Please and thank you

We've been trying to teach the boys to use please and thank you. Before Scott was really talking, we taught him a few signs and one was thank you. He makes a fist and rubs it in a circle over his heart.

At the dinner table recently, Scott said, "I want that" and pointed at something (I forget what). "Say please," we instructed him. He willings made the sign, rubbing his fist over his heart. "Say it with your mouth," encouraged Mr M, expecting to hear a little voice say, "Please."

Scott did the best he could - he took his fist and rubbed it over his lips. We laughed and laughed and did give him what he had been asking for:) Kids are so literal.

First recital

Mr. E and his teacher are singing The Rest Position Song. The lyrics are

Rest position: feet in line,
Scroll out front - that's mighty fine.
Check your bridge, 'cause it should be
Peeking out at you and me.
Now it's time to take a bow.
Ichi ni and san is how.

The boys

Great recipe site: Recipething.com

I don't know about you all, but I have tried a whole lot of different online recipe sites and never been quite satisfied. Today, thanks to my good friends Nick & Kathryn, I have found the answer to all my recipe woes: recipething.com. I love it.

Here are just a few reasons I love recipething:

1. It's free.

2. They don't ask for all my personal info when I register. Just a log-in name, an email address, and a password.

3. The layout is simple and uncluttered.

4. There are no ads flashing around.

5. I can add my own recipes.

6. I can categorize (tag) my recipes with multiple tags, like food storage, breakfast, easy, etc.

6. I can pull recipes from their site into my recipe box.

7. When I pull in recipes to my box, I can modify them! (love it)

8. There is a menu planner that is easy to use and fast.

9. I can keep track of the items that are always in my pantry, usually in my pantry, and not usually in my pantry.

10. With my menu planner and my pantry, I can generate shopping lists that show me what I do and do not have.

11. I can export my recipes to text files.

12. When I pull a recipe into my box, it tells me what I might need to buy and gives me the option to update my pantry with radio buttons - SO EASY!

12. Did I mention that it's free?

Click HERE to check it out, and please, let me know what you think.

Mr. E's first talk

Mr. E was asked to give a talk last week in Primary, after weeks of waiting and wanting to get that special assignment. When DH took him into Primary on Sunday morning, he ran up to the Primary president with a big smile, "Sister Clark! I'm giving a talk today!"

When it was time, he stood up, held his paper up so high his little face was hidden, and began to read in a clear voice: "The scriptures teach us about Jesus Christ. I would like to tell you about how we got the Book of Mormon. When Joseph Smith was 14 years old...."

The room was silent, except for Mr. E's voice. I was so proud. He told the story of Joseph Smith's first vision and got to his last paragraph. And then...

"I have to go peepee right now!" he announced, doing the infamous accompanying dance. DH whisked him out of the room to take care of that. A few minutes later, he ran back in, "I'm ready to finish my talk! I'll start over!"

He didn't start over, but he did finish. It was magnificent!

How to win a daddy's heart

This evening, Mr M was working at the computer. The door was open, but the gate was set up across the doorway to keep small children out. For whatever reason, little S decided he needed to be inside the gate. He was inconsolably crying at the gate and wailing, "Down. DOWN!"

I broke down first and lifted little S over the gate, holding him on my lap. He was NOT content with me and kept crying, "Dad! DAAAAAAAAD!" I set him down and he trotted over to Mr M, looked up at him with tears in his eyes, and said, "Football. I want football. I want football. I want football" over and over until Mr M couldn't ignore him anymore.

Mr M was amazed and delighted and smooched Scottie's head.

Did I mention that he's not quite 18 months? Is this kid going to be a superfan or what? To be fair, I should mention that he had previously watched a football video on his dad's lap, but who knew it had made such an impression.

Yikes.

Superman

Ethan loves his Superman pajamas. He loves them so much that he would wear them all day every day if we let him. He is especially fond of the long red cape that attaches with velcro to his shoulders.

Last night, he came to me in his Superman get-up, needing help to put on the cape.

"Look, Mom, now I'm Superman!" he exclaimed with delight.

Great, I was thinking, I wish Superman did dishes. I just smiled at him and turned to the sink.

A few moments later, I heard a thump and a wail. "MOM!" he cried in a pathetic voice. "I'm not Superman, I'm Ethan, and I hurt my bottom!"

Tree Ladle Picks

One of the things I loved (and still love) about family reunions is hearing my uncle recite Ladle Rat Rotten Hut. Lo and behold, I found out that the very talented author and illustrator, Andrea Steele, lives in my ward and she has done several other stories in this same vein. They are loads of fun and Ethan loves them, too.

Contact lens wearers, beware!

Or rather, be aware.

According to my opthalmologist and emedicinehealth.com (and many other sites), "People who wear contact lenses are at an increased risk of corneal ulcers." Stop right there, you are thinking, what in the world is a corneal ulcer? A corneal ulcer is an open, sometimes infected, sore on your cornea (the clear part of your eye that covers the iris or colored part). Mine was diagnosed yesterday after enduring a night and morning of a very sore, red eye which especially hurt when exposed to light or when changing focus - so basically all the time:)

Before the opthalmologist even looked into my eye, he asked me if I wore contact lenses. When I told him that I wore the kind that allowed for 30 days and nights of continuous wear, he looked very concerned. "When those things came out on the market, I was yelling at the tv," he explained. "I have seen so many problems come directly from those lenses." "Well, I don't usually wear them that long," I protested. "I usually take them out at least one night a week." Then, he looked into my eye, and said, "That's it. That's what's causing your problems. A corneal ulcer."

Corneal ulcers are very serious. If left untreated, they can cause permanent vision damange or even blindness in only 24-48 hours. Yikes! I am a very lucky girl (also blessed) that although my ulcer was wildly infected, it is peripheral and will not affect my vision. There will, however, be a scar visible to someone who looks closely at my eye. The doctor prescribed agressive antibiotic treatment so I have 1 set of drops every 2 hours, another set 4x daily, and eye ointment that I apply before bed.

You can bet that I came home from the doctor and the pharmacy and looked around online. I'd hever heard of a corneal ulcer, but evidently, they are not uncommon with contact lens wearers.
I asked my opthalmologist why extended wear contacts are on the market if they are so dangerous and he said the average eye-care precriber doesn't see the the problems. (DUH! They aren't qualified to treat eye diseases, so why would someone with a problem go to them?!) He said, and websites concurred that, your risk of corneal ulcerations increases 10-fold when using extended-wear soft contact lenses.

If you wear contact lenses, or especially extended wear contact lenses, be very careful!

• Always wash your hands before handling the lenses. Never use saliva to lubricate your lenses because your mouth contains bacteria that can harm your cornea.


• Remove your lenses from your eyes every evening and carefully clean them. Never use tap water to clean the lenses.


• Never sleep with your contact lenses in your eyes.


• Store the lenses in disinfecting solutions overnight


• Remove your lenses whenever your eyes are irritated and leave them out until your eyes feel better.


• Regularly clean your contact lens case.

Here are symptoms to watch for - if you ever experience these, get your eyes checked out immediately!

• an ache in your eye


• feeling of something in your eye


• pain when looking at light


• lots of tears (lacrimation)


• swollen eye


• pus or discharge from your eye


• a white round spot on the cornea that is visible with the naked eye (that means the ulcer is very large)

Mitt Romney, Presidential candidate?

Here's a site dedicated to promoting Mitt Romney as THE Republican candidate. There is some very interesting information there. Check it out, if you're so inclined.

Another MUST read: "What Shamu taught me about a happy marriage"

I know, I should rename this blog "Mrs M's favorite articles from the New York Times". Anyway, this one has great ideas on training husbands and kids and made me genuinely laugh out loud. Enjoy!

a little news

My husband was sustained as bishop of our ward this week. We would certainly be grateful for prayers on behalf of our family and our ward.

Warning labels on formula?? Breast is best, says article

There's an article in the NY Times today called Breast Feed or Else. It suggests that the body of evidence supporting breast feeding has grown so large that it's not just healthy to breastfeed, it's risky NOT to breastfeed. You may have to register to read the article, but it is worth reading.

Here's a paragraph touting some of the benefits of breastfeeding:

Ample scientific evidence supports the contention that breast-fed babies are less vulnerable to acute infectious diseases, including respiratory and gastrointestinal infections, experts say. Some studies also suggest that breast-fed babies are at lower risk for sudden infant death syndrome and serious chronic diseases later in life, including asthma, diabetes, leukemia and some forms of lymphoma, according to the American Academy of Pediatrics.

Research on premature babies has even found that those given breast milk scored higher on I.Q. tests than those who were bottle-fed.

The article also mentions health benefits to mothers who breastfeed:

According to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, extended breast-feeding reduces the risk of ovarian cancer and breast cancer. New studies have also found that women who breast-feed face a lower risk of adult-onset or Type 2 diabetes, and they seem to be at lower risk for osteoporosis later in life.

Immediately after childbirth, nursing accelerates healing by reducing the amount of bleeding and causing the uterus to contract more rapidly back to its normal size. Making milk burns up to 500 extra calories a day, so nursing mothers get help shedding extra pounds from pregnancy, experts say, especially if they nurse for an extended period.

Experts say lactation also seems to have a calming effect on the mother, which may be an adaptive mechanism to ease the transition to life with a new baby. Every time a mother nurses, she gets a spike in oxytocin, which may have an antianxiety effect and help promote bonding with the new baby, said Kathryn G. Dewey, a professor of nutrition at the University of California, Davis, and an expert on breast-feeding.

Should there be warning labels on formula, as the article suggests? The proposed text for these labels is something like

The Department of Health and Human services has determined that "breast-feeding is the ideal method of feeding and nurturing infants."

or

The Department of Health and Human services has determined that"breast milk is more beneficial to infants than infant formula."

What do you think? The evidence is overwhelmingly in favor of breastfeeding, but I'm not sure warning labels on formula are the way to encourage breastfeeding. A public education campaign certainly needs to accompany it, and ob-gyns need to continue emphasizing the health benefits of breastfeeding (and the risks of not doing so).

We made it!

I've been on an extended hiatus from real life. The boys and I went to beautiful, green MN, where my parents live. For 5 days, I attended the SAA 12th Biennial Conference in downtown Minneapolis and the boys stayed with my parents. What a treat! My focus was the Suzuki Early Childhood Education teacher training offered by Dorothy Jones. It was strengthening and enriching to be completely immersed in a Suzuki environment. I feel much more a part of the Suzuki community rather than 1 little teacher, teaching in a little studio.

After the conference ended, I joined the boys at my parents' home. They were so happy to run in the backyard and play with the neighbor kids and dig in the sandbox and blow bubbles on the porch and jump on the mini-trampoline and eat lunch outside on the deck and play in puddles in the cul-de-sac. It was a great break from urban, apartment life, where I never let them outside without close supervision.

All vacations come to an end, and we came home yesterday. It was 12 hours of travel. 90 minute drive to airport, then flights home through various large airports: Minneapolis, Chicago O'Hare, Las Vegas, and LAX. Picture it: me, 1 year old, 3 year old, my violin, my emergency carry on with clothes for all in case of who knows what, and 3 y.o.'s carry-on with food and distractions. We definitely had a few moments that were, uh, not worth reliving now. BUT, on the whole, it was a very positive travel experience. The man sitting next to us on the longest leg (3.5 hrs) was very helpful and accomodating and kept track of my youngest while I helped 3 y.o. in the bathroom. (As a side note, you can fit at least 3 people in those tiny airplane bathrooms if 2 of them under 4. Possibly more - has anyone tried more?)

Now we're happily home. We got up at 5:30 am, but the boys are napping now and I'm catching up on important things, like bills and blogging. Mr M is glad to have us back, I am quite certain, and we are very happy to be home. And now, on with real life!

Mormon Monastery

Here's a link to a new website that is a wonderful resource for studying the Gospel, Mormon Monastery. I am really looking forward to studying the temple pages. Check it out! I have added a permanent link on the sidebar.

If the cup fits...

My life is better thanks to Nordstrom. Yesterday, I visited a Certified Fit Specialist in the lingerie department and got fitted for a bra. Like 80% of women (according to Nordstrom), I was wearing the wrong size. The WAY wrong size. My new size is down two band sizes and up a cup. I feel comfortable, I look great, and I'm happy.

I think this was my first visit to Nordstrom. I was awed that it was just a Tuesday and there was live piano music floating up from the first floor near the escalator. They even piped it in to the dressing rooms.

My Specialist was friendly, professional, didn't bat an eye about the "t-shirt" under my bra, and didn't push any merchandise on me. I did, however, shell out the price of a week's worth of groceries for one bra - $62 with tax. But, I'm worth it! We all are!

Thank you, Nordstrom, and thank you to my MIL who gave me the idea in the first place!

Treasures in Heaven

Tonight for family scripture study, Michael was reading 3 Nephi 13. After the bit about laying up treasures in heaven, I interrupted the reading to ask, "Ethan, how do you think we get treasures in heaven?"

His immediate answer was, "You walk to heaven and then you get the pirate map and then you find the treasure. In the sky and not in the ground."

Orange wagon wheels

Ethan decided that he wanted to cook today. Fortunately, Ethan is into pretend food so we can encourage his culinary talents without having messes to clean up. After rummaging through the pot cupboard, he found an old alumninum pot. He told me the piano bench was a pretend oven and proceeded to cook. Actually, most of our furniture became a pretend oven at some point since Ethan kept moving the pot away from Scott's curious little hands.

All afternoon he served me pretend quesadillas and pretend ham pizza. Of course, I had to praise his excellent cooking skills and commend him on the flavor. After our family dinner (the real one) Ethan decided make us dessert: "pretend orange candies that look like wagon wheels." We had to take his word on it because they were invisible to us.

I told him that I thought they tasted really great... umm... like creamsicles, I guessed.

"Oh," said Mrs. M, "I thought they tasted a little sour."

What are orange candies that look like wagon wheels supposed taste like? We decided to ask the chef.

"Ethan, what does your candy taste like?"

Looking around, he answered thoughtfully, "Hmmm ... mine tastes like ... chicken."

Yum!

You know you've been a grouch when...

My early morning meeting got me home around 9 am. Ethan had a little tantrum when I arrived, but I was ready, thanks to some late night counseling with Mr Moo. I ignored the whining and screaming and picked up the smiling Scottmarshmallow who was toddling around after me: "Hi! Hi! Hi!" It's his word of choice.

Ethan calmed down pretty quickly and came out to the table. Meanwhile, I had written BREATHE on the whiteboard. I offered him a granola bar, since the babysitter mentioned that he had refused breakfast. Low blood sugar is a bad thing at our house. He accepted and asked, "Mom, why are you staying happy today?"

Yikes. 9 am and he is surprised that I haven't flown off the handle by now. I have been really edgy lately. Mr Moo suggested that it could be because I just weaned Scott - maybe that puts hormones in flux. That makes me a weaner and Scott a weanee, I suppose. Bring on the energy! But, back to my point. I knelt down next to Ethan's chair and told him, "Ethan, I need your help today. If you see me getting angry, please pat me on the arm and tell me to breathe."

"Mom, what happens if I tell you to seethe?" he asked.

I explained that seething was being really angry inside and I wanted to be calm and happy. "What happens if I tell you to breathe?" he asked. "Then I breathe like this - in through my nose, out through my mouth - and I feel better." "What happens if you're angry and I tell you to breathe?" "I breathe like this and I feel better."

So far, I haven't needed it. And on my side I've got me, Mr Moo, my prayers, the whiteboard, and Ethan. At the end of the day, I hope to say: "Indeed I have conquered!"

Glamour shots

These photos are inspired by the Wiz. Guess which one is before and which is after. The one good thing is 3 months later, he hasn't needed a haircut yet!

Thank heaven for 3 year olds

A few weeks ago, on a lovely Saturday afternoon, I was out and about with the boys and my mom, who happened to be visiting. As we pulled into our carport, tired and hungry, much to our dismay, we realized that the apartment keys were INSIDE the apartment. Wretched me, I had left them on top of the shoe shelf as we left! While I went to see if there was a way in, Mom stayed in the car with the boys, in case we had to go chase down a spare key from the management company, which would have been dicey seeing that it was a Saturday and they were closed. We couldn't ask the manager for a spare key because WE are the managers. Yikes!

I surveyed the apartment, tried one of the front windows, to no avail. We were doomed to more driving, or so I thought until I came around to the bathroom window. Because I hate steamy bathrooms, the window was open just a crack. It was way over my head and a small window, but I had an idea.

I ran back to the car, shared my idea with Mom and brought Ethan back to the apartment with me. I managed to remove the screen from the bathroom window, push it open wider, and boost Ethan up through the window. He then had to drop down onto the bathroom counter and climb down to the floor, come out to the front door, and unlock it for me.

Things went fine until Ethan was inside the bathroom and out of sight. I heard his wails: "Mom, I don't want to open the door. Mom, I don't want to be in the bathroom. Mom! I want you!" It's hard to comfort a howling 3 year old when it requires outdoing his volume. I'm sure the whole neighborhood heard my shouted pleas: "Ethan, go out to the door. I can't get in unless you unlock the door. Please, Ethan, go open the door! You have to do it by yourself."

All I got was the same wailing from him. I had to give up and go to the front door and knock, hoping that would entice him. (He usually runs to fling open the door if anyone knocks, a somewhat dangerous practice I'm trying to eliminate.) Finally, after 10 minutes of his crying and my knocking, he unlocked the door and we were home again. When we recounted all to Mr Moo later that evening, he was duly impressed with Ethan's successful implementation of my break-in idea. Which bring me to the title of this post - thank heaven for 3 year olds!

A plain peanut butter sandwich

At lunch today, Ethan requested "a plain peanut butter sandwich".

"You mean, one with creamy peanut butter as opposed to chunky?" I sought confirmation because as everyone knows, a hungry 3 year old who doesn't get his order is likely to enter tantrum mode.

"No, I want a piece of bread folded like this." Here, he showed me by holding his hands out flat next to each other like an open book and then closing them together.

"You mean you want a piece of bread?"

Almost indignant: "No, NOT a piece of bread, a plain peanut butter sandwich!" The unspoken words were Mom, how could you think I meant that?!

I gave him a piece of bread, folded it as per his instructions, and handed it over. Plain peanut butter sandwich, indeed! Where does the peanut butter come in? I'm still wondering.

Wanted: A Few Good Comments

I am really curious to hear what you all think about this article from the NY Times that I read today: Wanted: A Few Good Sperm. It's about single women who choose to have children via sperm donors. You might need to create a login to read it. It's a lengthy article, but it is fascinating.

My first reaction was my gut screaming at me that this was wrong, wrong, WRONG! It's another evidence of family disintegration and the objectification of children. Firstly, I would never ever in a million years want to be a single mother. I find parenthood plenty challenging with two of us on deck. I would go nuts if it was just me! Not to mention the numerous moral (or immoral) issues here.

Eventually, I settled down enough to ask myself, "But what if I were single and I really, really, really wanted to experience pregnancy and have children?" I still wouldn't do it. I believe there is a requisite sequence that is being totally disregarded - marriage FIRST, (then physical intimacy,) THEN children.

I am really interested in hearing other comments on this article, though. Please share, even if you don't usually comment here. It's ok to disagree, as long as we can be civil about it.

Gaël's mailing address and update

Many people have expressed an interest in being able to contact Gaël. For now, he is in Room 311 of the University of Utah hospital. The address is:

50 North Medical Drive
Salt Lake City, UT 84132-1306
Room 311

Everything should be addressed with Gaël's first and last name just in case he changes rooms.

The most recent report I've heard, from someone who saw him Friday, is that he is tired, but doing as well as could be expected. He really appreciates everything everyone has done for him and the good thoughts
that are being sent to him from afar.

On Monday, March 13th from 7:30 - 9 pm, there will be an organizational meeting for coordinating a large-scale fundraising raffle for Gaël located at HSEB 1700. This information came from the UMed calendar.

Update on Gaël

Note: I am getting my updates from the University of Utah Medical Student website.

Click here here for a video from KUTV about Gaël, featuring Gaël. You may have to search for it by title "French Medical Student Paralyzed after Utah Snowboarding Accident."

Besides making donations to the fund in Gaël's name on Zion's Bank, you may also make a tax deductible donation online at CHARITYSMITH. All proceeds from the General Fund will go to Gaël. CHARITYSMITH is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit foundation based in Squaw Valley, California. For check donations please make checks payable to

CHARITYSMITH
Post Office Box 3771
Olympic Valley, California 96146

Indicate that the donation is for the Gaël Yonnet Fund. Receipt of donation will be sent by mail.

Gaël Yonnet needs our help

On Saturday, March 4th, life changed instantly and dramatically for Gaël when he was paralyzed in a snowboarding accident while competing at Snowbird. Here is an article from the Deseret News this morning and a much better one here from the Salt Lake tribune.

The Deseret News article doesn't convey much of Gaël's sparkle. I'll grant that he may not feel much sparkle right now. This directory page from the BYU foreign language housing provides a glimpse of Gaël's humor. I experienced a taste of it working with him briefly at the MTC in Provo, making movies for French TALL.

A native of Bordeaux, France, Gaël moved to Utah 11 years ago to pursue his dream of becoming a physician. He began his education at Salt Lake Community College and finished at BYU, earning a bachelor's degree in neuroscience. His charisma, love for life, and sense of humor have touched many lives. These qualities won him the affection of his fellow medical school classmates and the position of class president. Upon completing his training, Gaël had hoped to practice neurology in Salt Lake City.

Dr. and Mrs. Fred and Shirley Langeland have served as Gaël’s host family during his time in Salt Lake City and have been a great support to him. Gaël has financed his education on his own through private loans. His medical and rehabilitation costs will incur a substantial financial burden.

Gaël intends to continue to pursue his dream of becoming a physician. To lessen the financial strain and help him achieve his goal, a fund has been established at Zion's Bank in Gael's name. If you wish to contribute, you may either go in person to any branch of Zion's bank or mail a check to any branch of Zion's Bank. Tell them it is for the Gael Yonnet fund and they will deposit your contribution. This link will take you to a branch locator.

Updates on Gaël will be at the University of Utah Medical Student website.

Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Gaël.

Check your vocab

Special thanks to Dave for these great words! I will see if I can work any in to my blogging, you know, real casual like:

"When I glimpsed the gormless man's excrescence, I could not keep myself from ululating, causing the halcyon moment to scarper. "What kismet!" came my louche thought."

Great jape!

"Return of the Happy Housewife"

I take my title from an article in the Los Angeles Times this past Sunday. It is a welcome change to read something published in a mainstream medium that backs up the teachings of the Gospel.

The article reports on a study done by two University of Virginia sociologists which concludes that the happiest married women are those who do not work outside the home and whose husband is the primary breadwinner. Check out the article here for stats!

Also, the article says that "the key to marital happiness isn't splitting household chores and child care down the middle... It's much simpler: an affectionate and appreciative husband who believes, along with his wife, that marriage is forever. Sociologists call it "emotion work" — husbands talking to their wives, being understanding and supportive, spending quality time in the form of romantic evenings for two, walking hand-in-hand on the beach and so forth."

Hats off to Mr. Moo, for making me a happy, married woman!

I love BYU TV

I really and truly do. We do not own a television, but we do have a computer and highspeed internet. (We switched to highspeed fairly recently, and I think it's safe to say we will never go back to dial-up.) BYU-TV is available online and, even better, besides being able to watch live, it is available on demand. That means that if there is a great show scheduled for 2 am, that I can watch it at whatever time I want. It also means that if if my 3 year old has to go to the bathroom during General Conference, I can pause and not miss a thing.

This morning, as we were getting ready for church, we turned on Music and the Spoken Word. I grew up listening to this piped through our house on Sunday morning, and it brings a Sabbath feeling to my heart. This particular program (Sunday, March 6) featured some of my favorite music, including Rejoice, the Lord is King, several numbers from Mendelssohn's Oratorio, and the great organ piece, the Prince of Denmark's March.

The best of all was the number right after the Spoken Word, Highland Cathedral, a Scottish number complete with bagpipers in full dress. The majesty and power of bagpipers with full orchestra and choir joining in was overwhelming.

If you have never watched BYU-TV, I urge you to check it out. I invite you to find Music and the Spoken Word from this morning and watch the whole program. If you have a pulse, this program will move you.

Open BYU-TV in internet explorer and use the red on demand button at the side to find this morning's program of Music and the Spoken Word. You will not be disappointed.

Last Sunday....

...on the way to church, we stopped at a redlight. In front of us stooped a little old lady, bent over her walker and slowly crossing the road.

Ethan: Why is that lady bending over?
Mr. Moo: She has some back problems.
Mrs. Moo: She's old.
Ethan: Why is she old?
Mr. Moo: Because she didn't die.
Ethan: Oh. (pause) I'm NEW!

Mr. Moo, I love you!

Ethan sings Latter-day Prophets to Scott

I just want the record to note that I don't just teach my son the names of BYU football players (see earlier post).

Total prophet names memorized: 15
Total football player names memorized: 5

As long as he can keep the lists separate I'll feel ok about myself.

-DH

Video Blog

Ok this is really old footage but I finally got around to digitizing it. I expect that I'll post again later. This is Scott's first time in the exersaucer.
-DH

DH, posting here for the first time! Welcome!

Ethan loves football. He insists on taking his nerf football to the park every time we go. He also gets into my BYU sports magazines and spends quite a bit of time looking at the pictures and saying intelligent things like, "There's John Beck" (BYU's quarterback) or "Look, he's running the football." I have a strange combination of shame and pride in reporting that my 3 year old can tell you that Bronco Mendenhall is the head coach for BYU football and name the major players on the team.

You can imagine my great delight in finding out that the local cougar club chapter was sponsoring a free brunch with Bronco Mendenhall as the speaker before the 2005 season started. Not only that, the invitation encouraged people to bring kids. For the week leading up to the event I was priming Ethan to have one of those moments. The kind you always want to share with other people (translate people as my dad, a fellow BYU superfan) and have the pictures to prove it. Throughout the week, we had the following interchange.

Dad: Who is coming Saturday?
Ethan: Bronco MENDENHALL!!!
Dad: What are you going to say to him when you see him?
Ethan: I will say to him, 'Go BYU!'
Dad: Great, that is a good thing to say.

So the day finally arrives and I pack up the whole family into the car and head to a stake center near LAX. We arrive early and have to wait around for the Coach to arrive. Ethan decides that it is OK to run around in the meantime. I can see no reason to object since the affair was held in the gym.

Bronco arrived about 10 minutes after us. Suddenly, I lose my nerve. Am I just going scoop up Ethan, run up to Bronco, thrust my kid upon him and snap a picture? Should I try to strike up a conversation with him? What could I say? "Uh, Bronco, how do think we will do this year?" That seems too contrived. I keep trying to come up with ways of snapping a picture of Bronco and Ethan together and not look like an overzealous fan. After about 10 minutes of this type of thinking, I decide that I AM an overzealous fan and I might as well accept it. Besides, other people are lining up to see him, and I might lose my shot.

Ethan and I are about 3 people back in line and there are about 10 minutes remaining before he speaks. Unfortunately for us, the lady in front of me is the mother of a high school football player. She keeps asking what it would take for her son to play for the Cougars. I keep looking at my watch, seeing the minutes count down. It becomes clear to me that this lady is not going anywhere. I give up and console myself with this thought: "He'll be here afterwards."

Tom Holmoe, BYU athletic director, speaks first. Ordinarily, I would be interested, but Ethan is starting to squirm. He wants to run again. I tell him that Bronco is going to speak. He insists he doesn't want to sit. He slips away and starts running. Now, this is not one of those new carpeted gyms with the concrete floors, this is an OLD gym, with hardwood floors that echo loudly. People start looking our way. I chase Ethan and pick him up. "This guy is almost done," I tell him and he settles down. Tom winds up. I think I'm in the clear and we return to our seats.

Bronco gets up. I whisper, "Look Ethan, there's Bronco." Ethan could care less at this point. Bronco starts his slides. Ethans start to fuss. People start looking our way. I get the hint and stand up with Ethan, edging towards the door in back. Ethan continues to squirm and make whiny noises. I whisper in his ear, "If you keep making noise like this, we won't be able to listen to Bronco." Ethan responds at the top of his lungs so that all 50 people in attendance and the coach himself can hear. "I DON'T LIKE BRONCO MENDENHALL!" Sigh! I walk out the door, too embarassed to even consider returning afterwards for a photo.

Fast forward a few months to October. Erin and I got to represent our alumni chapter at the general Alumni Association meeting which takes place on BYU campus during Homecoming week. We met some people that looked vaguely familiar.

Erin: "You look familiar, but I can't place you."
Other couple (smiling): "Yeah, I think we've met before."
Erin thinks...
Erin: "Were you at the Bronco event in Los Angeles?"
Other couple: "Yes. Actually we helped organize it."
Erin: "That must be it. We went, too. Michael is a big BYU football fan. He brought us and our little boy."
Other couple: "Oh yeah, we remember you."
Michael turns red. Very red.

This actually brings me to the next part of the story. I learned two lessons from the Bronco experience. First, never get emotionally invested in a staged "moment" with a two-year-old. Second, never bring said two-year-old to BYU Alumni events.

For our meetings over Homecoming, we made sure that we always had a babysitter. This was complicated, but well worth it. We used Erin's brothers, sisters-in-law, a future sister-in-law, my old roommate, my old roommate's sister, even my brother-in-law's wife's brother's girlfriend (thanks, Genevieve). So Ethan was conveniently out of the way for most of the weekend. Convenient until I was enjoying the alumni dinner at the WILK ballroom, when who do I spot enjoying his meal? None other than LAVELL EDWARDS himself! For the football ignorant, Lavell IS BYU football, the person for whom the stadium was named, and a member of the College Football Hall of Fame. This was indeed big. Lavell sat near the back of the ballroom and periodically people would go by his table to shake his hand. Again, I had that how-do-I-act-like-a-groupie-without-looking-like-a-groupie feeling, but I tell myself, "It's for my dad" and wander over to LaVell's table with my digital camera and Erin. I keep thinking that the shot would be so much better with Ethan in it. When I get near Lavell's table, I look down the hall. Lo and behold, I see my old roomate, Dean, bringing back my son from his babysitting shift. I can't believe my good fortune. I call Ethan and he comes running over. This leads to the following exchange:

Me: Hi, Coach Edwards. I just wanted to see if I could get a picture with you and my son. My father is big BYU football fan and if he had a picture of his grandson with you, it would mean a lot to him. OK, I couldn't admit that I really wanted it for myself, but what I said is also true.
Coach Edwards (in a friendly manner): Sure.
Erin (picking up Ethan) : Ethan, do you know who this is?
Ethan shakes his head no.
Erin: It's Coach Edwards. He used to be the BYU football coach.

At this point, Ethan suddenly leans over and gives Lavell a big hug and kisses him on the cheek. Lavell is taken by surprise and get this... HE SMILED. Yes, it was groupie Nirvana. I don't know if Lavell smiled after winning the national championship in '84. But there he was. Not only that... I got the picture to prove it.

Ethan's journal for Thursday, as dictated to Michael

When I was a little boy, I didn't know to play letter games. I just know to be in my crib and cry. And Scott cried when you left and now we have two little boys that swallow seeds.

Today, when I was a little boy I swallowed a seed and choked on it. And Mom said to spit it out but I didn't spit it out and I choked on it. And I leaned my body over and the seed came out. I went aaah aaah ahh.
I also played with toys and I be in my crib when mom left.

Today, I went to the park yesterday. I want to go to the park tomorrow. I would just not be a little boy. I just would be on the ground. I would walk on the ground. At the park I would be in the sand. I would just play on the yellow park and the green park.
Brandon, he came over to play.

Huh. What is this seed story? Michael and I are both confused on that one.

Here comes the sun

Here we are, it's a beautiful Thursday afternoon in sunny southern California. It's so sunny that I am too hot in 3/4 sleeves and jeans. I may have to dig out my capri pants and some short sleeves and start using that razor that hangs out in the shower.

This morning was my last lesson for a while with Liz. I'm recording the first movement of the Mozart Saturday afternoon and I sure hope it's good because I have invested a lot of time and money into preparing for this. Lessons, babysitters, and not to mention my expensive accompanist. Despite the high monetary cost, I feel good. This is a goal I've had for a while and I'm nearing its accomplishment. I'm submitting the recording as part of a teacher training scholarship application AND to get clearance to continue teacher training.

In other news, I finally cleaned out my fridge. It has been on my list (at the bottom!) for months, but it is finally done. The sticky puddle of a substance formerly known as orange juice is now gone from underneath my produce drawers, the shelves are white again, and the whole thing is virtually gleaming. "Fill me," I hear it calling from the kitchen. That's my next project - grocery shopping. Unfortunately, it will have to be postponed because dh just called from school and asked for a ride. He has thrown his back out again. When I spoke with him, he was shuffling across campus, hunched over like an old man. He has done this before. Poor guy. He didn't want to ride the bus for an hour to get home.

Back to the sun. Yesterday I wrote on the whiteboard "Be the sun!" 2 days ago, I remembered a story about a competition between the sun and the wind to remove a man's coat. The wind blew with all of its ferocious might, but the man held his coat tighter around him. When the sun came out, its gentle heat warmed the man and he soon removed his coat. That story reminds me that I want to motivate by gentleness and love, not shouting or threatening or other worse ways. This is Day 2, and it has made such a difference in how I feel about myself and how Ethan responds to me. While I was cleaning out the fridge, Ethan prevented Scott from sticking his finger in the socket and from climbing over the gate, extremely helpful for me. Granted, he still sat on Scott once and hit him on the head with Joseph (from the Fisher Price nativity). But, we are seeing progress.

Learning to control my temper is much more of a challenge than learning to play a violin concerto. Maybe if I think of it this way, it will be easier to deal with setbacks. I spent hours and hours in the last five months practicing, listening to recordings, watching my taped lessons, etc. It will take the same kind of effort to meet this challenge. At this moment, I feel up to the challenge, a little bit like Tracy when she says "I think I can". If she can do it, I can do it, too.

My amazing boy

In Primary yesterday, I wrote the theme for February on the whiteboard: Heavenly Father's plan promises eternal happiness. "Does anyone know what eternal happiness is?" I asked. Ethan (my just-barely-3yo) answered, "It's when you eat the fruit from the tree." It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the tree of life, and I was stunned. He was perfectly right - that is true happiness.

Where did he acquire this knowledge? Last week, Ethan got the Book of Mormon Stories on tape and has listened to them every day at least once all the way through, following along with the pictures. I think it has become his favorite thing to do, even above jumping on the couch.

Tonight for FHE, Michael invited Ethan to give the lesson and tell us where the Book of Mormon came from. Well, Ethan certainly told us. He opened his illustrated Book of Mormon stories and quoted us the first two pages. Verbatim.

I knew he was a smart cookie, but this still amazed me. I wonder what else he knows... I would be interested in hearing from moms and dads out there who have experience raising kids who show early interest and aptitude in reading or other areas.

Glimpses

Last night, Scottieboo calmly and deliberately took 5 steps on his own, surveyed the living room, and then sat down. We were thrilled. He seemed to think it was no big deal. We are waiting for the next steps.

For those who don't get to see Ethan regularly, here is a shot of his new haircut. I think he looks pretty cute.

Parenting

Last night, at 10 pm, Ethan was still not asleep and was wriggling around his bed. "Mom, I need a drink." Ok. I hate being thirsty and I always drink at night, so I bring him a drink. A few minutes later, "Mom, I need to go to the BATHroom." Ok, no problem. Better to use the toilet than wet the bed. I bring him to the bathroom, set him on the toilet, he does his thing, I lift him off, help him get his jammies back up, we wash his hands and dry them. We are done.

Suddenly, tears and shrieks and hollering. "MOM! I NEED TO DRY THE OTHER HAND!" "Ok, go ahead and dry it off," I tell him.
"But I want YOU to do it," he insists.

Here's where the tired and cranky mom kicked in. She refused to help him dry his hand. He is perfectly capable of doing it himself. More shrieks and tears, grouchy mom grabs him and dumps him in his room with the gate up. "Mom, I want to BEEEE with you!" Grouchy mom ignores his request, enters kitchen and contemplates mounds of dirty dishes. After a few minutes, grouchy mom hears little boy talking to her from his bedroom, but she can't understand him because she is listening to glorious Mozart violin concerto #5, attempting to motivate herself to wash dishes. It is Mozart's 250th birthday today, by the way.

So, grouchy mom goes to little boy's room. "Mom, when you do something, you need to say sorry," he says, looking at me. Remorse and denial. "Did I do something?" I ask. "I brought you a drink, I helped you go the bathroom, I helped you wash your hands... and then I got mad." He keeps looking at me, with his big brown eyes and beautiful eyelashes. "I'm sorry," I tell him. "I'm sorry, too," he says. "Can you forgive me?" I ask him. He grins and opens his arms up wide and gives me a squeeze around the neck. We are friends again. When I leave his room, he settles down and goes to sleep.

Parenthood is so frustrating sometimes that you want to rip your hair out and so sweet sometimes that your heart seems to swell and then melt. Is there anything else like it?

Never accept a cell phone shop!

Well, hello. Yes, we are alive here at the Daily Moos. Michael suggested that we might consider changing our name to the Monthly Moos, considering that it has been months since my last post. I feel no remorse and no need to resolve to blog more often. My efforts need to go more towards daily personal study, playing with my boys, keeping the apartment clean, planning meals, eliminating Mount Washmore from the bedroom corner (neatly sorted into boxes and laundry bins, I must insert), practicing violin, recruiting more students, caring for my Primary kids and the Primary board, and the like. Yet, here I am. Thanks for being here with me.

Yesterday I received a menacing bill threatening to go to collections if I didn't pay up. This was completely absurd, but I was nervous. Back in November, on a mystery shop assignment, I bought a cell phone and then returned it about a week later without ever using it. The company was supposed to take care of these non-refundable activation charges. And they had. Several times. Anyway, when I got the bill, I dialed up the cell phone automated customer service line and discovered that my balance was $00.01. Yes, they were threatening to send me to collections over $00.01. "Must be a mistake, " I thought. "It's not even worth making a credit card payment of $00.01 because they pay more in fees to the credit card company then they collect from me."

Then, last night, as we were happily finishing our chicken pot pie around 7:30 pm, the phone rang. My husband answered, looked concerned, punched a number on the phone keypad, and didn't say a word. "What? Who is it?" I pestered him, in a respectfully (tic) quiet voice. I hate not knowing who is on the phone. It was an automated phone call from the cell phone company, threatening again to send us to collections over our past due balance. One measly cent was the balance.

Long story short, we eventually talked to a real live person, who apologized profusely for the inconvenience of the phone call, for the worry it must have caused us, and who took 20 minutes to assure us that after the next billing cycle, the remaining one cent of our balance would be zeroed out and we should call them in the middle of February to confirm that.

Moral of the story: never accept a cell phone shop.