The rest of the kid crew:
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Woo Hoo!
The rest of the kid crew:
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Beach
For doing well in school, the kids got some coupons for free admission to The Beach Waterpark. On top of that, everyone else in the party is admitted at half price. The kids had 3 free admissions, so we went to the park for around $50 instead of $175. (One of the years the kids received one 1/2 off admission to Kings Island. They were always upset when I told them that we still couldn't afford to go. But $50 to a water park for a group of 6? That's a deal.)
The days you can go are non-peak days, which was fine by us. Seriously, who wants to go there when it's packed? We arrived as close to opening as possible and found out that the main clientele on an end-of-summer week day at 10:00 a.m. is the over-60 addicted-to-sun crowd. Eww. Better or worse than teenagers with too-skimpy swimsuits?
Anyway, the kids had a great time. The older 3 went with Rob on all the rides. No lines at any of them, which was great. Tank was too short for the rides, so I watched/read my book while he played in the wave pool and the little kid area. Not a fan of water so much.
One funny story. Tank wouldn't go to the little kid area. I think he was insulted because it was for the little kids, and he felt like he should be able to ride the big kid rides. Finally, halfway through the day, we convinced him to try it out by making everyone go. And he loved it! It has a little area where you can ride 2 little inner tube rides, designed for the younger set. This was all fine except for the fact that he kept getting stuck on one of them, going around and around, like in a whirlpool, instead of continuing down the ride.
The others had left to go on more rides, and I was reading my book. I would look up every few paragraphs, locate Tank, and then go back to reading. Well, I hadn't seen him for a few pages, so I got up to see where he was. I last saw him grabbing an inner tube, so I went up to the rides. And there he was, going around and around. I caught his attention and waved to him. He waved back, all chill. "Are you stuck?" He nodded. "Do you need help?" He nodded again. I walked over to the life guard and asked her to help him out. (They try to pay attention, but that one spot is just out of view from where they're supposed to stand.) She walked down and pushed him on his way.
Later I asked if he had been waiting there long. He said, "Yeah. It was like an hour!" Cracked me up.
I personally don't really enjoy rides so much as I completely dislike the feeling of my stomach jumping. I did one that I liked alright, and then the lazy river, which is always fun. And then I read my book. I'm adventurous like that.
Rob decided that I would like one of the rides, a 2-person ride. As we were walking up to the top, I saw a fairly slow-moving ride and went, "Oh, this one!" He said, "No," and pointed to another ride that had lots of dips and started much higher up. He said, "It goes much faster." I stopped walking, "Do you hate me?"
By the end of the ride I decided that Rob's judgment is WAY off. I'd say even broken. I kicked him as we got off at the bottom. He said, "I really thought you'd like it!" Umm, no. Apparently that ride didn't make Rob's stomach jump at all. "They were just little dips," he said. He then told me I could go on the slow-moving one that I'd seen, and I just glared at him and went back to my book.
Next time, when Tank is tall enough to ride all the rides, Rob's coming back, just him and the kids. They enjoy the park while I just enjoy being with my family AT the park. Big difference.
We ended the day tired and sunburned. Like so:
That's a sign of a good day.
The days you can go are non-peak days, which was fine by us. Seriously, who wants to go there when it's packed? We arrived as close to opening as possible and found out that the main clientele on an end-of-summer week day at 10:00 a.m. is the over-60 addicted-to-sun crowd. Eww. Better or worse than teenagers with too-skimpy swimsuits?
Anyway, the kids had a great time. The older 3 went with Rob on all the rides. No lines at any of them, which was great. Tank was too short for the rides, so I watched/read my book while he played in the wave pool and the little kid area. Not a fan of water so much.
One funny story. Tank wouldn't go to the little kid area. I think he was insulted because it was for the little kids, and he felt like he should be able to ride the big kid rides. Finally, halfway through the day, we convinced him to try it out by making everyone go. And he loved it! It has a little area where you can ride 2 little inner tube rides, designed for the younger set. This was all fine except for the fact that he kept getting stuck on one of them, going around and around, like in a whirlpool, instead of continuing down the ride.
The others had left to go on more rides, and I was reading my book. I would look up every few paragraphs, locate Tank, and then go back to reading. Well, I hadn't seen him for a few pages, so I got up to see where he was. I last saw him grabbing an inner tube, so I went up to the rides. And there he was, going around and around. I caught his attention and waved to him. He waved back, all chill. "Are you stuck?" He nodded. "Do you need help?" He nodded again. I walked over to the life guard and asked her to help him out. (They try to pay attention, but that one spot is just out of view from where they're supposed to stand.) She walked down and pushed him on his way.
Later I asked if he had been waiting there long. He said, "Yeah. It was like an hour!" Cracked me up.
I personally don't really enjoy rides so much as I completely dislike the feeling of my stomach jumping. I did one that I liked alright, and then the lazy river, which is always fun. And then I read my book. I'm adventurous like that.
Rob decided that I would like one of the rides, a 2-person ride. As we were walking up to the top, I saw a fairly slow-moving ride and went, "Oh, this one!" He said, "No," and pointed to another ride that had lots of dips and started much higher up. He said, "It goes much faster." I stopped walking, "Do you hate me?"
By the end of the ride I decided that Rob's judgment is WAY off. I'd say even broken. I kicked him as we got off at the bottom. He said, "I really thought you'd like it!" Umm, no. Apparently that ride didn't make Rob's stomach jump at all. "They were just little dips," he said. He then told me I could go on the slow-moving one that I'd seen, and I just glared at him and went back to my book.
Next time, when Tank is tall enough to ride all the rides, Rob's coming back, just him and the kids. They enjoy the park while I just enjoy being with my family AT the park. Big difference.
We ended the day tired and sunburned. Like so:
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Patience
I am not a patient person. I'm better than I used to be (thank you, children, for all the lessons), but that's not saying much.
Today I'm wondering how in the world my mom sat there and patiently said "no" in a sing-song voice as I asked the same question over and over. And over and over and over. I remember thinking that she was so mean for saying no, like she did it just to spite me. And sometimes I'd go and do the thing she said I couldn't do anyway, and she was patient still.
How did she restrain herself from beating me senseless?
I don't beat my kids, senseless or otherwise. But I still wonder how she did it. I find myself getting annoyed, rolling my eyes, yelling, and finally threatening. I start thinking, "Oh my GOSH! How did you get so disrespectful?! Did you not HEAR me?" And sometimes thoughts like that come out of my mouth, too. This helps no one, of course.
Patience is one of those things that I'm tempted to ask Heavenly Father for, because I know how much I need it, how much it would help me. But then I'm knocked back to reality. "Tamra, that's probably the WORST idea you've ever had! You know that if you ask for it, He'll send you trials to teach you, and you won't like it one bit." So I settle for learning patience very, very slowly. And as years go by, I can look back and see that I've improved.
Still, I think I'm getting to the point where I'm going to do it: I'm going to ask for patience.
Pray for me. Pray that I'll survive.
Today I'm wondering how in the world my mom sat there and patiently said "no" in a sing-song voice as I asked the same question over and over. And over and over and over. I remember thinking that she was so mean for saying no, like she did it just to spite me. And sometimes I'd go and do the thing she said I couldn't do anyway, and she was patient still.
How did she restrain herself from beating me senseless?
I don't beat my kids, senseless or otherwise. But I still wonder how she did it. I find myself getting annoyed, rolling my eyes, yelling, and finally threatening. I start thinking, "Oh my GOSH! How did you get so disrespectful?! Did you not HEAR me?" And sometimes thoughts like that come out of my mouth, too. This helps no one, of course.
Patience is one of those things that I'm tempted to ask Heavenly Father for, because I know how much I need it, how much it would help me. But then I'm knocked back to reality. "Tamra, that's probably the WORST idea you've ever had! You know that if you ask for it, He'll send you trials to teach you, and you won't like it one bit." So I settle for learning patience very, very slowly. And as years go by, I can look back and see that I've improved.
Still, I think I'm getting to the point where I'm going to do it: I'm going to ask for patience.
Pray for me. Pray that I'll survive.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Forgot to post about it
First off:
School shopping - don't like.
My niece, Dea - do like.
Moving on.
The Search for Tank
The best story of the Mammoth Cave trip happened at the campsite. It was morning, and our tour didn't start until 10:45 (which felt like 11:45 because of the time change), so we were being good, relaxed parents and were allowing the kids to wander around the whole of the camping area. It's not very big, and I figure, in reality, most people don't really want to steal my children, especially not 4 of them.
They were sticking together and making walking trips around the camping loop and through the wooded area in-between. No problem. Then they called me over a few camp sites to see a deer. I saw the deer and pretended to be enthusiastic about the obviously-fed-by-people animal (cause pretend enthusiasm is what all the cool moms are doing these days). On my way back to the campsite I started counting kids. Miciah, Dea, and Elijah. No Teancom. I asked them where he was. They didn't know. "He's at the bathroom." "No, Elijah was just in there, and Tank wasn't with him." "He's at the campsite." "No, I was just there." That's a problem.
We tried to stay calm. Chances were that he was fine. Chances were that he wasn't too far away. ... But, you know, he's only 5.
We sent all the kids different ways around the loop and Rob split through the wooded area in the middle. One of the other campers said, "Are you looking for a little boy?" Rob replied that he was. "He went that way." Good start on our search. The best part of the whole thing was what they said next.
"He looked really young to be walking by himself, but he was walking with a purpose. He was banging his stick on the ground and when he walked by he looked at us and said, 'I made this trail!'"
Sure enough, he was just a little further down the line, banging his stick as he walked, so no big deal. And our whole family has since been saying, "I made this trail!"
Elijah
For the first time in his short life, Elijah bore his testimony at church. I loved it. It wasn't the semi-memorized normal spiel about how he knew the church was true and that he knew President Hinckley was a prophet or whatever. (Not to knock that sort of little kid testimony-bearing.) He brought up his set of scriptures and, from what I could understand between the mumbles, said that he'd been reading Joseph Smith History and that he liked it. Then he said that his dad had given his uncle Rick a blessing and that Rick had lived and he liked that, too. And he closed the testimony and sat down.
It was so simple, and yet somehow so powerful. Here's a 7-year-old little boy, bringing up his scriptures, talking about how he was reading Joseph Smith History? That's good stuff. On top of that, I'm his mother, and I see what he does at home. We have a Must Read for Half an Hour to Play the Wii rule, and almost always Elijah brings out his Book of Mormon to read. I don't ask him what he's reading most of the time, and I don't know what he's getting out of it, but holy cow! I often can't find the time to read the Book of Mormon, but my 7-year-old, who is just starting to understand the complexities of the book, he's reading it everyday? Wow, I'm a slacker.
But to me the point isn't really that I'm a slacker. It's that Elijah is amazing. He wants to be good. He wants the Priesthood. He wants to serve in the Church just like his daddy. He wants to pray and receive answers.
It's humbling.
Uncle Rick
You'll remember that I posted about Rick when things were looking pretty grim. Well, he's turned it around and is now recovering nicely. He'll hopefully be home by the end of the week, though he'll still need full-time at-home care for a while yet. His accident was on June 10th and he's been in the hospital for all but 4 days since. That's a long time! He's working on things that we take for granted, like walking further than down the hallway and sitting up without passing out. We're happy he'll come home soon. The kids are SO excited to see him.
Strep?
2 weeks ago I was disastrously sick. Fever for 3 days, my throat killing me. I stayed in bed for what felt like (and almost was) 72 hours straight. I finally went to the doctor and he told me that he thought I had strep even though the Rapid Test was negative. Prescribed an antibiotic and told me to go home and get back in bed. I said, "I've BEEN in bed. I want to get OUT of bed!" The next morning I felt amazingly better, and I've continued to improve from there. I finished up the obnoxious 10-day, 3-a-day antibiotic even though the culture revealed that I did not actually have strep. Interesting.
ASL
Tomorrow is my Beginning ASL 2 final. Hurray! I've got a greater than 100% in the class, which I'm proud of but still, it makes it awkward to do things like, "Hey, I know that the class requirement of extra sign hours outside of class is now only extra credit, and I know that I have a better than perfect score in the class, but I did all the work for that requirement, so I'm turning in my 8 hours." I feel like it makes me a jerk, but heck, I'm working hard. The teacher is probably looking for places to dock me points, but for the life of me I can't show up for things under-prepared.
Aw, maybe I won't turn in those 8 hours.
I keep receiving compliments on my sign. I took Rob to a deaf event (even though he barely knows how to say his name - he's a good sport), and was flattered when other people complimented me to him. Someday this will cease to thrill me, but it just feels like confirmation all over again that I'm in the right place at the right time. I love sign and I'm good at it. It's a good feeling.
And last but not least, this song has been in my head:
The End
School shopping - don't like.
My niece, Dea - do like.
Moving on.
The Search for Tank
The best story of the Mammoth Cave trip happened at the campsite. It was morning, and our tour didn't start until 10:45 (which felt like 11:45 because of the time change), so we were being good, relaxed parents and were allowing the kids to wander around the whole of the camping area. It's not very big, and I figure, in reality, most people don't really want to steal my children, especially not 4 of them.
They were sticking together and making walking trips around the camping loop and through the wooded area in-between. No problem. Then they called me over a few camp sites to see a deer. I saw the deer and pretended to be enthusiastic about the obviously-fed-by-people animal (cause pretend enthusiasm is what all the cool moms are doing these days). On my way back to the campsite I started counting kids. Miciah, Dea, and Elijah. No Teancom. I asked them where he was. They didn't know. "He's at the bathroom." "No, Elijah was just in there, and Tank wasn't with him." "He's at the campsite." "No, I was just there." That's a problem.
We tried to stay calm. Chances were that he was fine. Chances were that he wasn't too far away. ... But, you know, he's only 5.
We sent all the kids different ways around the loop and Rob split through the wooded area in the middle. One of the other campers said, "Are you looking for a little boy?" Rob replied that he was. "He went that way." Good start on our search. The best part of the whole thing was what they said next.
"He looked really young to be walking by himself, but he was walking with a purpose. He was banging his stick on the ground and when he walked by he looked at us and said, 'I made this trail!'"
Sure enough, he was just a little further down the line, banging his stick as he walked, so no big deal. And our whole family has since been saying, "I made this trail!"
Elijah
For the first time in his short life, Elijah bore his testimony at church. I loved it. It wasn't the semi-memorized normal spiel about how he knew the church was true and that he knew President Hinckley was a prophet or whatever. (Not to knock that sort of little kid testimony-bearing.) He brought up his set of scriptures and, from what I could understand between the mumbles, said that he'd been reading Joseph Smith History and that he liked it. Then he said that his dad had given his uncle Rick a blessing and that Rick had lived and he liked that, too. And he closed the testimony and sat down.
It was so simple, and yet somehow so powerful. Here's a 7-year-old little boy, bringing up his scriptures, talking about how he was reading Joseph Smith History? That's good stuff. On top of that, I'm his mother, and I see what he does at home. We have a Must Read for Half an Hour to Play the Wii rule, and almost always Elijah brings out his Book of Mormon to read. I don't ask him what he's reading most of the time, and I don't know what he's getting out of it, but holy cow! I often can't find the time to read the Book of Mormon, but my 7-year-old, who is just starting to understand the complexities of the book, he's reading it everyday? Wow, I'm a slacker.
But to me the point isn't really that I'm a slacker. It's that Elijah is amazing. He wants to be good. He wants the Priesthood. He wants to serve in the Church just like his daddy. He wants to pray and receive answers.
It's humbling.
Uncle Rick
You'll remember that I posted about Rick when things were looking pretty grim. Well, he's turned it around and is now recovering nicely. He'll hopefully be home by the end of the week, though he'll still need full-time at-home care for a while yet. His accident was on June 10th and he's been in the hospital for all but 4 days since. That's a long time! He's working on things that we take for granted, like walking further than down the hallway and sitting up without passing out. We're happy he'll come home soon. The kids are SO excited to see him.
Strep?
2 weeks ago I was disastrously sick. Fever for 3 days, my throat killing me. I stayed in bed for what felt like (and almost was) 72 hours straight. I finally went to the doctor and he told me that he thought I had strep even though the Rapid Test was negative. Prescribed an antibiotic and told me to go home and get back in bed. I said, "I've BEEN in bed. I want to get OUT of bed!" The next morning I felt amazingly better, and I've continued to improve from there. I finished up the obnoxious 10-day, 3-a-day antibiotic even though the culture revealed that I did not actually have strep. Interesting.
ASL
Tomorrow is my Beginning ASL 2 final. Hurray! I've got a greater than 100% in the class, which I'm proud of but still, it makes it awkward to do things like, "Hey, I know that the class requirement of extra sign hours outside of class is now only extra credit, and I know that I have a better than perfect score in the class, but I did all the work for that requirement, so I'm turning in my 8 hours." I feel like it makes me a jerk, but heck, I'm working hard. The teacher is probably looking for places to dock me points, but for the life of me I can't show up for things under-prepared.
Aw, maybe I won't turn in those 8 hours.
I keep receiving compliments on my sign. I took Rob to a deaf event (even though he barely knows how to say his name - he's a good sport), and was flattered when other people complimented me to him. Someday this will cease to thrill me, but it just feels like confirmation all over again that I'm in the right place at the right time. I love sign and I'm good at it. It's a good feeling.
And last but not least, this song has been in my head:
The End
Friday, August 19, 2011
Mammoth Cave Trip, 2011
Nearly every year we go down to Mammoth Cave because I love it there. The landscape is gorgeous, all the trees and hills, and the cave is magnificent. One of my non-important goals in life is to take all the tours as an adult. We're only 3 tours shy, I think: Grand Avenue, Violet City Lantern, and River Styx. Hurray for accomplishing random, useless goals!
When I was a kid, my parents would take us to Mammoth Cave, and I'm pretty sure that's when I fell in love with it. If I lived closer, I am sure I would be a caver. As it is, Mammoth Cave is too far of a drive to be routinely involved with the caving societies. Oh well. Another lifetime, perhaps.
This time we took Dea and Keith. Keith hadn't been since those family trips long ago, and Dea'd never been. Fun!
The girls, waiting for our first tour to start. These two are best buds. I imagine we'll be getting them together every summer that we can. It's a precious relationship.
First tour was the Star Chamber Tour. It's a lantern tour! Seriously cool stuff. The lead tour guide did everything slow, especially the talking. At one point Keith asked a question and I turned to him after and said, "No more asking questions!" We would have been there all night. As it was, the tour ran half an hour long.
In front of the place where people used to get married. Weird people. Getting married inside a cave.
Elijah was pretty horrible on the tour, and I wished we'd left him behind with Rob and Tank. There was an age limit on the tour, so Tank stayed back. Elijah complained for almost an hour about being cold/tired. I wanted to shoot him. "We're trying to have an EXPERIENCE, Elijah!" Sheesh! No respect for the cave.
Dea in front of the historical graffiti. People used to sign their names on the walls using, mostly, candle smoke. One dot at a time. The guides would charge a little something and then write the names on the walls and ceilings. As the guides were usually slaves, this was a good deal for them: they were allowed to pocket the tips.
In front of the monument to Kentucky (the biggest of all the monuments). In addition to writing their names on the cave, people built monuments to their hometown/university/whatever. One guy, a Mister A. Hohl (I don't make this stuff up) made a monument to himself. This was sheer cleverness on the part of the guides. They were charged by their owner to clear rocks off the path. So they offered to have people build a monument with the rocks for a small fee. The guides got out of work AND pocketed some cash. Genius.
Oh, and that's my brother Keith in the picture.
The best part of the tour for me was that the old tour guide decided to ask for a volunteer to do the Sunrise Sunset demonstration with the trailing tour guide, John. Ooh! Me! Pick me! I got to hold half the lanterns and walk through a side passage that runs parallel to the main passage. John and I had all the lights between us, so the group was left in darkness. We walked away from the group to create the sunset, and then looped back to them to create the sunrise. ... Seriously, I should apply to be a tour guide for a summer.
The next morning was the Snowball Tour. It's a 3-hour, 2-mile tour. You walk through Cleveland Avenue, with the pretty gypsum, stop at the Snowball Dining Room for lunch, and then hike out the way you came. There are a lot of wide passages that go FOREVER, and the gypsum is pretty cool.
My brother took this picture of the gypsum and I said, "It never turns out well in pictures." I'm pretty sure you'll agree with me.
This is the man-made Carmichael Entrance that we went through to access Cleveland Avenue. They blasted straight through the rock and put in lots of stairs. Without this entrance, Cleveland Avenue is 5 or 6 hours from the main Historic Entrance. Thank you, dynamite.
The Snowball Dining Room, where we ate lunch. We bought 4 boxed lunches for the 7 of us, and it worked out perfectly.
Some more historical graffiti. This wouldn't be nearly so cool if we hadn't been there ourselves on August 17th, 2011. We didn't plan that, of course, but it was cool anyway. Nick was one of the original slave guides.
Last tour was the New Entrance Tour. This tour has 80% of Mammoth Cave's formations. Or at least 80% of the parts of the cave that they show people. There are 392 miles of known cave so far. Maybe someday they'll open up other sections for tours!!! (I know, I know. You don't care. But I do!)
Besides the wicked cool Frozen Niagara section at the end of the tour, there are also these imposing, amazing stairs as you enter:
You can't really tell, I know. But these stairs fit in-between the rock, winding all the way down. Took them years to build, and cost them like $1,000 a stair, something like that. Worth every penny, in my opinion, I'm just glad that I didn't have to build it. Must have been some brave guys.
More wide passages. Then Frozen Niagara at the end. Beautiful.
Then we got out of the cave and drove home, lickety split. It was a long short trip, if that makes sense. But it's always worth it to go down to Mammoth Cave.
When I was a kid, my parents would take us to Mammoth Cave, and I'm pretty sure that's when I fell in love with it. If I lived closer, I am sure I would be a caver. As it is, Mammoth Cave is too far of a drive to be routinely involved with the caving societies. Oh well. Another lifetime, perhaps.
This time we took Dea and Keith. Keith hadn't been since those family trips long ago, and Dea'd never been. Fun!
First tour was the Star Chamber Tour. It's a lantern tour! Seriously cool stuff. The lead tour guide did everything slow, especially the talking. At one point Keith asked a question and I turned to him after and said, "No more asking questions!" We would have been there all night. As it was, the tour ran half an hour long.
Elijah was pretty horrible on the tour, and I wished we'd left him behind with Rob and Tank. There was an age limit on the tour, so Tank stayed back. Elijah complained for almost an hour about being cold/tired. I wanted to shoot him. "We're trying to have an EXPERIENCE, Elijah!" Sheesh! No respect for the cave.
Oh, and that's my brother Keith in the picture.
The best part of the tour for me was that the old tour guide decided to ask for a volunteer to do the Sunrise Sunset demonstration with the trailing tour guide, John. Ooh! Me! Pick me! I got to hold half the lanterns and walk through a side passage that runs parallel to the main passage. John and I had all the lights between us, so the group was left in darkness. We walked away from the group to create the sunset, and then looped back to them to create the sunrise. ... Seriously, I should apply to be a tour guide for a summer.
The next morning was the Snowball Tour. It's a 3-hour, 2-mile tour. You walk through Cleveland Avenue, with the pretty gypsum, stop at the Snowball Dining Room for lunch, and then hike out the way you came. There are a lot of wide passages that go FOREVER, and the gypsum is pretty cool.
The Snowball Dining Room, where we ate lunch. We bought 4 boxed lunches for the 7 of us, and it worked out perfectly.
Last tour was the New Entrance Tour. This tour has 80% of Mammoth Cave's formations. Or at least 80% of the parts of the cave that they show people. There are 392 miles of known cave so far. Maybe someday they'll open up other sections for tours!!! (I know, I know. You don't care. But I do!)
Besides the wicked cool Frozen Niagara section at the end of the tour, there are also these imposing, amazing stairs as you enter:
More wide passages. Then Frozen Niagara at the end. Beautiful.
Then we got out of the cave and drove home, lickety split. It was a long short trip, if that makes sense. But it's always worth it to go down to Mammoth Cave.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Natural Empathy
A few days ago Tank was upset about something and chose to express his frustration by telling me that he hates me. This doesn't really bother me. If the words come from a child who is biologically connected to me (as they often do), then I'm indifferent to them. My response ranges from "Thank you for telling me" to "I know" to "Well, I actually don't like you very much right now, either."
However, in Tank's case, for the last several months he's been telling me that he hates me over and over and over. My typical Respond by Not Responding doesn't work with that. I have to at least remove him to a different location because I don't need to be verbally abused, as fun as it is. I tell him that I don't like it when he tells me mean things like that, and then I send him to his room for a time-out.
It's all a very calm affair. And that's not even a lie. It's easy to be calm while disciplining Tank because he reacts so quickly to even the slightest amount of emotion. It means I don't have to fly off the handle to get his attention (as I used to with a certain older sister of his). If I yell at him, he sobs. If I even yell NEAR him, he sobs. And not a manipulative sob, either. A break-your-heart, I'm-a-horrible-person-for-yelling-at-him sob.
In this particular instance a few days ago, we were in the car headed to the library. I forget the ins and outs, but he wasn't reacting well to something I had told him (along the lines of "You can only get 2 movies, not 3"), and he started showing me his angry face. He pulled out some poutiness, and I was unmoved. He broke into the "I hate you"s. I told him that we could just go home if he was going to be mean, and then he didn't talk to me at all.
We got to the library and I held his hand and led him to a bench outside. We sat down and Tank stared at the ground. I tried explaining, all over again, that I really don't like it when he says that he hates me, mainly because I know he doesn't. "We're buddies," I said. "It hurts my feelings when you tell me that," I lied. I figured it was worth the lie if it would help him understand why we don't say mean things. Then I tried turning it around on him. "How would you feel if I told you that I hate you?"
And this is where Tank broke down. He started crying and fell into my arms and hugged me tight. I talked to him about how it doesn't feel good, that he wouldn't like it if I said that. Then we wrapped up the little chat, I helped him wipe his nose, and we walked into the library as buddies. And as we walked I was once again amazed at this little person who was born with natural empathy, something I lack. What a good kid.
It was really driven home the next day when he was talking about not wanting something. He kept on the 'I don't want' thing so long that I casually said, as I tend to do when a word is repeated for too long, "Well, maybe I don't want you." He stopped and looked at me. He re-stated his position and softened his words. And then I felt really pathetic when he said, "You want me now, don't you?"
Yes, Tank. Yes, I do.
However, in Tank's case, for the last several months he's been telling me that he hates me over and over and over. My typical Respond by Not Responding doesn't work with that. I have to at least remove him to a different location because I don't need to be verbally abused, as fun as it is. I tell him that I don't like it when he tells me mean things like that, and then I send him to his room for a time-out.
It's all a very calm affair. And that's not even a lie. It's easy to be calm while disciplining Tank because he reacts so quickly to even the slightest amount of emotion. It means I don't have to fly off the handle to get his attention (as I used to with a certain older sister of his). If I yell at him, he sobs. If I even yell NEAR him, he sobs. And not a manipulative sob, either. A break-your-heart, I'm-a-horrible-person-for-yelling-at-him sob.
In this particular instance a few days ago, we were in the car headed to the library. I forget the ins and outs, but he wasn't reacting well to something I had told him (along the lines of "You can only get 2 movies, not 3"), and he started showing me his angry face. He pulled out some poutiness, and I was unmoved. He broke into the "I hate you"s. I told him that we could just go home if he was going to be mean, and then he didn't talk to me at all.
We got to the library and I held his hand and led him to a bench outside. We sat down and Tank stared at the ground. I tried explaining, all over again, that I really don't like it when he says that he hates me, mainly because I know he doesn't. "We're buddies," I said. "It hurts my feelings when you tell me that," I lied. I figured it was worth the lie if it would help him understand why we don't say mean things. Then I tried turning it around on him. "How would you feel if I told you that I hate you?"
And this is where Tank broke down. He started crying and fell into my arms and hugged me tight. I talked to him about how it doesn't feel good, that he wouldn't like it if I said that. Then we wrapped up the little chat, I helped him wipe his nose, and we walked into the library as buddies. And as we walked I was once again amazed at this little person who was born with natural empathy, something I lack. What a good kid.
It was really driven home the next day when he was talking about not wanting something. He kept on the 'I don't want' thing so long that I casually said, as I tend to do when a word is repeated for too long, "Well, maybe I don't want you." He stopped and looked at me. He re-stated his position and softened his words. And then I felt really pathetic when he said, "You want me now, don't you?"
Yes, Tank. Yes, I do.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Transformers
My youngest son is obsessed with Transformers. He loves Optimus Prime and Bumble Bee and hates the evil Decipticons. He picked out Transformers underwear. He asks for Transformers fruit snacks.
But he's never seen a single Transformers anything. Not the movies. Not an old cartoon. Not a new cartoon. Nothing.
Still, he loves them. I don't understand why there should be such a draw when he's never seen a Transformers show.
This is some of the feedback he's given me lately about me not letting him watch the first Transformers movie, which we own:
"I hate this house."
"I wish WE [the kids] were allowed to watch the movie and YOU [the parents] weren't."
"I hate you."
This is apparently a huge issue for Tank.
Yesterday he was on a long drive with Rob and they listened to the entire Transformers score. Not the soundtrack with lame songs including words, but the instrumental pieces. You know, reason #2 to watch the movie (follows, of course, reason #1, which is Peter Cullen's Optimus Prime voice; and is followed in turn by reason #3, which is robots fighting robots. There are no more reasons). Tank was super into it. While listening to one song he said, "This one sounds sad," and it was Bumblebee Captured. Another one was Optimus vs. Megatron. Near the end he said, "Ooh, it sounds like Optimus just won." Perceptive.
Today, while telling me about the songs, he said, "Mom, you know which one is the best?" Trying to guess his favorite song, I said, "Umm, Arrival to Earth?" He looked at me like I was stupid and said, "Noooo, the best TRANSFORMER." I giggled. "Oh! That's Optimus." He nodded sagely.
All of this is to say 2 things:
1 - I don't feel bad not letting my 5-year-old son watch Transformers.
2 - I've decided to let my 5-year-old son watch Transformers.
I mean, really, what are my objections?
It's violent. Our kids have watched all 3 Lord of the Rings movies. Check on violence.
It's a little racy. Umm, he's 5. Is he even going to really notice? That engine scene passes quickly, and movie #1 keeps it pretty veiled. (But that's a HELL NO for movie #2, for sure. We don't own that one for a reason. Actually many reasons, but mainly that it was just a sucky movie.)
So tonight we're going to have a special mom-dad-Tank date night and watch Transformers. (The other kids are with Grandma and Grandpa. They've also never seen Transformers. Actually, I take that back. I think their uncle let them watch it with him. They weren't impressed with the movie.) Don't be concerned for my eternal welfare. I promise that if I'm going to Hell, it's for many, many other reasons.
On a related note, these days Tank is also really into chomping ice.
But he's never seen a single Transformers anything. Not the movies. Not an old cartoon. Not a new cartoon. Nothing.
Still, he loves them. I don't understand why there should be such a draw when he's never seen a Transformers show.
This is some of the feedback he's given me lately about me not letting him watch the first Transformers movie, which we own:
"I hate this house."
"I wish WE [the kids] were allowed to watch the movie and YOU [the parents] weren't."
"I hate you."
This is apparently a huge issue for Tank.
Yesterday he was on a long drive with Rob and they listened to the entire Transformers score. Not the soundtrack with lame songs including words, but the instrumental pieces. You know, reason #2 to watch the movie (follows, of course, reason #1, which is Peter Cullen's Optimus Prime voice; and is followed in turn by reason #3, which is robots fighting robots. There are no more reasons). Tank was super into it. While listening to one song he said, "This one sounds sad," and it was Bumblebee Captured. Another one was Optimus vs. Megatron. Near the end he said, "Ooh, it sounds like Optimus just won." Perceptive.
Today, while telling me about the songs, he said, "Mom, you know which one is the best?" Trying to guess his favorite song, I said, "Umm, Arrival to Earth?" He looked at me like I was stupid and said, "Noooo, the best TRANSFORMER." I giggled. "Oh! That's Optimus." He nodded sagely.
All of this is to say 2 things:
1 - I don't feel bad not letting my 5-year-old son watch Transformers.
2 - I've decided to let my 5-year-old son watch Transformers.
I mean, really, what are my objections?
It's violent. Our kids have watched all 3 Lord of the Rings movies. Check on violence.
It's a little racy. Umm, he's 5. Is he even going to really notice? That engine scene passes quickly, and movie #1 keeps it pretty veiled. (But that's a HELL NO for movie #2, for sure. We don't own that one for a reason. Actually many reasons, but mainly that it was just a sucky movie.)
So tonight we're going to have a special mom-dad-Tank date night and watch Transformers. (The other kids are with Grandma and Grandpa. They've also never seen Transformers. Actually, I take that back. I think their uncle let them watch it with him. They weren't impressed with the movie.) Don't be concerned for my eternal welfare. I promise that if I'm going to Hell, it's for many, many other reasons.
On a related note, these days Tank is also really into chomping ice.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Camping
Don't worry, this one is mostly pictures.
For a week we were lucky enough to have 2 of our nieces, Maddie and Alexa, come stay with us. (Must be a theme this summer - nieces at our house.) Their 3 younger siblings all battled e Coli, which was horrible for them, but Maddie and Alexa were fine. So we had a great time playing at the museum and playing with friends and going to the Y to swim. Their favorite part of the whole week was camping, even though the camping trip was a mild disaster. Turns out that they'd never been camping before. So it was a treat for them.
Tin foil dinners:
Cuteness:
Craziness:
Here's Rob the Amazing:
I would like you to note the van in the background. Turns out that if you leave it with the doors open for an entire evening, which makes the interior lights stay on, then the battery will be dead in the morning. Rob tried to blame this on the kids. Pretty sure it was all of us.
Hiking:
Rob sprained his ankle while chasing away a cat. Yep. Super manly, right? But he wrapped it up and toughed it out and despite my objections, he went hiking with the family. "I'm not going to spoil the fun for everyone," he said. By the end of the day his ankle was swollen to double the normal size. It was gross. I'm a bruise-lover, but this one was outrageously disgusting. He stayed off it for weeks, and it's still tender.
The dog loved hiking:
All the kids on the trail:
Swimming in the river:
It started raining while the kids were in the river, so we went home and finished the rest of the camping-like things there. And mild disaster or not, it was fun! Good memories.
For a week we were lucky enough to have 2 of our nieces, Maddie and Alexa, come stay with us. (Must be a theme this summer - nieces at our house.) Their 3 younger siblings all battled e Coli, which was horrible for them, but Maddie and Alexa were fine. So we had a great time playing at the museum and playing with friends and going to the Y to swim. Their favorite part of the whole week was camping, even though the camping trip was a mild disaster. Turns out that they'd never been camping before. So it was a treat for them.
Tin foil dinners:
I would like you to note the van in the background. Turns out that if you leave it with the doors open for an entire evening, which makes the interior lights stay on, then the battery will be dead in the morning. Rob tried to blame this on the kids. Pretty sure it was all of us.
Hiking:
The dog loved hiking:
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Happenings (an update)
Life feels better than it did a few weeks ago. Calmer and happier.
Seattle
I went to Seattle at the beginning of July to pick up my niece, Dea, for the summer. First off, Dea is delightful and I would like her to live with us for the rest of her life. So when people say something like, "Don't you have family in town?" it's easy to forget that technically, yes, I do. Dea's just one of the kids, and it's been easy to transition from saying that I have 3 kids to claiming 4.
The Seattle trip was a much-needed break. And Seattle is GORGEOUS. I would move there in a heartbeat. I assumed that it would be brown like California, but no! With all the pine trees, it was a deeper green than the Midwest! LOVED it. The mountains, the ocean, the green-ness. Man, I don't know why we all don't pack up and move to Seattle right now!
Also, it was really fun to see my sister again. We don't get to see each other much since we live so far away. She's a wonderful person. I tend to think that she's prettier than me, so when we're together and people ask if we're twins, it makes me happy. Even if I'm the ugly twin, I'll take it!
Oh, oh! If you ever go to Seattle, think about going on the Underground Seattle tour. There's a whole section of town where a new street level was built, and the buildings were just buried to the second floor. So you can go walk around down there and learn about Seattle history. Awesome, right?!
And bring extra money (or your dad - that's what I did) and eat at the Metropolitan Grill. Buy a steak. Trust me.
School and Sign
School is going really, really well. I feel like my sign skills are getting better and better, and that's always a good feeling. I still feel kind of bad that people in my class struggle when I'm having the time of my life. But, honestly, I work my butt off doing this ASL thing. I practice all the freakin' time, to the point of annoying my family members. It's almost like an involuntary twitch at this point. I have to put my hands in my pockets to remind myself to keep my hands still. I've started pulling it out in Gospel Doctrine, without meaning to, and several people have caught me signing to myself while walking down the church hallway.
I was able to help with the effort to get the Deaf LDS Community in the Tri-State area (Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky) together. On Saturday I organized a potluck. Well, really, I picked a place and time and everyone else did the inviting. People came from Dayton, Columbus, and Danville, KY. They picked the next time to meet and planned it out, along with how they want things to run down the road. They started a Facebook page to try to involve as many Deaf LDS as they can. (The Deaf Community includes pretty much anyone who signs. So interpreters and students get included. Though honestly, I still feel like I'm on the fringe of it all, and I might feel like that for a long time, yet. I'm a facilitator and that's the way it is.)
I'm excited that I've been able to be a part of making this happen. I'm grossly undertrained, so I don't feel that I'm Useful in any real sense (I keep saying to myself), but if what just happened there wasn't Useful, than what is?
I also learned that there's a Bachelor's Degree at Wright State for Interpreter Training. I'm not sure what the full name of it is, but it's designed for people like me who will have finished a 2-year degree in an Interpreter Training Program. Not sure if that's the direction that I'll go with school, but apparently soon the certification requirement will change, and I'll need a bachelors. That's a ways off, but it's good to think about now.
(Also, this is going to sound like bragging, but I'm really happy about it, so I'm going to say it. My teacher today told me that I'm going to be a good interpreter. She said, "As teachers, we can always tell who the good ones will be, and you're going to be a good one." Go me! Though, honestly, my response was, "If I didn't want to be the best, then I wouldn't have started the program. I can be mediocre without a degree.")
Rob's Science Conference
Rob went to Maine for a week and had a great time at a super specialized scientific conference. He's was like, "I got to eat dinner with some of these big name guys!" and "That guy's at the top of the field and he was excited about MY research!" etc. It helped remind Rob that he really truly does like research, which is something he's been doubting ever since the 2 years of hell with his last boss.
It got Rob super motivated to get some science papers out. He and his boss came home with some great ideas for what to work on next. Plus, he spent a delightful week with his boss, talking science and getting to know her better. One of the great things about Edith is that she's not only a great boss, she's also a great person.
Rob brought home a Whoopie Pie cook book. I didn't know there was such a thing as Whoopie Pie. Apparently it's a New England thing. They're like big circle cakes with marshmallow filling. Here's a picture that I just grabbed off the internet:
We made these with the kids, and they loved it. Those things are HUGE though, so it was impossible to eat a whole Whoopie Pie by yourself. I think the most anyone ate was 1/2, but most of us only got through 1/4:
These doubled as Tank's birthday cake:
Rob didn't know about the other thing that whoopie means. We were at a friend's house and I had to preface our family's next activity by describing what a Whoopie Pie is, so that the sentence didn't come out, "Come on, kids. Let's go make whoopies." The pluralizing of the word doesn't make it much better. It's already led to some fun jokes. Like, "Rob and I made whoopies and you guys tried it, too," and, "Come on over! We're making whoopies for dessert." ... I bet jokes like this get old really fast in New England.
Miciah and Dea
They're a great pair. Miciah gets Dea out doing stuff, and Dea keeps Miciah calm for the most part. It's a good arrangement. Since Dea's been here, bedtime has been smooth and Miciah never complains that she's bored.
Elijah
Elijah is significantly less crazy since we put Indoor Behavior rules in place. If he's inside and being crazy, then I ask him once to go outside or downstairs to play. If I have to ask him a second time, it's an automatic reading in his room for 15 minutes. Not a punishment, mind you, just an appropriate indoor activity. It's worked like a charm. Elijah is now manageable and the house is calm. Hurray!
Tank
Is officially 5 years old! New rules for him: No sucking fingers except in his room, at bedtime, and in the car. The day after his birthday we started the new rules. He was so mad at me. He threw a fit at my feet until I threw him in his room and then he napped for a few hours. The second day on the new rules and came up to me and said, "Mom, I don't like this new deal. I didn't make this deal!" I told him it wasn't a deal, it was just the way it is now. He wasn't happy with that at all.
However, we're over a week into the new rules, and it's been great. He's so obedient that he absolutely doesn't suck his fingers unless he's in his room or in the car, and the instances of both are decreasing. Just yesterday he said, "I only really suck my fingers when I'm going to bed now." Yes! That was the idea.
His Kindergarten screening is next week. He hasn't been too into learning about anything except animals, so he doesn't know how to read or write. Which means that he'll actually learn something in Kindergarten. He's coming out of his shell more and more, so we're less and less concerned about his transition to school. I think it also helps that we tell him, "We're all going to school, even Mom and Dad." He likes that.
Random Other
And that's pretty much life here. I like my new glasses. I can see crisper details, which is fun. People will say, "I didn't know you needed glasses," and I'll respond with, "Well, I don't really NEED them..." Glasses make the dark gray words in books appear black and sharp. They make the detail on the TV more crisp. They make the clock across the room more distinct. So it's not like I can now see what I couldn't before, I just can now see better what I could already see. And I like it. It makes my eyes feel more relaxed. Now when I take off my glasses my eyes go, "What are you DOING? Put them back on!"
My Uncle Rick is doing better! He's starting the recovery process. It'll still take a long time, but it's awesome that things are getting better. Thank you for all your prayers and support.
And I have a brand new nephew, born today in Utah! Hurray!!!
The End
Seattle
I went to Seattle at the beginning of July to pick up my niece, Dea, for the summer. First off, Dea is delightful and I would like her to live with us for the rest of her life. So when people say something like, "Don't you have family in town?" it's easy to forget that technically, yes, I do. Dea's just one of the kids, and it's been easy to transition from saying that I have 3 kids to claiming 4.
The Seattle trip was a much-needed break. And Seattle is GORGEOUS. I would move there in a heartbeat. I assumed that it would be brown like California, but no! With all the pine trees, it was a deeper green than the Midwest! LOVED it. The mountains, the ocean, the green-ness. Man, I don't know why we all don't pack up and move to Seattle right now!
Also, it was really fun to see my sister again. We don't get to see each other much since we live so far away. She's a wonderful person. I tend to think that she's prettier than me, so when we're together and people ask if we're twins, it makes me happy. Even if I'm the ugly twin, I'll take it!
Oh, oh! If you ever go to Seattle, think about going on the Underground Seattle tour. There's a whole section of town where a new street level was built, and the buildings were just buried to the second floor. So you can go walk around down there and learn about Seattle history. Awesome, right?!
And bring extra money (or your dad - that's what I did) and eat at the Metropolitan Grill. Buy a steak. Trust me.
School and Sign
School is going really, really well. I feel like my sign skills are getting better and better, and that's always a good feeling. I still feel kind of bad that people in my class struggle when I'm having the time of my life. But, honestly, I work my butt off doing this ASL thing. I practice all the freakin' time, to the point of annoying my family members. It's almost like an involuntary twitch at this point. I have to put my hands in my pockets to remind myself to keep my hands still. I've started pulling it out in Gospel Doctrine, without meaning to, and several people have caught me signing to myself while walking down the church hallway.
I was able to help with the effort to get the Deaf LDS Community in the Tri-State area (Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky) together. On Saturday I organized a potluck. Well, really, I picked a place and time and everyone else did the inviting. People came from Dayton, Columbus, and Danville, KY. They picked the next time to meet and planned it out, along with how they want things to run down the road. They started a Facebook page to try to involve as many Deaf LDS as they can. (The Deaf Community includes pretty much anyone who signs. So interpreters and students get included. Though honestly, I still feel like I'm on the fringe of it all, and I might feel like that for a long time, yet. I'm a facilitator and that's the way it is.)
I'm excited that I've been able to be a part of making this happen. I'm grossly undertrained, so I don't feel that I'm Useful in any real sense (I keep saying to myself), but if what just happened there wasn't Useful, than what is?
I also learned that there's a Bachelor's Degree at Wright State for Interpreter Training. I'm not sure what the full name of it is, but it's designed for people like me who will have finished a 2-year degree in an Interpreter Training Program. Not sure if that's the direction that I'll go with school, but apparently soon the certification requirement will change, and I'll need a bachelors. That's a ways off, but it's good to think about now.
(Also, this is going to sound like bragging, but I'm really happy about it, so I'm going to say it. My teacher today told me that I'm going to be a good interpreter. She said, "As teachers, we can always tell who the good ones will be, and you're going to be a good one." Go me! Though, honestly, my response was, "If I didn't want to be the best, then I wouldn't have started the program. I can be mediocre without a degree.")
Rob's Science Conference
Rob went to Maine for a week and had a great time at a super specialized scientific conference. He's was like, "I got to eat dinner with some of these big name guys!" and "That guy's at the top of the field and he was excited about MY research!" etc. It helped remind Rob that he really truly does like research, which is something he's been doubting ever since the 2 years of hell with his last boss.
It got Rob super motivated to get some science papers out. He and his boss came home with some great ideas for what to work on next. Plus, he spent a delightful week with his boss, talking science and getting to know her better. One of the great things about Edith is that she's not only a great boss, she's also a great person.
Rob brought home a Whoopie Pie cook book. I didn't know there was such a thing as Whoopie Pie. Apparently it's a New England thing. They're like big circle cakes with marshmallow filling. Here's a picture that I just grabbed off the internet:
Rob didn't know about the other thing that whoopie means. We were at a friend's house and I had to preface our family's next activity by describing what a Whoopie Pie is, so that the sentence didn't come out, "Come on, kids. Let's go make whoopies." The pluralizing of the word doesn't make it much better. It's already led to some fun jokes. Like, "Rob and I made whoopies and you guys tried it, too," and, "Come on over! We're making whoopies for dessert." ... I bet jokes like this get old really fast in New England.
Miciah and Dea
They're a great pair. Miciah gets Dea out doing stuff, and Dea keeps Miciah calm for the most part. It's a good arrangement. Since Dea's been here, bedtime has been smooth and Miciah never complains that she's bored.
Elijah
Elijah is significantly less crazy since we put Indoor Behavior rules in place. If he's inside and being crazy, then I ask him once to go outside or downstairs to play. If I have to ask him a second time, it's an automatic reading in his room for 15 minutes. Not a punishment, mind you, just an appropriate indoor activity. It's worked like a charm. Elijah is now manageable and the house is calm. Hurray!
Tank
Is officially 5 years old! New rules for him: No sucking fingers except in his room, at bedtime, and in the car. The day after his birthday we started the new rules. He was so mad at me. He threw a fit at my feet until I threw him in his room and then he napped for a few hours. The second day on the new rules and came up to me and said, "Mom, I don't like this new deal. I didn't make this deal!" I told him it wasn't a deal, it was just the way it is now. He wasn't happy with that at all.
However, we're over a week into the new rules, and it's been great. He's so obedient that he absolutely doesn't suck his fingers unless he's in his room or in the car, and the instances of both are decreasing. Just yesterday he said, "I only really suck my fingers when I'm going to bed now." Yes! That was the idea.
His Kindergarten screening is next week. He hasn't been too into learning about anything except animals, so he doesn't know how to read or write. Which means that he'll actually learn something in Kindergarten. He's coming out of his shell more and more, so we're less and less concerned about his transition to school. I think it also helps that we tell him, "We're all going to school, even Mom and Dad." He likes that.
Random Other
And that's pretty much life here. I like my new glasses. I can see crisper details, which is fun. People will say, "I didn't know you needed glasses," and I'll respond with, "Well, I don't really NEED them..." Glasses make the dark gray words in books appear black and sharp. They make the detail on the TV more crisp. They make the clock across the room more distinct. So it's not like I can now see what I couldn't before, I just can now see better what I could already see. And I like it. It makes my eyes feel more relaxed. Now when I take off my glasses my eyes go, "What are you DOING? Put them back on!"
My Uncle Rick is doing better! He's starting the recovery process. It'll still take a long time, but it's awesome that things are getting better. Thank you for all your prayers and support.
And I have a brand new nephew, born today in Utah! Hurray!!!
The End
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