Three Things Thursday

Three of Tickle Torture....

He looked up at us with tears welling in his eyes and with a shaking voice said,

"Mom, Dad.... the kids at school"

(insert dramatic pause here as a tear rolls down his red cheek)

"....They.... they.... they call me.... Oak Tree."

(voice breaks into sobs)


Honestly, when I went down the teasing possibilities for the name Oakley I thought of Oak Tree and figured it would not be a big deal.


"Oh, Oakley.  Don't be so sad!  At least your name isn't Cooper, because you know what they'd call you then, right?"

"What?"

"Pooper."

Bedtime (again!?)

My children have been going to bed every night of their lives. Haven't yours?

I'll admit that  there are variations in the routine, like whether or not we remember to brush teeth (don't tell the Dentist) sometimes we skip the prayer (don't tell the Bishop). Switch-ups in who gets a snuggle first and which story is read are common.  These days Eden reads a lot of the bedtime stories to the Littles, which I like to call "killing four birds with one stone". 

But more often than not it's a predictable sequence that should go smoothly for these little creatures of habit.

If fact, these children of mine are so familiar with the routine of going to bed that sometimes they play 'bedtime' all day long.  Putting babies to bed, putting each other to bed, singing songs, the whole shebang.  They even build make shift sleeping quarters in various locations, just for the sheer joy of it.

So.  Why is it that bedtime is such a SHOCK when it comes? 

Why do toddlers wail and preschoolers whine?

When the clocks strikes 8pm why does my son lay on the floor and moan and why does my nine-year old suddenly remember the seventeen things that must be completed before school the next day?

Please, please internet.  Please tell me the answers.

Wherein the Gods of the Internet Come Through

Many many moons ago, I sent a prayer up to the Gods of the Internet, Craigslist and the like..

"Dear Craigslist: Please send me 8 of these chairs for my dining room. xoxoxB."

(Click photo if you want to see my Pinterest boards.  Yet another time sucker.  I'm telling you now:  DO NOT JOIN PINTEREST.  There.  Consider yourself warned, and have fun pinning.)


As it turns out, chairs like those referred to in my humble prayer retail for $200-$300 each  (this is Crate & Barrel's white spaceship version...)

Because I choose to stay at home and watch my children throw perfectly good cereal all over the floor instead of going out into the work force to bring in a cushy second income that we really don't need... well.  I just couldn't justify the expense. $2400 for chairs that will be spilled on, climbed over, and generally mucked up for the next decade.  Imagine!  Besides, there is far too much photography equipment to be purchased to be spending that sort of cash on chairs.

But look!  Just LOOK what my own personal Design Fairy found in an abandoned storage room:

I should probably replace the khaki brown seat covers, but in reality that will never happen.  However, I do think that the deep chocolate color goes well with the 1970's brown molding. I've been told that such molding is quickly making a comeback in the world of design.  Or something.

The best part:  They were F to the R to the Double E!

And just in case you thought I was kidding about the wasted cereal part....

Three Things Thursday

Three of my boy

(I  processed these shots with a vintage look that I'm trying to make not too over-the-top but it's still a work in progress, but that has nothing to do with this little tale I'm about to tell...)

I overheard something I wish I hadn't....

While exploring a new sledding hill (within walking distance from our little green house, how did this treasure go undiscovered for all these years!!?? ) I watched two little boys about my son's age walk down to join the sledding festivities.  As they got closer and gave the group a once-over, one boy leaned over to the other,"Don't worry.  We'll just ignore Oakley."

Obviously my heart broke into a thousand pieces right there in the falling snow.

I then did some motherly calculations and determined that I am going to make sure my son becomes a basket ball star so he can kick that kid's ass.

So there.


(Understatement of the week:  Watching my children grow up and experience life really hurts sometimes).

Oh.  And here are three more of vitage-y sledding. Just because I'm so seldom blogging these days, I figure, why not. 

Thank You

(photo source here.  click to listen to Dr. King's speech)

Having come from a Faith where Pioneers are celebrated and Prophets revered, it would be negligent of me not to honor the pioneer and visionary man of Faith (yes, perhaps even Prophet) who stands as a symbol for the changes that allow me to live with this little family of mine.

I haven't read the full text of  Dr. Martin Luther King's famous "I Have a Dream" speech for a couple of years *shame on me*.  But I read it this year (beacuse it's never too late to make a good decision), talked about it with my children.  I even picked out a couple of paragraphs that we don't usually hear to share here...just because I love you so.

 

"But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children."

I ask myself if I am of the character of person to not be satisfied with injustice.  If I will stand, firm, unwavering, peaceful  and determined in the face of inequality, regardless of the cost, or will I be content to "take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism"?  

I think of what was put on the line to right the wrongs of ages and I have to pause to take a breath.

Without Dr. Martin Luther King and the faithful people who lived for, stood for, and died for civil rights in this country... well....  there would be no Ethiopian Christmas doll to play with at our house.  There would be no  no red-head and black-skinned sisters negotiating the art of making the baby dolls stand up on the dresser.  And I would be missing blessings that I didn't even know could be possible. 

....What's that?  You wanted to see the photo?  Ok.  Here. 

 

Happy Birthday Eve!

Happy Birthday to my sister Eve!  You make beautiful babies!

A Simple Letter and some Sparkles

Oakley didn't have the greatest day at school yesterday (refer to previous post)...  He was pretty bummed by the time we got home after therapy and errands. 

And wouldn't you know, that on such a day as this, I opened the mail box and found a letter addressed to the very boy who needed it most.  A letter from his Primary teacher at church.

Oakley's eyes lit up, he carefully opened the letter and smiled from ear to ear as I helped him read the words from his new teacher.  This little letter turned his day around and gave him something to share during "Thumbs Up" at dinner.

In defining what I actually believe (Resolution 2012, remember?) I can say this:

I know that  we matter to God.

I know that  we are meant to help each other along in this journey of life, that He blesses us through each other.

It touched my heart to know that my crooked little pee-boy who can never sit still, who struggles to write his name in a straight line, and who tries so hard every day only to return home discouraged ... That God knew he needed a little boost yesterday.  More importantly, it amazes me that Oakley's Primary teacher somehow figured this out and followed through. 

I think the difference between he (the teacher) and I is follow through.  Don't we all entertain little sparkly thoughts, flitting about during the day... 'I should call her'... 'He might need a meal'.... 'I wonder if their car has been fixed yet'... 'my kid needs some one on one time today'.. but then we look the other way and carry about our oh-so-important-and-busy-lives as the little light fizzles and fades into nothingness.

Follow through.  When I happen to spot a sparkle of kindness passing through my thoughts, I will reach out and grab it, hang on, and follow through.  Pay it forward, bless someone else like this insightful teacher blessed my little boy yesterday with a simple letter.   Who knows, but that my life will brighten up a bit because of it.