Conversation 1:
Ethan: Mom? You're putting your hair down???
Me: (Taking my hair out of a pony tail) Yes, I am.
Ethan: Yay! I love your hair down! (Clapping follows)
Conversation 2:
Ethan: What are you doing?
Me: Getting the baby clothes ready to take to Auntie Erika. She's going to have a new baby
Ethan: oh! Just like Angela?
Me: Yes. Just like Auntie Angela.
Ethan: Is she going to take her shirt off to get the baby out?
Me: um...yep.
Ethan: Oh, and then put her shirt back on?
Me: Yep.
Don't we all wish it were that simple?
Conversation 3:
Ethan: Mom, I don't want you cleaning all day!
Me: I haven't cleaned for a month, Ethan. I don't want to live in a dirty house all of the time.
Ethan: I do!
Conversation 4:
I want to hear Daddy's heartbeat.
(He puts his head on Brian's chest)
"I can't hear it!"
"Daddy's heart is lost!"
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Family Home Evening Moment
Tonight was our 7th FHE in a row. (we're on a roll!) Usually, it lasts 15 min. (tops!) and our lessons are taken from the nursery lesson book. Tonight it was my turn to teach, and given Ethan was sick all day, I hadn't prepared/reviewed the nursery book. So, I borrowed what our Primary Pres. had taught as sharing time to the junior primary: The First Vision. To begin, we walked all around the room (going to different churches). Then Ethan repeated James 1:5 (as I read it to him), then we were "tall, like the trees in the sacred grove" with our branches waving, and birds were singing, and the sun was shining, the flowers were growing, and it was a beautiful morning. Then we knelt, like Joseph Smith did, and I said to Ethan, "Then it was bright...so so bright" and we shielded our eyes because it was so bright! I asked him, "Ethan, do you know why it was so bright?"
Ethan: Yes
Me: Why?
Ethan: Because Heavenly Father and Jesus came.
Me: Yes, Ethan....that's right! because Heavenly Father and Jesus came.
Tonight was a very special FHE.
Ethan: Yes
Me: Why?
Ethan: Because Heavenly Father and Jesus came.
Me: Yes, Ethan....that's right! because Heavenly Father and Jesus came.
Tonight was a very special FHE.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Tonight I tried something new with Ethan. Over the past little while he's been giving me trouble about eating. If I recalled all of the times, I'm sure I could single out reasons why it happened this one night...and then again on another. Most recently for instance, he's been sick (fever first, then a cough) so I can understnd a loss of appetite. Yesterday he seemed more on the mend and I wanted to fix him a dinner that he would eat (chicken pillows) and get some good protein in his body again. He was excited about it, until we sat down and then he screamed, "I don't want to eat anything!" The tears were bigger and more fake than I've seen in 2 days. I sent him to cry in his room so that Annie and I could eat in peace, and told him when he decided to come eat, dinner would be waiting. I didn't want to wait too long though (why don't they understand that if they only tried it!...they'd forget the fuss!) so I called Brian at work and had him talk to Ethan. Meanwhile, I picked him up and carried him to his chair while he was talking to Brian so that when he hung up, his train of thought would still be focused on eating. Worked like a charm (he even told me as he was eating "This is my favorite, mom." "mmm-hmm" was all I could say, I was so frustrated.)
Tonight I couldn't pinpoint a reason for his definance, other than that he's been able to do it before...and I felt a 'test' coming on. We were playing outside and I lost track of time, so when I looked at the clock and it said 5:15pm, I knew dinner had to be fast. (Why can't my kids like/eat spaghetti o's on nights like tonight??) I made spaghetti, bread sticks, and zucchini. It was all ready, we sat down, had a prayer, fixed AJ's plate and when Ethan saw it yelled, "I want to eat a hot dog, not this!" I tried to sympathize with him "oh, a hot dog does sound yummy, let's fix that tomorrow night!" Instead of resolving it, he just got more mad. He threw off his bib, slid his cup, and placemat on the floor and started to cry...crocodile tears.
Deep breath. No way was this going to turn into a nightly ritual. I said, "Ethan, if you don't want to eat, that's fine, but don't be rude. Pick up your cup, and place mat, and cry in your bedroom. AJ and I are hungry. If you decide you want to eat then come and say you're sorry to me for being rude, and I'll fix you a plate."
He exited and the crying stopped pretty quick. I would call down the hall periodically, "Ethan, are you ready to eat?" "NO!"
So AJ and I ate our dinner. I hadn't noticed he had wandered into the living room and was sitting on the couch, so I don't know how long he was there...but he obviously wasn't upset anymore. I asked him if he was ready to say he was sorry and eat some dinner. No, came the reply. Well, I'm not going to wait all night to see when this kid decides it's time to eat...and I'm certainly not going to call Brian; I'm not making that a habit either. (these were the thoughts in my head) So...I set the timer. (Ethan completely understands anything with the timer, we use it a lot...when it goes off...it's time to go to bed, clean up, come inside, etc) I set it for 5 minutes. I told him if he wanted to eat dinner, he needed to say 'sorry' before the timer went off.
He sat on the couch...dry-eyed, I might add. The timer went off. I cleared the table. I hadn't even dished up his food before his tantrum struck so clean-up was only AJ and I. Brian called: he's on his way. I tell him we have something to talk about. We hang up and Ethan says, "Mom, did you tell Dad I didn't eat my dinner?" (Inquisitively, no tears) "No," I said, "You're going to tell him why you didn't have dinner. And Ethan, that's going to make Dad feel really sad."
Now the real tears come. Is the thought of upsetting your Dad because you upset your Mom more traumatic than seeing that you've upset your mom? Tonight, it was.
So, Brian comes home, we tell the story. Brian has a 'father/son' talk with Ethan. And as I try to be as receptive as possible to this 2-year old...going on 16...apology that's being forced from his lips...I find myself convinced that Ethan knows exactly what he did.
Of course, his hunger pains kicked in, and he came to me (happy, I might add) saying, "Mom, I'm ready to eat my dinner now!"
I didn't give him any. Is that awful? His tears of disappointment weren't real (a mom can tell...heck, the way he was crying, a stranger could tell) so when Brian finished his dinner and there were leftover radishes in the vegetable tray, Ethan asked if he could have one. I said Yes.
Am I trying to ruin his tastebuds toward radishes forever? No...but that's quite the taste to have in your mouth if you're looking for something to satisfy tummy grumble. He wanted to bathe it in dip, but I put that away. Just radishes, honey! (I took one myself, as did Brian, so any future with radishes wouldn't be completely destroyed. We didn't laugh (out loud) or make a big deal out of anything. He just went to bed (30 minutes earlier than usual) What else is there to do in order to ignore the fact that you're hungry? I kissed him and hugged him tight, told him I loved him and said, "I hope tomorrow you make a good decision to eat dinner with the family"
We'll see.
Any suggestions?
Tonight I couldn't pinpoint a reason for his definance, other than that he's been able to do it before...and I felt a 'test' coming on. We were playing outside and I lost track of time, so when I looked at the clock and it said 5:15pm, I knew dinner had to be fast. (Why can't my kids like/eat spaghetti o's on nights like tonight??) I made spaghetti, bread sticks, and zucchini. It was all ready, we sat down, had a prayer, fixed AJ's plate and when Ethan saw it yelled, "I want to eat a hot dog, not this!" I tried to sympathize with him "oh, a hot dog does sound yummy, let's fix that tomorrow night!" Instead of resolving it, he just got more mad. He threw off his bib, slid his cup, and placemat on the floor and started to cry...crocodile tears.
Deep breath. No way was this going to turn into a nightly ritual. I said, "Ethan, if you don't want to eat, that's fine, but don't be rude. Pick up your cup, and place mat, and cry in your bedroom. AJ and I are hungry. If you decide you want to eat then come and say you're sorry to me for being rude, and I'll fix you a plate."
He exited and the crying stopped pretty quick. I would call down the hall periodically, "Ethan, are you ready to eat?" "NO!"
So AJ and I ate our dinner. I hadn't noticed he had wandered into the living room and was sitting on the couch, so I don't know how long he was there...but he obviously wasn't upset anymore. I asked him if he was ready to say he was sorry and eat some dinner. No, came the reply. Well, I'm not going to wait all night to see when this kid decides it's time to eat...and I'm certainly not going to call Brian; I'm not making that a habit either. (these were the thoughts in my head) So...I set the timer. (Ethan completely understands anything with the timer, we use it a lot...when it goes off...it's time to go to bed, clean up, come inside, etc) I set it for 5 minutes. I told him if he wanted to eat dinner, he needed to say 'sorry' before the timer went off.
He sat on the couch...dry-eyed, I might add. The timer went off. I cleared the table. I hadn't even dished up his food before his tantrum struck so clean-up was only AJ and I. Brian called: he's on his way. I tell him we have something to talk about. We hang up and Ethan says, "Mom, did you tell Dad I didn't eat my dinner?" (Inquisitively, no tears) "No," I said, "You're going to tell him why you didn't have dinner. And Ethan, that's going to make Dad feel really sad."
Now the real tears come. Is the thought of upsetting your Dad because you upset your Mom more traumatic than seeing that you've upset your mom? Tonight, it was.
So, Brian comes home, we tell the story. Brian has a 'father/son' talk with Ethan. And as I try to be as receptive as possible to this 2-year old...going on 16...apology that's being forced from his lips...I find myself convinced that Ethan knows exactly what he did.
Of course, his hunger pains kicked in, and he came to me (happy, I might add) saying, "Mom, I'm ready to eat my dinner now!"
I didn't give him any. Is that awful? His tears of disappointment weren't real (a mom can tell...heck, the way he was crying, a stranger could tell) so when Brian finished his dinner and there were leftover radishes in the vegetable tray, Ethan asked if he could have one. I said Yes.
Am I trying to ruin his tastebuds toward radishes forever? No...but that's quite the taste to have in your mouth if you're looking for something to satisfy tummy grumble. He wanted to bathe it in dip, but I put that away. Just radishes, honey! (I took one myself, as did Brian, so any future with radishes wouldn't be completely destroyed. We didn't laugh (out loud) or make a big deal out of anything. He just went to bed (30 minutes earlier than usual) What else is there to do in order to ignore the fact that you're hungry? I kissed him and hugged him tight, told him I loved him and said, "I hope tomorrow you make a good decision to eat dinner with the family"
We'll see.
Any suggestions?
"I almost bought a boat the other day"
KIT LINDSEY
Kit Matthew Lindsey 1972 ~ 2010 Kit Matthew Lindsey, born Jan. 31, 1972 passed away peacefully Monday, March 1, 2010 after a valiant fight the past seven years against Multiple Sclerosis.Kit was a light of encouragement and hope to all who met him. He loved being the life of the party and creating a fun environment wherever he went. Kit served as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Canary Islands, and remained a stalwart servant of the Lord Jesus Christ the remainder of his life. Kit received a Bachelor's Degree from SUU, a Master's Degree from BYU, and a Juris Degree from UNLV. Among Kit's other accomplishments are organizing the judicial system for the City of Holladay, riding bulls on the weekends during an internship in Dallas, TX, initiating the successful incorporation of the City of Cottonwood Heights, as well as teaching Communications as a Professor at UVU. He is survived by his parents, Ron and Nancy, four brothers, Guy (Cici), Mike (Liz), Tim (Era) and David (Jackie), two sisters, Jackie Thayer (Bryan) and Tami Madsen (Jim) and 25 nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by an older sister, Shelley. Funeral services will be held Saturday, March 6, 2010 at 1:00 p.m., at the LDS Butler 20th Ward Chapel, 1355 E. 7200 S. in Cottonwood Heights. There will be a viewing Friday from 6-8:30 p.m. as well as an hour and a half prior to the funeral service on Saturday at the church. Interment will be at Mountain View Memorial Cemetery.My dear friend Kit passed away last month. I didn't get the email in time to arrange to make his funeral. So I am glad I have memories to hold onto. If there ever was a man with a heart of gold and an countenance of sunshine, Kit is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
