.

Sadie: Weh, it doesn't WOOK wike we're in Ogden. It wooks wike somewhere ewse. (Two-year-olds always know exactly where they are.)

Last night, Bill asked Sadie to say the prayer. She responded, "I can't. I'm too busy coworing in my coworing book."

Avery brought Sadie to the window this morning to show her the snow. Sadie got super excited and said, "Oooh! Wook at the snow fawing! It's coming down on the ground! Brrr! It's freezing out there!" I remember when I was a kid, it snowed a few times, maybe once every other year or so. I knew there was snow because I could see the white ground. I got glasses a little over a year before we moved away from South Carolina. It snowed that year, and I could not believe it when I saw the snow falling. I had previously thought that snow just appeared on the ground because I couldn't see well enough to see the falling snowflakes. My mom would try to point out the falling snow the other times, but I had no idea what she was talking about. I also had no idea that trees had individual leaves because they just looked like one green blob on each tree. I even had my second grade teacher get after me when she said the tree I was drawing didn't look realistic because there weren't individual leaves. I had no clue what she meant by that. I'm so glad Sadie can see well enough to see individual snowflakes! 

All my kids: What are sopapillas?

Me: (Looking at Bill in sadness that they can't remember one of the best things about New Mexico)

Me: What do you want to get Daddy for Christmas?

Preston: I don't know, maybe a potato peeler or something...

S for Soup

We couldn't find the boys when it was time to leave the grocery store. They had found some "amazing" toy and were playing with it. They actually said, "This is amazing!" about the toy. It was a self-inflating whoopie cushion.

If I get separated from the rest of my family at a store, it is super easy to find them because Sadie is excited about every little thing and talking loudly about what she sees on each aisle. ("Wook, Daddy! New cereoh! I wike that kind!...)

Me: Sadie, how should we do your hair when you wear your mermaid costume on Halloween? 

Sadie: I would wike it to wook wike a tiger that can swim.

My sister and her family were staying with us a couple of days in between moving from the house they just sold and the one they were buying. We were having dinner the other night, and Bill said, "It just warms my heart to feed the homeless."

Sadie: My body is big and worm!

Me: Are you saying that your body is big and warm?

Sadie: It's big and warm AND it has wormies. And I saw a big wormy in the backyard. But Daddy kiwed it, and it's DEAD! It was saying, "Ssssss" but then it didn't have a head anymore. Because Daddy kiwed it, and it's DEAD! It doesn't have a home anymore. And it doesn't have a body anymore because it's DEAD! S for wormy! That's what my book says. S for wormy. (It really says S for snake, as you might imagine. Also, her body does not have wormies, but her dad really did chop the head off a snake in front of a two-year-old.)

Sadie: That's my mom. My mom is named Mewissa Soup. 

Nothing makes Avery madder than someone laughing at her, especially when she is already hurt. I felt bad for doing it. I just couldn't help it. She was going crazy doing high kicks and dancing around. Right as I was telling her to calm down and be careful because she looked like she was going to get hurt or hurt someone else, she kicked herself in the face and made her lip bleed. 

I was helping Sadie say a prayer today. I peeked at her with her eyes closed so tightly while she was repeating everything I said. It made me feel grateful for my sweet kids, so I told her to say, "Thank you for our sweet family." She said, "Thank you for our feet famiwee..." 

Things my kids said this week about me:

"You're big, so you can do wots of things. You can do things because you're big. You have a big booty to shake."

"I hope I don't have a big nose like yours when I grow up. It's so long!"

"You know how to cook? Wike Daddy cooks?"

"Who cut your hair? Was it Heather? It was Heather! I want to watch a show about her cutting your hair. It was wong, and now it's short. Do you have short hair now? It wooks weird."

The Windows of Heaven

Malachi 3:10: Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.

I always read this verse and thought that I would receive these blessings in the future. I just realized how many ways that I have already had the windows of Heaven opened, with blessings that there is not room enough to receive. Here's my list of just a few examples. 

1. I have plenty of food, enough that my pants can no longer receive more. Our pantry is also overflowing, and I don't know where we would put more food. What a blessing! 

2. I have to buy new pants, but I don't know where they will go because my closet and dresser are overflowing with all the clothes I have to keep me warm and covered and occasionally stylish, although it's been a while since I have attempted fashion.

3. I have an amazing husband, one who is okay with my loss of fashion sense and gain of weight that causes me to wear only pajamas or the one pair of jeans that fits that I bought the first month after having my first baby. He does so much for our family that I can't even begin to list all his good attributes and service and amazing cooking abilities because you don't have room to receive all my praise for him and not feel envious of me.

4. I have four kids. Does anyone have room to receive four kids? I don't think there's a house big enough that they wouldn't still find a way to trash every room in ten minutes. When they aren't fighting, I have moments of feelings of love that I can barely contain. If they were always well-behaved, there's no way I would be equipped to handle that much love... (I still love them when they're naughty. I just have to eat more chocolate to cope, which is another blessing spilling out of my pantry...)

5. My four kids have more toys than our house has room to receive. How many kids have few or no toys all over the world? I'm pretty much ready to take it all to the thrift store, if only I had enough energy to go through everything and organize it all.

6. I don't have the energy, but my youngest child makes up for it with an excess of energy that I don't have room to receive. What a blessing that little fireball is, that she came to our family at the right time to keep me company while I am trying to figure out MS. (I keep hearing stories of people having problems as bad or worse than I have had, people who find the solutions that work for them after experimenting the first few years, and it gives me hope that I will find that miracle cure that allows me to run after my kids and drive again.)

7. After being in the hospital when I was pregnant with Sadie and when I first started having problems with MS, I had an abundance of dishes in my home from all the meals people brought to us. We literally did not have room to receive all those dishes. I was blessed to see so much goodness and love in all the people who helped us out. 

8. While looking for a bigger bed for Sadie today, I was led by the Spirit to search some classified ads. I found an amazing deal on a bed we had looked at a few years ago, and it came with so much that we barely had room to receive it all in my van. I was able to spend about half of what I was expecting to pay for the furniture I got, so my bank account can barely find room for all that extra money that wasn't withdrawn today... I frequently am blessed to find good deals on items, making my money stretch further. 

I have lots more little experiences and blessings that I have seen come directly from paying tithing. What are your examples of the Lord's promised blessings from paying tithing being fulfilled in your lives? If you haven't yet experienced the blessings that come from paying tithing, now is a great time to find your own faith in this particular principle by experimenting upon the word and trying it out!

Identity Theft

We all create an identity for ourselves in our minds. We associate certain traits as being a constant part of who we really are. Here are a few things I have thought would always be a part of my identity. I am mostly neither proud of or overly ashamed of these things, and there are many more things that should be on the list, both good and bad.

Thin

Pretty eyes

Horrible skin

Pretty good athlete

Decent musician

High intelligence

Love of serving others

Love of all things fun

Too talkative

Poor self control, especially when it comes to food

I have a bit of an internal dilemma as I see some of these things on my list changing. Some changes are easier to deal with than others. I am now an average weight because of medications I have taken that have caused me to gain weight. I'm trying to be okay with that change, but I haven't mentally and emotionally adapted well. Also, my wardrobe has not been adapted for this change, so I don't fit into any of my pants. My eyelashes are becoming thinner and shorter as I age. Also, my eyes don't work well. My skin quality goes up and down; every once in a while, it isn't that bad. I currently have absolutely no coordination or strength because of MS, so I am horrible at all sports now. I frequently can't play songs that used to be easy for me on the piano because of a loss of fine motor skills. Also, I never get to practice piano because I am a mother. I also cannot consistently sing well. I have had cognizant issues relating to MS, so I actually am getting stupider beyond just the normal IQ decreases that come with being a tired mother. I am not able to serve people very well much of the time because of my own health issues. I am also so tired that I don't enjoy as many activities as I used to, and I just don't have as much fun anymore. Even if I want to do some fun things, I frequently have to choose not to because I know my body can't handle very many activities. I now sometimes don't want to talk and would rather listen to others, or I am too tired to talk. Once in a while, I am even mature enough to censor myself and avoid saying things I shouldn't. I have way better self control than I used to have. Having tons of food allergies, most of which can be deadly, can change a person in that way. I never thought I would be able to stop myself from eating something I wanted because it seemed impossible the way I was before. 

All these changes in what I thought were integral parts of me show me a few things:

1. I shouldn't label myself. God can give and take away, and I can't base my identity on those labels, even if the pants labels have a bigger number on them than I would like. 

2. Losing and gaining new abilities doesn't actually change my individual worth, even if I usually feel like I am worth less when I physically contribute less. I need to work on remembering that I have value, whether or not I feel like I am a contributing member of my family or society or when my kids tell me I am good at laying on the couch. The trials and how I deal with them are what bring about the good changes in my abilities, which still don't actually make me worth more but help me cope better with life.

  

3. The only part of my identity that doesn't change is that I am a daughter of God. He loves me. If I can remember who I really am, maybe I won't feel too upset when I have so many things changing that I thought would never change. (Don't take this as a sign that I am hinting that I am super depressed, just that I have normal feelings of inadequacy and sadness when I am not meeting my own expectations.)

4. I'm stealing this one from a friend yesterday, and I have no idea where she got it, but the idea behind it always helps me to cope with all these changes so much better. "Laughter is like a windshield wiper. It doesn't stop the rain but allows us to keep going." 

So to keep me going, here are a few of Sadie's funny quotes from the last few days, well, the ones I can remember...

Sadie: Mom, what do you wike when you're in the mood for?

Me: I like you.

Sadie: No, you don't wike me. You wike cheese sometimes, maybe a sour kind.

Sadie: You can borrow awe these. (While dumping all her blankets and stuffed animals on my lap, just what a claustrophobic person loves...) You're borrowing awe my stuff! Is it fun? It is fun! And we can have a couch party! Just wet me get up there with you...

Sadie: What in the world!?! (She has said this multiple times the last few days, with great surprise and expression, and she actually uses the expression appropriately. I'm not sure if she got it from me. I don't know if I actually say that when I am probably thinking something less appropriate for a toddler to say.)

I got my bangs trimmed, and Sadie got a haircut. After we got home, she said, "Where are your bangs?" I pointed to them. "No, where are your weftover bangs? Oh no! We weft our weftover hair there!" 

Preston and Avery had been laughing and playing and were up super late. I told them to go to bed, and he replied, "Well, at least we're obeying Daddy even if we're up late. He told us in his note before he left on his trip to remember to be best friends, and we are right now!" I'm glad we have moments of them being best friends. I hope they have more of those times and not just when it's an hour after bedtime, after fighting all afternoon and evening.

Avery has become a little like the one sister of mine I never thought she would have anything in common with. When we were kids, my dad, with his twisted humor, would always have Becky say the prayer on Christmas morning when we were waiting to go open presents. She would be thankful for everything people could think of to be thankful for and then a bunch of things most people would never think to show gratitude for. It's a great trait to have. It's hard to sit through one of those prayers if you are a kid waiting to open presents. Avery's prayers are like that, and it's wonderful and sometimes a little stressful in the morning before school when their ride is going to come at any second while she's still being thankful for those leaves on our neighbor's trees. It is a good reminder to me to try to be more that way.

Cutest Puppy Ever

We hit a new low tonight. Sadie's doll said our family prayer. 

Carter was talking to his friend online this afternoon, collaborating on some homework assignment together and probably also goofing off. I suddenly heard the sounds of a cello coming from downstairs. I knew something was up because he has never played before without strong threats of bodily harm. (His idea of bodily harm is not being able to play minecraft or other programming games he likes to play. "But I'll DIE if you don't let me...") It turned out they were practicing their violin and cello together over Skype. These are the same boys who have played H-O-R-S-E over Skype with laptops outside by their respective home basketball hoops. 

I love when Sadie follows her teacher, Miss Avie, around the house. She had art class today. So now there are weird used envelopes and other things that have been covered with little spirals of all different colors. 

One of my sisters brought home the cutest puppy I have ever seen, admitting that her husband "slightly" didn't know she was bringing the puppy home. Sadly, a few days later they realized that they couldn't keep the puppy because of allergies. Luckily my other sister fell in love with the puppy, so they came and got it and brought it home. A few days later, they realized that they couldn't keep her because of allergies as well. If I didn't know that five out of six of us in this house are very allergic to dogs, I would be tempted to go get that puppy. It's a black lab/heeler mix, and it has got to be the cutest puppy possible. I feel like I've fallen in love with that little cutie, and I've only seen her through pictures! I hope she finds a good home full of healthy people without allergies to dogs. 

Avery had a little talent show at church with the girls ages eight through eleven and parents. She played "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" on the ukulele, which is a fine song for an eight year old girl to play. I was a little disappointed that she didn't play another song that she has been playing around with..."Smoke on the Water".... Who doesn't want to rock out on the ukulele with a classic from 1972 for their first ever performance?

Sock Boat

Sometimes I worry that my kids are too spoiled. They have so many things! Then my two-year-old gets so excited about a package of new socks and tries every single pair on and also plays with them by pretending they are little people who are in a boat that is her dad's hat. 

Just because a movie is rated G doesn't mean that it won't terrify your children. Take Toy Story, for example. Preston had nightmares about the evil Zurg for almost a year when he was about three. Now Sadie is terrified about even the idea of the little aliens from Toy Story. She thinks they are going to get her feet. She has been crying and had the terrified look in her eyes for half an hour. She called her daddy and asked him to "come home from your meeting so you can hode me so the wittow awiens from Toy Story don't get my feet." It breaks my heart, while making me laugh at the same time. 

Bill: I can't believe how many emoticons there are! There's got to be a rocket or a robot or a lego or something that would work in my email, but they're so small. It's hard to tell what they are. That one looks like a robot pig. 

(Five minutes later...)

Me: I think you should just send out your email.

Bill: But I have to put one of these in now that I found all of them!

Avery: Well, it feels kind of like a hiccup and a burp, but it also feels kind of like a cough. Whatever's happening, cold air just keeps coming up. 

Bill: Let Avie fix your hair, Sadie. Do you want it to be all messy?

Sadie: No, not messy. Crazy!

Me: You want your hair to be crazy?

Sadie: Yes. I want it to be aw crazy. Wike yours, Mama.

Carter: (praying) ....and thank you that we could sleep good or partially good....

Avery's had a little bump on her head for a few years. It recently started growing a little bit, and she has had headaches pretty much every day. The doctor thinks it is just a cyst, and he'll take it off in an inpatient surgery in his office in a couple of weeks. I hope her headaches stop once it's gone!

This scene kind of breaks my heart because Sadie thinks this kind of thing is totally normal:

Meatwoaf: Ehmo, I just have to go to the hospitoh to get a shot. I wih just be right back. You can go pway since I have to go to the hospitoh. We're here at the hospitoh now. 

Ehmo: Okay, now wet me get you a shot now. It wih just hurt a wittow bit. You wih just have a wittow bit of bwod. 

Meatwoaf: Okay, we wih go home now because we are done at the hospitoh. I'm gonna walk home upside down. Upsy Daisy! 

Sadie has sneaked out of the room with her hat full of socks in her arms and closed the door. Something shady is probably going on out there now.

Confirmations

Carter: (speaking of when he was younger, before I had very many health problems) You were the best mom ever then! You always did fun things with us! I mean, you're still the best mom ever, but you're just not AS good as you were then. 

I'm glad that he can confirm that my insecurities about my current mothering abilities are based on reality instead of just an overactive imagination. 

I'm also glad that amazon sends me confirmations of kindle books, even if sometimes those confirmations come six hours after I finish reading the book. It's just such a relief to know my book arrived safely! 

Avery got baptized today. There were very few people in attendance, which was great. It was a little weird when the kids got up to sing a song, and I realized there were more people making the music than listening to it. Sadie did neither, but she did climb on me part of the time when I was accompanying them on the piano, but she only did that while she wasn't yelling and running around. She also grabbed on to Bill's legs while Avery was being confirmed and tried to pull him away. At least I have hope that she will learn to be reverent and calm one day. I have seen people in other families do it, so I know it can be done. 

I wish I had started recording what Sadie was saying sooner the other day. You know how it's always funnier right before you start videoing what kids are doing, but once you start, they stop being funny? Same with her story telling. Still funny and cute but not AS funny and cute as what she said for several minutes before I started writing it down. Not bad for a two-year-old. I look forward to her future creative endeavors. 

Sadie's Story:

When I was a wittow giroh, I went in Ogden. And first, I went to the doctor with my three wittow puppies. They had to get a checkup. And the doctor said go on the taboh. And the puppies escaped from the big puppies. And they wost their favorite toy in the darkness. And a monster came. The wittow puppies got in trouboh, and then the mommy came and said, "Hi." The mommy went in the darkness and found their toy. They found their favorite toy, Tigey, wike Danieoh Tiger's. The wittow puppies got in big trouboh. And they said, "Hi," to their mommy. And that's it. That's my whoe story. Except I have another story about Sawt and Pepper. 

Sawt and Pepper and Meatwoaf took a nice wong nap, and they ate some breakfast. And they ate a burrito. They had jam on their sandwiches. And they ate it. And that's some kind of story. I don't know. Watch a show, maybe? 

Okay, once upon a time, there was a giroh, and her name was Meatwoaf. And her mommy had to take her on a wahk. Maybe Meatwoaf had to go to her friend's house, and she said, "Mommy, you're here!" And then they couldn't find each other. And they found Sawt and Pepper and Meatwoaf. And they were aw friends, and they talked about it. 

Cute Wittow Sadie

I put Sadie back in diapers because she lost interest in potty training. I checked her diaper once today, and she screamed, "Aagh! You saw my bummy!"

Sadie: Your bewybutton is a cute wittow guy.

Me: Sadie, let's see how high you can count.

Sadie: One! (Jumps) Two! (Jumps) Three! (Jumps) .... Eweven! (Jumps) That's very high to count!

Two-year-olds take things literally.

Remember how I said that Sadie likes my toes? Here is proof. It's kind of gross.

Sadie was playing with a toy, talking to it. "Hi. I'm good. I'm naked. Oh. My mom took my pajamas off to get a penciw out of the bottom of the toes, and she didn't give me any new cwose. So I'm just naked. You can pway with me. You can be my friend."

I just read an article that recommended that people in a marriage be dishonest if they don't like a meal their spouse made. That seems like the worst advice I have ever heard. What do you think? It's okay if you disagree with me. 

Prayers

Sadie's prayer this morning: Thank you for my breakfast. Thank you that Carter could go to schoo. Thank you that Presty could go to schoo. Thank you that aw the kids could go to schoo, even Avie. Thank you that Sadie could not go to schoo. Thank you that Sadie can eat breakfast. Thank you that Mama can sweep in her bed. Thank you that Sadie can sweep, too. And that I can watch a show. Amen.

Do your kids watch Care Bears? Do you remember when they do the Care Bear Stare? Sadie does...

Sadie: Thank you, Heaveny Father. Care Bear Prayer! (She then shone her "belly badge" at the sky.)

The other morning, as the kids were getting ready for school, I felt that what we really needed to talk about for our morning devotional (We say a family prayer and read scriptures together and talk about important faith building things while bearing testimony to each other. At least, that is the goal.) was about being a friend to all people, especially those kids at school who don't have many friends or who are having a hard time. We were slow getting everyone ready on time, and we only had a couple of minutes before their ride was going to come. We said prayer first because it is more important, and I didn't want them to leave without praying together. As Carter began speaking, he said, "...Please bless us to work hard to make new friends, to seek out those people who are lonely or sad and to help them. Please bless us to listen to have the Spirit with us to guide us to those people who need our help the most. Please help us to focus on others and to serve them..." 

First of all, what eleven year old boy talks like that? Second, it strengthens my own testimony of God and of the gift of the Holy Ghost when he says a powerful prayer about things that I had already felt strongly about discussing with the kids, nearly word for word what I felt we should talk about. Third, all the other kids were actually quiet and listening to what he said. Fourth, I was able to just reinforce with a couple of sentences what I wanted them to think about and work on for the day, and they were able to get out the door just in time for their ride to school. 

Don't Let It Happen To You

This is kind of a personal post, but don't be scared away. I'll be back with funny kid stuff next time. 

I have been sick all night because of some upsetting news. A family very close to me, people I love and respect immensely, is dealing with a divorce. These are phenomenal people. Amazing. And they aren't the first of my close friends and family members to go through this recently. It is becoming more and more common, hitting close to home frequently. I imagine pretty much everyone I know is seeing these surprising divorces, not just in the marriages that we never expected to work but in the marriages that we have tried to emulate because they seemed to have such great relationships.

When I see this happening, it hurts. I have had physical pain, feeling the heartbreak, and I am not one of the injured parties. Except I am an injured party. Divorce injures everyone. I am not saying that it is not needed sometimes, and I will never be the one to judge anyone because I can't know their hearts or what they have been through. Even those divorces which are justified and where both spouses end up happier when they are apart still cause pain and suffering for many people. 

Each time I have had someone I know well going through divorce, I have thought: 

If it could happen to them, it could happen to me. 

These people are amazing. More talented than I am. They have more to contribute to their families and their communities than I do. They have energy and don't live with disability. 

As I was going through these thought cycles, feeling anxious and upset and sick to my stomach, completely unable to sleep, I came back to that thought. If it could happen to them, it could happen to me. 

Then I realized that I, like so many others, was feeling exactly what Satan wants me to feel. He is subtle. He tells us that partial truth to mask the lie in that statement. He wants us to keep thinking it so that we eventually become comfortable with divorce as a viable option. He wants us to let life just happen to us. He wants us to lose our choice in life. He wants us, all of us, to be miserable like he is. 

I do see the one true part of that statement. I see that I need to watch more closely what I do, that I need to work harder at making my marriage work and honoring the covenants I have made. I am grateful for truth. I am grateful for family. And I am grateful that I have spent a horrible night and day, thinking about these things. I should feel horrible about it. I shouldn't feel complacency about something that is destroying happiness. 

With all of these thoughts going through my mind, over and over, I also pray for peace and love for those involved. I hope that they do see the improved lives that they are hoping for. I hope they can find peace within themselves and find the happiness that is meant for all of us. I hope their children thrive. I hope they find the love they long for. 

If anyone needs a reminder about the importance of families, here is part of a wonderful (and scary, if you read the last sentence) proclamation full of truth:

Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives--mothers and fathers--will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.

The family is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed.

We warn that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets.

© 1995, 2008 by Intellectual Reserve, Inc. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. The Family: A Proclamation to the World. Language. 35602 xxx

http://www.lds.org/manual/the-family-a-proclamation-to-the-world/the-family-a-proclamation-to-the-world?lang=eng

Empathy

Bill wouldn't take Sadie to the store with him because he was too embarrassed to be seen in public with her in her Super Sadie costume. She won't take it off. She keeps saying, "Super Sadie to the rescue!" (I forgot I wrote about that a few weeks ago. I can now update that she has been Super Sadie almost every day the last few weeks. Sometimes she is wearing a Supergirl costume. Sometimes a blanket tied on like a cape. Sometimes a kids life jacket, possibly over a princess dress. She likes to change things up.)

Preston was in Sadie's room, and she thought he locked the door. (He didn't. She just couldn't open it.) I would have expected her, like any normal two-year-old, to be yelling at him to open the door and let her in. Instead, she was pounding on the door yelling over and over, "Empathy! Think about how someone else is feewing! Empathy!" Thanks, Daniel Tiger.

Over the summer, Avery has been finding all the kits that we had given Carter before we realized that he couldn't focus on one thing long enough to follow through on science experiments and writing secret codes and all the other things we thought he would like to do. She has spent every day this last week or so working on writing things in hieroglyphics. I don't know who's going to read all her letters, but it is cute. 

I thought morning devotionals might help our family to not fight as much and to have a more peaceful spirit. They have maybe helped a little. Sadie doesn't seem to understand the concept, or she wouldn't have been yelling during the whole thing the other day, "Sadie is not awesome! I am not awesome!" I think it was in response to Carter asking her to sit still and following up his request with, "Sadie is awesome!" 

Today Sadie told me, "You're not awesome, Mama. Actuawy, you are awesome."

Apple pears are a little weird. Not quite pear-y or apple-y enough but a little of each. 

I liked Sadie's made up song today:

I wuv you, my dear wittow Mama.

And you're so cute.

And you wuv me, too.

And Daddy wuvs me.

And Presty wuvs me.

And so does everyone.

And Carter and Presty are so the best.

And I wuv to shake my booty.

And I wuv to shake my booty a wot.

Making Something Is One Way To Say...

Avery: It's easy as pie. Well, how easy is pie?

Preston: Not that easy. Count to Pi. One. Two. Three. Four. Whoops! Passed it! 

Me: Button, button, who's got the button. (Avery was holding one in her hand.)

Avery: I don't know who Scott the Button is.

For some reason, there was a smurf on my head. Sadie looked up at me, shook her head, and said, "You don't wook perfect." Then she took the smurf. 

Sadie asked me if she could open a package of crayons. "What do you want them for?" I asked. She replied, "Oh, I just want them for my art."

I asked Sadie who she played with in her nursery class today. She answered, "Just Annie and Dann-i-ehw and Prince Wednesday." 

Sadie honestly spends hours playing with my feet. She talks to them, dresses them up with sunglasses or her blanket, rocks them like they are babies, and wants to snuggles with my "toesies" as much as she can get away with. It is weird. I also hate people touching my feet unless there is some kind of massage going on. It is also really funny. Sometimes she prays for my feet.

Avery thinks she hit the jackpot of birthday presents because she got a volleyball net with a new ball and badminton equipment. 

My kids have spent days being entertained without using media. Bill's trick? He bought them a bunch of kinds of fabric and felt, and they have been making their own toys and other creative items. They have just been sewing everything by hand, so it takes them a really long time to make anything. There are also fabric scraps and pieces of stuffing everywhere. Probably needles that I will find by sitting or stepping on them as well.

A Wise Man Always Carries His Coat

We watched Jimmy Fallon the other night, and he was talking about #myworstbirthday. I think I could have won the worst birthday contest. Here is my story.

I was eighteen that day. I was FINALLY going on a date with this boy I sort of liked. We had tried to go out a couple of weeks before, but it had been a failure, with all kinds of misunderstandings and not meeting up in the right places. Too bad we didn't have cell phones then, or at least I didn't have one yet. This time, I was supposed to meet him after a concert that he and my brother were playing in, and then we were going to do something afterward. We stopped at my house first. He went inside first, and the door shut because it was super windy. When I went to open the door again, the whole doorknob came off in my hand. The door had locked somehow, so I couldn't open it, and neither could the people inside. No problem, I thought, I'll just go around and go through the garage. When I got into the garage, I discovered two things. First, I learned that my sister, who had come home from college for the weekend, had wrecked the car I usually drove. Second, I found that the wrecked vehicle had been pushed so close to the door that it was impossible for me to open the door to go inside. The back door was out of the question. It was pretty high up, and the house did not yet have a deck or stairs to access that door from the outside. Also, it was freezing and snowy, and I had not brought a coat. It took them probably half an hour to get the front door open. When I finally went inside, someone took me downstairs. There were maybe six to ten people there. "Um, surprise?" someone said. 

Frozen. Date ruined. Realization that I didn't have that many close friends. Sad that my family and friends weren't smart enough to throw me a coat from a window when it was well below freezing. Luckily, I could see the humor in the situation even then. I should have known by that time to follow my grandpa's frequently told advice, especially in southeast Idaho. "A wise man always carries his coat."

Carter Is Awesome!

Sadie wandered into my room around ten last night. "Why are you out of bed?" I asked her. "I can't sweep very weh-oh." I asked her why she was having trouble sleeping. She replied, "I can't sweep good because of the stars." "The stars?" I asked. "Yes. The stars are too woud out there. They keep booming. The stars are too woud for me to sweep." I finally realized what she was talking about. "You can't sleep because you keep hearing the neighbors doing fireworks?" "Yes. The fireworks are too woud," she confirmed.

Sadie brought me a juice drink she wanted to have. "Can I have it?" I didn't answer quickly enough. "Mama, may I pwease have it? Mama is awesome!" I don't feel as bad about giving in to the cuteness when it is a fruit and veggie juice drink.

Carter taught her to say "Carter is awesome!" any time she wants him to give her something or help her with something. She just figured out that she could apply the same saying to other people. While he was in Idaho, she would frequently ask me for something and end her request with, "Carter is awesome!" 

A kids Pandora station was playing. Sadie heard a song, and started to get really excited. "It sounds wike my princess song! That's MY princess! That's Ari-oh! I wuv Ari-oh! She's MY favorite princess!" She was right. It was "Part of Your World" that came on.

Our kids have never had to go to bed before. At least, that's what you would think every single night when they are appalled that they have to go to bed. How dare we tell them not to get out of bed again! And who do we think we are, making them brush their teeth before bed? We have the same routines every night. It is not like it is a surprise to them, but they act like they would never have expected such a thing as bedtime to actually happen to them. I am going crazy that it still happens and that each kid, especially the older three, gets out of bed multiple times each night. Also, it might be worse because I had about four years of good sleepers, and I keep thinking, over the last seven years, that they should go back to being good sleepers like they were when they were babies and toddlers. 

We put Sadie to bed early tonight before we went somewhere. The other kids and babysitter were supposed to stay downstairs so she could sleep. Thirty minutes later, we got a call that she had followed us outside when we left, had run down the street after us, had played in the dirt, and she finally had knocked on the door to get back inside. They called right when she came back. Nobody had any idea that she had even gotten out of bed. Apparently, nobody locked the top lock that Sadie can't unlock. I feel so blessed that nothing happened to her, other than some apparent dirt eating. 

Pitch Not Quite Perfect

Sadie was cuddling with me because she kept saying that she couldn't fall asleep. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and pretended to eat her as I gave her a few more kisses. She usually thinks it's funny and laughs. Not tonight. She said, "Mama, you spit that out. Give it back to me!" I gave her a few kisses to return the part of her that I "ate." Then she told me, "I don't want you to eat me ever again." I asked her, "Why not? You know I'm just playing with you." She replied, " I don't want you to eat me because I'm ree-oh. I'm ree-oh, just wike you're ree-oh. I'm a ree-oh gri-oh. You don't eat ree-oh gri-ohs." 

While visiting family in Idaho, Sadie wanted a cookie, but I was too tired to get her one. Bill's aunt kindly offered to get her one. Sadie didn't really know her, so she kind of freaked out for a second, shaking her head vehemently, "I wike you, Mommy. You're a better guy." (She did take the cookie and later admitted that Bill's aunt was nice.)

I would have been a horrible twelve year old boy. I hate fire and blowing things up. Fireworks stress me out with little kids around. I am not very fun on the Fourth of July, and I am not looking forward to Pioneer Day, which means even more fireworks in Utah.

Avery: Sadie likes it way better when you sing her songs at bedtime. She doesn't really want me to do it. Or Daddy.

Me: Oh, she still likes it when you sing to her.

Avery: Not that much. The songs sound a little better when you sing. I think it's because of your voice or something.

We had a little miracle yesterday. I was singing to Sadie, and Avery joined in. Avery actually matched my pitch on at least half of the notes! She usually is so off that it seems impossible that anyone could really, without trying hard, be that far off pitch. It was nice to only cringe a few times. 

Our older three kids got invited to a swimming party this evening. Bill dropped them off and came home. Over an hour later, he said, "I think we should probably run over to the party." I asked why he wanted to go there. It's not like he's what anyone would call a social person. "It would probably be good if we brought them some towels. I just realized that none of them remembered to bring one." We got there a few minutes later. My friend said that she had let Carter borrow a towel because he was shivering, and he couldn't go back in the water because the waterproof bandages on his finger had fallen off.

I was so glad when I heard that he wouldn't need stitches on his finger that he sliced open on a rusty saw while he was away from home. Now, I am frustrated that he didn't get stitches or glue on his finger because it is still split open and isn't healing well after almost two weeks! It's not infected, but it's just not closing up very well. 

Avery made some homemade ink. She brought it to the couch to show my sister, who was visiting today. She left it there, and less than a minute later, my five year old nephew found the ink and opened the container, splattering the couch and himself with a dark brown staining ink. He started screaming. I took him to wash his hands while my sister worked on the couch. He was still screaming as I washed his hands. I told him that he didn't need to cry, that we would be able to wash everything out and that he would be fine. He cried louder, "There's a ghost!" I told him that there wasn't a ghost. "Yes there is! I can see it right there!" More crying. "Aaaarrgghhh! My hands are all crazy!" I couldn't stop laughing. I laughed harder when my sister told me that any time he gets really upset, he says that there is a ghost, as if the ghost explains his screaming. Then he told me to stop laughing. 

He also brought a picture for me that he had drawn. I put it up on my fridge. He started freaking out. "Take it off! I don't want that picture on there. I don't want to see it, and if it's up there, I would have to see it anytime I go close to the fridge, and I don't want to see that picture anymore. Take it off so I don't see it!" A little while later, he took the picture home because "I don't want to look at it, but I just want this picture anyway."

Stupid

This is the kind of parent I am:

Avery: Preston said I was stupid.

Me: Ugh. You're way too smart to believe a lie like that. Just ignore him. He's just trying to make you cry.

Avery: (Gives me a look of death because I didn't get him in trouble and walks away like I am a waste of breath.)

Two minutes later:

Satan: You are stupid and lazy, and nobody likes you. People would be calling you and visiting you and inviting you to more things if they liked you. You're too stupid to write. You should just give up on your books.  Your house would be clean if you weren't so lazy. 

Me: (Starts crying and believes exactly what he says. Eats more chocolate so that the weight I gained a couple of weeks ago from the steroids will never come off.)

What a hypocrite I am!

Random Mostly About Sadie Because She Is Two

Sadie: Oh no! Candace ate Phimeas and Ferb, and she didn't even say sorry! That's not very nice!

Sadie had a hard time going to her little nursery class on Sunday. I asked her why she was so scared because she usually loves going and has no fear. She answered, "I didn't wike my teacher today. She was creepy. Her hands were awe creepy."

Sadie: I don't want you to turn into a bad guy! Stop waughing wike a bad guy! I don't want you to turn into a bad guy!

Not a story about my kids, but something that made me laugh when it popped into my head: When I was about seven, I learned what "loathe" means. My sister still sort of laughs about how I dramatically told her frequently that I loathed her. (I actually like her and think she is awesome.)

Sadie: I wike my Presty-boy. I miss him. He's my Presty-boy.

A typical Sadie conversation lately goes something like this, "What's your name, Mommy? Are you my mom? And do you wike me? And am I Sadie? What's your name? Are you my parent? I'm a parent. Are you? Are you happy? Oh, you are happy? And do you wike me? What's your name, Mommy?" She will have some version of this conversation many times a day and with everyone she talks to. When I say "conversation," I am talking about a pretty much one-sided monologue that is several minutes long and adorable with her giant brown eyes staring at me.

Speaking of those giant brown eyes, she started crying yesterday because she wanted blue eyes like mine. Then she was sad because she really wanted them to be pink. I love my brown-eyes kids. Preston's are root beer brown, and Sadie's are chocolate brown. Two of my favorite treats. And Bill's are kind of like mud.

I am trying to get caught up on laundry today. I gave Carter some of his laundry to put away, and he responded in a way that I never thought I would hear. "Awesome! Thanks for doing my laundry!" He also repeated the sentiment an hour or so later when I gave him another pile of things to put away. I don't know who replaced my kid, but I like it! He also said, when I first came out of my room this morning, "Do you want to just go back to bed? I can watch Sadie for you today so you can rest. I know the medicine makes you feel really sick and tired. I can just babysit for you the whole day." He has done a good job of helping. I think he is bored with Preston and Avery gone. And maybe Bill had a talk with him about helping out more and being better behaved? 

Gum and Goats

Carter: It would be so awesome if I was a goat.

Avery: Why? All you could do is ram other goats.

A conversation I overheard at church today:

Cute two year old girl behind us: I wish I had some gum.

Sadie: We don't have any gum. Sorry. My mom said it's awe gone.

Girl: Oh, do you have some candy?

Sadie: No, I ahready gave you some. It was your wast piece.

Girl: Okay. 

If your bishop is your chiropractor, you might feel guilty when you pop your back or neck in church or if you even contemplate such an action. You might wish you were sitting in the back instead of front and center. Not that I would know anything about that... (I am at least 95% sure that he doesn't read my blog, but he already knows about my stiff-neckedness, so it's not really a secret.)

If you have read my blogs over the past year or so, you know that I always seem to have trouble walking when I go to Costco. I don't know what it is about the store that sets off weakness in my legs. I also wonder if other people shopping who feel so impatient with my slow walking would say as many rude things if I was an elderly lady instead of a young(ish) mom. Bill said it reminded him of the super slow traffic that we were getting frustrated with when we were in vacation in Hawaii several years ago. When we saw that the person causing the slowdown was an old man riding a bike with no pedals, pushing himself along with his one leg, we felt horrible for getting frustrated. I am sure that most people would be more understanding if I was wearing a shirt that said, "Please excuse my slow walking because I have an illness that causes my legs to be sort of paralyzed some of the time as well as making me super tired and frequently weak, numb, and abnormally dizzy. I also can't see you if you are on the left side of me. Plus, I have a bunch of kids, so that in itself pretty much explains any deficiencies in my body, mind, or character, and it also explains the twenty pounds of chocolate in my shopping cart as well as the extra twenty pounds in my booty, which I have already been informed is jiggly."

Stop judging, people. Stop judging people. For any reason at all. Your judging hurts YOU much more than the person you are judging. (I am speaking to myself here as well, but did you see my use of caps to emphasize who suffers the most damage when we judge others?) Don't judge anyone else. Ever. Unless they are different from you. Then I guess it's probably okay to judge them...

I went shoe shopping a few weeks ago. My sole purpose (Get it? SOLE purpose...) was to find some sandals that were both cute and comfortable without being grandma shoes. I even verbally stated this goal before going. Yet, somehow, I came out of the store with one pair of sandals that were the Easy Spirit brand. My first grandma shoes! (Well, kind of my second pair because of hurt feet in Paris five years ago, but I won't go into those weird shoes.)

When your two year old kid comes into the room with no pants or diaper on, the situation quickly would become less funny when you realize that her cute little bum is covered in poop. Also, sometimes this situation could happen about the same time that your little niece pees on your floor in the basement. You would probably be glad that you have a carpet spot cleaner, but you would probably feel frustrated that you have to use it. At least, that's what I think would happen if you were to find yourself in that situation.

The Magic Scepter

Things I thought I read vs. what I really read in the last few days:

10% off Opium Cereals (Optimum Cereals, which I really don't understand anyway)

Happy Father's Day to the best guy I ever married. (Happy Father's Day to the best guy I could have ever married.)

You have cute kids, but we have no idea where they get it. (Nice family pictures!)

It's weird how my brain leaves out letters and whole words sometimes or completely changes the message other times. I am working on seeing the right message, but sometimes it is hard when I still have trouble believing the good things. Maybe I need some of that opium cereal. It's ten percent off, after all. 

Carter: Mom, I know you might be a little embarrassed about this, but I think you forgot to fix your hair today since it's all fuzzy. (I had fixed it.)

Sadie: A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P... Wait. N-O-P? N-O-P? No P? No pee? That's funny! No pee! No pee! No pee or poop! No pee or poop!

We had a little time to wait today, while our driver had some business to attend to, before we could pick Carter up from his basketball camp. Preston and Avery were taking turns playing with this little stick that had a ring on one end. (It's like a hula hoop for one leg and a jump rope for the other leg. You jump over it with your other leg when the stick comes around. I have no idea if you can picture it from that description.) They were able to play with it for about ten minutes before they broke the ring off the stick. Instead of getting upset, they surprised me by saying, "Now it's like two toys! The ring works just like a frisbee, and the stick can be our magic scepter." They spent the next half hour happily playing with the broken toy.

Preston used the "magic scepter" as a cane when he pretended to be an old man. He slowly limped with his back hunched over. He came to me a patted me on the knee. "You know, sonny," he said in a pretty good raspy old man voice, "you can't milk a dead cow. It's just a little advice for you youngsters, something I learned from my father, who learned it from his father before him." 

As we were walking back to our car, Preston said, "That toy was pretty much worthless. We probably shouldn't buy junk like that, but it was really fun anyway." I think it was worth the $4.00, especially because he learned the lesson that cheaply made things often aren't worth wasting our money, but also because they had fun and made the best of their broken toy. I thought we would have instant tears when it broke. It's nice to see my kids starting to grow up.

Carter told me a little about his basketball camp today. He said that they had a few kids who got to do "money shots," where if they made the shots, they got actual money. He was chosen, and he got to shoot from really close up, just to the side of the basket. He said the pressure was just too much with 150 kids and all the coaches watching, and he missed his shot. He said it wasn't as bad as one shot he made during the game. He tried a three point shot, and he said it looked like a little kid shooting because he was so far off. He told me these things while he was laughing, which is encouraging. I'm glad to see that he doesn't take things too seriously and that he can laugh about his mistakes.

Sadie did not act mature like my other kids. She acted like a two-year-old.

Get Thee Behind Me

Right after I posted about how my kids never act like book and movie kids, they changed it up a little. The boys decided to make breakfast for everyone, which included my sister and her three kids. Preston made omelets, I think. Carter made Mickey Mouse pancakes. He looked up a recipe online, used citric acid to make the buttermilk, apparently using WAY more than he needed, according to Preston, who said they were a little sour. He even used chocolate chips for the faces. It must have taken them almost two hours to do everything. The dirty dishes I found included: six mixing bowls, three glass measuring cups, three metal measuring cups, every single measuring spoon we own, two pans, three spatulas, three whisks, and two large spoons. We had no syrup because Carter accidentally broke the syrup jar, so the kids used ridiculous amounts of powdered sugar and cinnamon and sugar to cover up the sour taste. My sister was too chicken to try food cooked by my kids, but all the kids seemed to like it. 

I know it is more than six months away, but I already have anxiety about having church at nine in the morning again. I can barely make it to church at eleven usually, and we somehow slept in and missed it completely last week. We did get back from California at midnight, and we unloaded the car and got kids to bed and didn't make it to bed ourselves until two or three. And here I am writing Saturday night after midnight. Sounds like a good omen for tomorrow's morning, right? (Can I get an "Amen!"? You know, because I'm talking about church...)

At California Adventure, there is this obstacle course and playground area. One part has a spot where you put your hand on a screen to get your "spirit animal." We all laughed at Carter's animal. We said that a skunk was fitting for him lately. When we told my sister about it a few days ago, the kids were all laughing and saying how it fit him because he toots. He said, "I don't do that anymore. That's all behind me now." Everyone laughed because they knew it wasn't true, but nobody laughed about the play on words except for me. Unintentional plays on words are funnier to me than when they are intentional. 

We went on a short date earlier tonight. Before we left, Sadie said, "I don't want you to go because I wih miss you too much! I ahways miss you when you're gone." After we got back, I asked her if she missed us or if she had been okay. She answered, "I was having too much fun to miss you."

I frequently look at real estate, including places that I am pretty sure we would never live. The other day, I was looking at houses in Hawaii with Carter. We looked first at reasonably (for Hawaii) priced homes. After a little while, we started looking at the ridiculously priced homes that are more extravagant than even my dreams. Carter sighed and said, "Ahhh. I really want to be rich someday." I think it was his first realization of what extremely wealthy people live like. Then we had a talk about how there are better ways to use money for good. He seemed to have a good understanding that it would be better to live in a more modest home and give to those less fortunate, even if we ever had money like that. Then, "Okay Mom, let's look at the $30 million dollar house now. It looks awesome!"

This is Serious, Folks!

This is just a small request from me. I love all my friends and family, so I don't want anyone to be offended by this request. The majority of reactions and comments about my life with MS are meant kindly, and I honestly appreciate that, but they pretty much always convey pity or sympathy. It is not the hardest disease to be dealing with, but I already know the difficulties that I have. The pity and sympathy give me the sense that others feel I am incomplete somehow when I can't walk or see, that I am less than when I can do those things. We always try to teach our children that people with sickness or disabilities are not less because they can't do something. When I'm in a wheelchair, strangers frequently speak to me like I am five. I'm glad my friends don't do this!

So, here is the request. If you are able, try to make light of my disease rather than expressing that pity or sympathy that you feel. It is a lifelong disease, and I will pretty much always have some problems, so I can't waste time feeling sorry for myself, and neither should you! I always appreciate a good joke anyway, even if it is at my expense. Plus, I will get enough of the pity from all the people who don't read my blog, which is most of the people I know!

Goofy Did Nosy Nosy

I don't think Sadie gets what her dad does. She keeps talking about "engine ears." 

Sadie's favorite thing at Disneyland was seeing Goofy. She kept talking about how he gave her a hug and did "nosy-nosy" with her, which is an Eskimo kiss. My least favorite thing was when Carter pushed the wheelchair. I didn't need it the whole time, but I didn't have enough energy to walk every day, so after a whole day of walking, I would need to use it the day after. I have thirteen bruises on my shins. One is from Preston crashing me into something. One is from Bill crashing me. The rest are from Carter banging me into things.

I don't have great skin to start out with, but it has been even worse after starting my infusions. They lower my immune system, so it is fairly common for people to see a new breakout of cold sores, which my mouth and chin area was more than happy to accommodate. Then, all afternoon and evening a few days ago, I noticed a sudden-forming giant painful pimple. "Great," I thought, "just one more thing marring my incredible beauty!" I inspected more closely, only to discover that there was a stinger sticking out of it. 

"Poor Little Bunny Foo Foo. He got in way too much trouble," Preston said, as he stroked the rabbit skin. 

Some of Sadie's insults today, said in her most insulting voice, until she had to giggle about the thought of poop:

You peed in your pants. No, you peed in MY pants. You peed in Avie's pants!

You have giant skin! You're a giant skin guy!

YOU have to say sorry to Preston! I don't want to because YOU scratched him to say sorry!

You pooped your pants. You're a poo-poo mommy.

YOU can't have your own chocowate because you're naughty. You're a naughty pants mommy.

People have told both Bill and me so many times that Sadie has the cutest voice ever. We hear it pretty much anytime we are in public or around people. Well, it's a lot cuter since she went swimming on Wednesday night. The chlorine must have irritated her throat because it has been scratchy sounding ever since. Even her tantrums sound cuter!

Books and movies are frequently written with child characters by authors who appear to have never had children or been around children much. I always see kids who are ten times more mature than my kids are, and I feel frustrated. Book kids and movie kids are so responsible. Book kids and movie kids do their chores quickly instead of fighting for hours about something that will take them ten minutes to do. Book kids and movie kids don't spend the whole day talking about bodily functions and scaring their little sisters by pretending to be monsters. They also don't teach the toddler that princesses have pink toot clouds or to say "Winnie the Poop Bear." Book kids and movie kids make their moms breakfast in bed and clean the house as a special surprise. They also don't cry about having to make a Mothers Day card.

Then I see my friends' kids, and I realize that they are only twice as mature as my kids, and I feel a little better. 

Me: Sadie, why are you all wet?

Sadie: Because I am.

Me: How did you get wet?

Sadie: Because I did!

Me: Sadie, get off my foot.

Sadie: Cause it's a swing!

A Sadie train of thought speech that I loved from a few minutes ago:

"Where does Heaveny Father wiv? Does he wiv in church? He does wiv in church. And he wivs in Heaven. I wivved in Heaven when I was born. And I was with you, Mommy! And Ewyse was with me, and her mommy. And we went on a walk together. But her mommy wasn't there. And is her daddy Uncoh Matt? And I was there when I was born. And Heaveny Father was there. And I wearned about songs at church. And you were there! And Daddy! And Presty! And Avie! And Carter, too! And I didn't want Carter to go to scouts today. I wanted him to stay here with me. And I went in the tunnoh with Carter. And we got wet in the sprinkohers. And it was a tunnoh. Do this (meaning for me to tickle her forearms) to my arms now. And my other arm."

Bug Bites and Magnum Infinity Bars

Sadie: I have two bug bites. One is big, but one is wittow. Oh, wook at the wittow one. It's so cute!

Carter made a hot pocket for breakfast the other day. I wish I had taken a picture of his first bite, the moment he realized that it was a meatball one instead of bacon, egg, and cheese. He was so grossed out, then really upset because he had made the hot pocket in the first place because he had woken up late and didn't have much time for breakfast. I think he ended up taking a ziploc bag full of dry cereal with him when his ride got there a minute later.

Sadie woke up this morning because she heard the kids going out the door. She was so upset and cried, "I want Avie! I miss her! I want Carter to come back home! I miss him! I miss Presty!" It was probably worse because she didn't get to see them at all or say goodbye when they left. 

Magnum Infinity Chocolate. Best ice cream bar ever, especially if you like dark chocolate and can't have anything with nuts or corn syrup. Probably the best even if you can have those things.

Yesterday, the kids came home from school at 3:18. I was just waiting for them to come home so I could take a shower because Sadie hadn't cooperated all day to let me sooner. Carter said, "Mom, my Celebration of Learning is today." I asked him when it was. "It's at 4:00." I think I responded with, "Aaaggghhh!" I then called Bill to tell him he had to leave work that second so he could be home in time since I can't drive. I also talked to the nicest lady ever who had offered to pick Carter up so he could be there in time. I then took the fastest shower ever, got dressed, dried my hair so it was mostly straight but damp enough to still be frizzy, put makeup on, and yelled at the kids many times to get themselves ready. We were ready and waiting in the car at 3:50 when Bill got home. I know other people might not think that it sounds like a miracle, but to a lady who usually has to take breaks between each little thing when getting ready, it sure felt like a miracle. I may not have done anything else that night after we got home. And I may not have been up to getting out of bed much today, including for Avery's Celebration of Learning. I promise I love all my kids equally, even if I do not go to their different events equally. 

And here is my usual getting ready schedule: Shower. (Take a bath if I am too tired to stand long enough for a shower.) Rest for an hour or two. Dry my hair. Rest for twenty minutes. Scrounge up some chocolate. Put half of my makeup on. Rest for ten minutes. Finish my makeup. Rest again. Realize what a bad job I do on my makeup when I can't see out of one eye. Eat some chocolate to feel better about my bad makeup. Feel too worn out after all that work to actually go anywhere. Eat more chocolate. (We have church at 11:00 right now, and it is really hard for me to make it on time. Luckily, pretty much anything else I would be getting ready for is in the evening, and it's rare to go anywhere because people don't invite me to many things lately, and our kids don't have that many activities.)

Sadie: Mom, come find me. I'm pwaying hide and seek. I'm on your wegs. Come find me. You can't see me. 

She is not very good at hiding, but she loves it when I find her and tickle her. She also went "tick or treating" all over my house the last few days, which really just involved her dumping out the Costco sized bag of Hi Chew candies and putting them all over the house in different containers. I have found them in her tea set, in her doll bed, in a Barbie purse, in a sock, and in three different shoes. Bill found some in her doll carrier and in some little buckets. We've only recovered about half of the bag. I look forward to discovering where the rest is hiding. 

Burps and Superhero Moms

Sadie: My wegs has pokadots on it. See? (Goosebumps)

Sadie: I burped. It was a smaw one. And it was tasty! (She said this one right after breakfast.)

Later that same day...

Sadie: I burped a wittow. It was a big burp, and it was NOT tasty. (Afternoon snacks must not be as sweet as her breakfasts.)

Sadie: Mama, did you burp?

Me: No.

Sadie: Oh, I didn't burp. See? (She waited for some kind of response, but I didn't really know how to answer that.)

Bill: Mommy's a superhero.

Sadie: I'm not a superhero. See? I don't have a cape on. Where's your cape, Mama?

Avery: Mommy's a superhero who just sits in bed.

I'm not a superhero kind of mom. I do have lots of help from other mothers to even be any kind of mom at all. Thank you to all the moms who help me with my kids. Thanks to the moms who drive my kids to school, to different activities, and back and forth to their houses. Thanks to all the moms who let my kids come into their homes to play and for homework projects. Thanks to all the moms who teach my kids at school and at church. Thanks to all the moms who lead scout groups and who help out with extracurricular activities. Thanks to all the moms who have helped me out with meals or cleaning or watching my kids when I have been unable to take care of it all. Thanks to all the moms who are my friend. Thanks to all the moms who give me books to read. Thanks for all the moms of my kids' friends. I appreciate that their friends are being taught to be good people. Thanks for my own mother and my husband's mother. (I laughed that autocorrect changed that to "husband smother" when I accidentally missed a space between the two words.) Thanks for all the mothers who are a good example to me, those who help me want to be a better mother. Thanks for everything you do to help me be a mother. I have a deep appreciation to all of you and to God for blessing me with all these amazing mothers in my life. 

Picnic Pillows

Sadie: My hair is aw shiny and cwean. It wooks nice, and it is so soft. (She scrunched her nose up.) Your hair doesn't wook very good, Mommy. It's aw messy.

My nephew brought his dinner plate inside to us. They had been having a picnic in the backyard. "I'm sorry, but I just didn't want to finish all of the pillow. I just don't really like to eat pillows very much." He handed Bill a plate with everything gone except for most of the hot dog pillow, I mean bun...

After their picnic, Sadie and her three year old cousin were kind of disgusting. I gave them a bath together. I heard my niece say, "Hey Sadie! Your bummy matches mine!" Sadie solemnly replied, "Yeah, it does..." 

We are going to Disneyland in less than a month. The first time I measured Sadie, it looked like she was about 39". I was thinking that, with her shoes on, she would be able to ride all the 40" rides. I measured her again and realized she's really only about 38". I started thinking about ways that we could make her appear taller. I even looked at shoes that would make her appear taller. Then I started thinking about why they have the height requirements. I do want her to be safe. I also realized what it would teach my children if they saw me going out of my way to break rules and being dishonest. Once in while, I hate having a conscience. I hope she still has fun missing those rides. Or maybe she will grow an inch before we go, although, if that happens, they won't believe she is under three and should get in free. She is already taller than lots of three year old kids and quite a few four year old kids.

About a week ago, I was trying to explain to Sadie about the rides at Disneyland. Since then, she is sure that there will be "princess bikes" that we will ride. If those are the only rides she expects, it is no wonder she is more excited about the beach.

I made all the kids try on their swim suits to see who needed a bigger size and who would be okay with last year's model. Bill thought it was weird when he came home to four kids wearing swimwear, two of them with multiple suits layered. I am not trying mine on. I will just assume I need a new one even if I have been the same size for two years, which isn't that different from how I have been most of the past nine years.

Sadie somehow loves Baby Bop. She has asked to watch Baby Bop shows almost every day the last month or so. Yesterday, she sighed, "I wish I could go to Baby Bop's schoo. I never went there before. I want to go to her schoo. It has wittow trampoweens." Another sigh as she imagined the joy of going to Baby Bop's pretend school...

Bill does not text me very often. I appreciated the one I got today. "You would laugh so hard if you saw my hair right now." He knows me well. I am very appreciative of funny messy hair. I frequently laugh when I look in the mirror in the morning, especially if I have gone to bed with wet hair. And that's what happened the other day when Sadie commented about my hair.

Junk Mail

I'm so glad I checked my junk email! There were several things that weren't really junk. If I had just let it be automatically deleted after a week, I would have never found out that I had won £850,000 in a contest I never entered! (We can pay off our house early and fund most of our retirement now!) I also wouldn't know about the special natural herb that would help me lose weight eight times faster! I wouldn't have found a cheap Canadian pharmacy where I could order medication for erectile dysfunction! I would have missed out on many other opportunities, like knowing how to have naturally bigger body parts. I don't know which one I should choose. Do I go for the weight loss or the bigger boobs? Maybe I can do both! It's all natural, after all...

Avery and I are teaching ourselves how to play the ukulele. I love how Sadie says ukulele. Ook-uh-way-way.

I am pretty sure that Sadie has had RSV the last couple of days. I felt so glad when she woke up today with a lower fever and almost breathing normally. She also has an appetite again today, which is great. I have already given her two breakfasts and two large snacks, and she is ready for an early lunch. And she is back to spending all her time in the big black bin, pretending it is a boat or a house or a baby tiger cage. The baby tiger talks. Now she has it upside down on top of her. She flipped it over on its side and wants me to roll her in it. Nope, it's already a big drum again. And the one inch high book she got to use as a step stool made a big difference as she climbed on top of it for a bumpy ride. Way up there in the sky now. I almost miss the sicker cuddly girl from yesterday...

If only I had enough energy to keep up with her! 

Preston made his car for the pinewood derby tonight. He made a purple Minion. He glued some fuzzy "hair" on the top, even though he knew it would slow his car down a little. He said he just wanted to have fun, and he doesn't care if he wins. Bill made Preston do it himself except part of the cutting with some tool that Bill didn't feel was was safe enough for a kid to use even with help. Our kids never have the fanciest cars since they have to design and make the cars mostly by themselves. Carter did win one year, despite having a car that was clearly made by a kid...

Carter built a Geiger counter and made a presentation about it for his class. I hope it helps make up for some of the work he completed but didn't turn in. He loses everything! The last slide of his presentation about how the Geiger counter detects radiation had the song "Radioactive" on it. Funny dude.

Sadie: I wuv you! (Then she squeezed my feet.)

Me: What are you talking about?

Sadie: I just wuv your toes so much! Hi, toes. Do you wanna pway with me? Yeah, I do. Okay, wet's pway, toes. Okay. (Every time my toes "talked," they had a super high pitched voice, and she would talk in her normal voice to the toes.)

Easily Embarrassed

I get embarrassed easily. Many times I later realize that my embarrassment was ridiculous. (Remember that I was embarrassed to be standing by a cactus when I was in kindergarten or first grade.) Other times, I feel my face flush when I am just thinking about a past action or extremely stupid thing I said, even years later. (I would give you an example here, but I am too embarrassed about the things that continually come to mind.) 

I have been reading lots of articles and Facebook status updates and blog posts the past few days, all regarding Easter and the Atonement of our Savior, Jesus Christ. One blog post in particular, stood out to me. It was a very bold declaration of his faith. It brought to my mind the admonition to "stand as a witness of God at all times and in all things and in all places." I believe in the importance of being that witness, but I have never been very good at actually doing it. I am not bold. 

I know that my fear of sharing my beliefs began as a child, living in a place where my siblings and I were the only members of our faith in our school. Some kids made fun of me. Others were not allowed to play with us because of our religion. I began to avoid all topic of religion. I was embarrassed about my faith, even though I had a testimony in my heart at a very young age that it was true. Even as an adult, I have felt some of that fear and embarrassment. It is hard to outgrow.

One thing that I later realized is that I was never embarrassed about my actual beliefs. Most people who actually study and pray will learn that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is true and that it can bless their lives. I feel no shame in that faith. I felt more embarrassed, imagining what they thought about me and about my religion. I knew many of the lies that they had been taught in their churches regarding my religion. The other kids would talk openly about it to me. I was embarrassed that they thought bad things about my church. How silly of me to be embarrassed that other people's preachers taught them things that were not true! How stupid of me not to proclaim my faith so that they knew the truth instead of the lies! I realize now that their misconceptions should have had no bearing on my willingness to share the Gospel. It's hard to realize things like that when I am busy being embarrassed.

At least now I have too many valid things to be embarrassed about to worry about the invalid reasons. My kid ate almost nothing but candy today. I can only walk through my bedroom if I stay along the straight and narrow path between all the papers and laundry and the luggage left over from the last trip I went on. My kid played a whole Bach minuet with weird three inch paper claw things on his fingers and a big black cape on. I sang Phantom of the Opera songs with him after that, very loudly. The windows were wide open, and it was nice out, so lots of neighbors probably heard me. I also ate very little other than candy today. 

All actual valid reasons to be embarrassed, right? 

Darn Ninja

Sadie kept kicking me in my injured shoulder. Her explanations:  "I'm sorry! I was doing a baway on your arm." (Ballet) Then, when she did it a few seconds later, "I was just doing a ninja on your arm. I was being a ninja. Do you want me to do another ninja? Do you?" I didn't.

Sadie frequently has these kinds of conversations. I wrote the next one as she was saying the weird stuff. She was still going for a long time, but she stole one of my hands, so I quit recording the conversation because it was hard to type with one hand. 

Sadie: Wook at this. It's a darn?

Me: What's a darn?

Sadie: It's a darn darn darn. It's a darn poop! (Giggle) It's a darn poop on the swide! It's a darn poop poop poop. I can't put my ehbow up! I can't put my ehbow up! Oh yeah, I can. We should go get the maioh again. We should. I'm asweep. Honk shoo. Oh, now it's breakfast time. See my toesies? See them? They are right here! See my toes darn. See them died. My other toes died. And my hands. See it? Argh. This is garbage. Cuddoh up. I wih, Mommy. Oh no! Where's my bread? Cwosed and open and cwosed. It's gone. Poor behwy. See, my behwy's wost. My behwy's wost! It disappeared. I wih NEVER get my bread. Never get my behwy. I wih sweep on you, Mom. It's okay. I'm gonna feeoh you. I'm gonna feeoh your hand. Fingers go home. Never wost again. Never wost again again. It's okay, I can do that, finger. You can go home and have a daddy dinner. 

I don't know how her little mind works, but I love listening to her. And now she has a little piece of wrapping paper and is telling me that she's trying to make something. It's hard to keep up with her. "Surprise! It's a present! It's for you. I found you this present. You can open it up. See? See, I opened it up. Mommy, I'm trying to fix this. Now it's a party hat. Happy Birthday! It's your happy birthday." And she's going again. 

Sneeze Booms

I told my sister and mom that Preston had been eating so much the last few weeks and that he would probably have a big growth spurt soon. He responded, "I will not! That's mean to say, Mom." I asked how it could be a mean thing to say he was about to grow a lot. He started to laugh. "I thought you said I was going to have a BIG GROSS BURP instead of a big growth spurt!" (It was a pants of doom moment.)

Preston stayed home from school because he was sick. Sadie has loved having him here. "Preston is a farm cat. No, he's a waggiwy taiow woof woof. No, he's a wady bug, not a occopus."

Sadie also said, "I sneezed a funny sound. I did a sneeze boom!"

The first thing Sadie asked for this morning was black licorice. 

We went up to my sister's house for the weekend so Bill could help her husband put their new play set together. It was really awesome on the way home. First, we stopped for dinner. The first place we went to was randomly closed that day. The next place ended up taking us almost two hours. It was already bedtime before we even started driving. About a minute after we started driving, Sadie threw up all over. We stopped and cleaned it up. I was outside, trying to get something out of the back of the car for her when I knocked myself out for a few seconds by hitting my head really hard. (I'm guessing that was why I woke up with a really bad headache the next day.) We finally got everything in order and started driving again. About twenty minutes later, she did it again. We stopped at the next exit and cleaned her up. About ten minutes later, Avery started crying because she had to go potty really badly. We drove another ten or fifteen minutes until we found a place. We still had to drop my mom off at my other sister's house on the way home. (For some reason, she didn't want to sleep at our house when we had a kid throwing up.) And that's how our hour and a half drive home turned into over five hours. And we still had to bathe a kid covered in vomit and take the car seat apart to wash it. It was awesome. And Bill wasn't feeling great that whole time, and I could barely walk, so it was hard for me to help out much when we got home. 

At my sister's house, Sadie wanted ice in her water. She kept getting upset when the ice would disappear a minute later. "I need another piece! Someone stow my piece! It's aw gone!" I tried to explain about how ice melts and turns into water, but she didn't get it.

We thought after Sadie and her cousin got in huge trouble a week ago for coloring all over themselves and the house with markers that she wouldn't do it anymore. Wrong. Then next day, she drew on the wall downstairs with a sharpie. Last night, she drew all over her little play house and her whole body with a blue marker. We thought we had thrown them all away, but I guess we missed one. It didn't wash off in the bath, so she is a mess. She knew she was being naughty. Even as she was discovered, she started saying, "We ony cowor on paper with crayons. We ony cowor on paper." 

Proof That I Have a Two-year-old

I can't believe I actually cried tonight when I first saw the completed transformation from the crib to the toddler bed. I am a crybaby. Not the superhero kind.

Sadie hated the choir that was visiting our church a few weeks ago. She kept yelling, "Stop it! I don't wike it! I don't wike that song! Don't sing it!" She especially hated it when they started singing loudly. Bill had to take her out of the chapel several times. On her way out, she yelled, "I don't want you, Daddy!" Then, when he brought her back in, thinking she would be calm enough to not distract from the meeting, she said, "No! I don't want to sit by Mommy!" Everyone is going to be fighting to sit next to us next week.

Sadie wanted to call her cousin for several days. "Mommy, I NEED to caw Ruby!" She told me this several times. I asked her what she wanted to say that was so important. "I need to tehw Ruby that she weft one of her diapers here!" 

Sadie had been telling me that her tummy hurt all morning. She started doing the weird cry that indicates vomit is coming. All kids do the same weird cry. I got up to try to get her a bowl, but I wasn't fast enough. Grape juice all over my white sheets, etc. She was freaking out because she didn't know what happened. "Mommy, I burped. I burped a wot. It's aw messy." 

I feel sick anytime someone else in my family has any kind of stomach problems. I am very open to suggestion. Apparently, even writing about it has the same effect. It really was sad and disgusting. 

Sadie had just been introduced to the story of Little Red Riding Hood. Later that day, as I rocked her, trying to help her calm down enough for a nap, she looked up at me and said, "Mommy, what pretty big eyewashes you have."

Sadie: I'm the guy who tehws you about Bath. Once upon a time, there was a wittow girro named Bath. And she bath bath bath. Do you wike that story? Do you? Do you wike it? 

Sadie: You wike this sippy cup? You do? Because this is a kitty. Because that sippy cup has a princess on it. It's okay, kitty. I can pet you.

Sadie: Are you wooking for the monster, Mommy? It's right here, under the bwankee. See? It's my toes! See? My toes is a monster.

I don't have any idea what set the tantrum off. I only know I made it way worse. She was just screaming and sobbing for no apparent reason, and something about her pathetic self struck me as funny. I giggled. Then, "Stop waffing, Mommy! Don't waff!" I laughed a little harder. "Stop, Mommy! Don't wook at me! I don't want you, Mommy!" The more she told me to stop, the more I laughed. I knew it was really upsetting her, but I could not stop laughing. I finally hobbled into another room and started practicing a song, trying to stop laughing. She followed me, sobbing, "Don't pway that song, Mommy! I don't wike your music!" She hit my hands a few times. "Don't pway! I want you." Then she just let me hold her like she had never been mad at me. Two is my favorite and my least favorite age at the same time.

She asked me to sing to her the other night. "Sing 'I Am a Child of God'." I complied. She sighed, "I wuv Heaveny Father. He ahways hodes me." Awww. "He ahways eats dinner at our house." I told her that he didn't eat dinner at our house. "Oh. He eats dinner at his house? He does? He does eat dinner at his house?" I told her that he lives in Heaven. "Oh. His house is at Heaven? It is? It is at Heaven? He ahways hodes me. Heaveny Father wuvs me. And Jesus wuvs me. And my friends wuv me. Do they? Do my friends wuv me? I wike Sawyer. Does Beckett wuv me? He has a grammy. I pwayed at their house. And I wuv Annie and Ewi. And Wizzy and Tywer. And I wuv Baby Ivy."

I just barely got why it's called the pinewood derby. Pine. Wood. I'm kind of a genius to figure that out at such a young age.

My Kid Beating Me Up

I had a couple of extra kids at my house yesterday. My favorite comment of the day, one that I desperately wished I knew the context of, was made by the five year old boy. "Sadie, you're my last girlfriend because all the other ones...DIED!" Sadie responded, "Okay."

I also enjoyed the three year old girl wearing a princess dress and an Albert Einstein wig for over an hour. I wish I had taken a picture.

I'm glad my face doesn't bruise easily like my legs do. Hopefully, I won't get two black eyes and a giant bruise across my nose. Sadie just hit me harder than I have ever been hit before in my life. I can't believe I didn't get knocked out. And I can't believe such a little person can cause so much pain. I screamed when it happened, and it freaked her out. She ran out, crying, "I don't want you, Mommy!" She NEVER plays by herself, but she has been for the last ten minutes because she is so upset with me for getting upset when she whacked me.

Last night, I said something about how I had always thought that cartoons showing people with tears shooting out of their eyes horizontally were fake until I saw Preston cry. If he is crying hard, you can see tears flying out of his eyes, even from the back. It's so weird. Carter said, "Maybe we should make a comic book about a super hero who shoots tears at the bad guys. He could be called Cry Baby. Do you think anyone would like that idea? I mean, would a company pay me for that idea?"

I have finally come to terms with not finishing school. It no longer bothers me. I realized that I have taken more than enough credits to graduate with a Bachelor's degree. Finishing the last three required classes will not make me more educated. They are not at all useful for my life. Not in any way. They might give me the official paper, but that doesn't really do me any good anymore. I can't ever really work a regular job because of my health issues, so the only real good that would come out of graduating would be for my own sense of accomplishment. 

And I finally don't feel like I need to do it. I have been stressed about it for the last eleven years. It didn't help that several people pressured me so much that I felt like a failure for not graduating. Nevermind that I have been doing more important work, raising incredibly difficult and busy children, trying to teach them to be good people who contribute to society, hoping that someday they will actually like each other. I have always known that it was a more important work, but I still felt that stress of not completing what I was expected to do. I felt unequal to my educated husband, and I was many times pressured because of his incredible genius and education. Luckily, he was never the one pressuring me or making me feel unequal. He always seemed to be happy with who I was and who I am now. I appreciate that acceptance. 

And that acceptance was not like, "She is less than I wanted her to be, but I guess I'll accept her anyway." His acceptance of me has been, "I love her, and she is intelligent and actually knows how to spell things even if she is not an awesome rocket scientist like me. I don't want her to be like me. I want her to be her own person, one who makes up stories and songs about closets and green buttons and a little girl named Daddy just because the two-year-old asks for them. I want her to be happy. She is not less than I am because she is different. She makes me greater because she is different."

He hasn't actually said those things...because those are way too many words to come out of his mouth in one sitting. He does show me that he loves me the way I am, and I appreciate it. He hasn't complained about all the extra things that he has to do when I am unable to take care of the children and the house as well as I would like. He does seem exhausted, and I can't imagine what it would do to him to have even more to do if I were to take classes. He would be happy for me to finish school if it was something that I wanted to do, and he would watch the kids and do more of the cooking than he already does and all the other housework that would need to be done while I was busy studying. He wouldn't complain about it. He is awesome like that.