It's Never too Late

It feels great to finally create a header to sum up September. Ah. Perhaps it should be done before the first day of the month, but I don't really care. I'm just glad to have it done for our family's 2011 year book. (Not that I've started putting that together yet).

So many good memories in September. I still have to finish a few posts about beautiful Block Island. I simply can't let go of this month without recounting the incredible moonlit Mamsen clam bake on the beach. I will have to finish catching up another night. My eye lids are heavy, and I hope to stay alert for LDS conference in the morning.

But I won't let myself sleep without recording a few moments from the day:

I woke up to find myself pouring orange juice on my cereal. Oops. I told Atrain I was going to try it. He looked disgusted. I dumped it down the drain.

We started off our run by checking the post office for the boys' Halloween costumes. They arrived. I immediately put baby J's Yoda hat on. I couldn't stop laughing as his green ears flapped in the wind. Atrain couldn't stop asking me to go home so that he could adorn himself from head to toe in Darth attire.

Once we were home it was Star Wars central. Atrain was so into his character, he even gave me a little Darth Vader dance lesson.

After baby J took a nap, the boys and I decided to try out the baby hiking backpack. We set out on the Shore mountain trail (our backyard) and ended up at the Butte Gardens. (I giggle every time our phone navigators pronounce it butt.) It was awesome. We loved every minute of it: getting in free, the "lambs ear" fuzzy plants, the flowers, the red sand box, and the way my "boom boom" burned as I climbed around with Jdog strapped to my back. And then we had to leave, and Atrain melted into a puddle of furious tears. I dragged him the entire way back, and managed to laugh at myself every other step.

Chocolate ice cream solves anything, and we set of for an area barbecue to snag a free dinner. Atrain wore his Darth Vader get up, and was in character until he ditched it kick around a soccer ball. Jdog was in heaven. He is a social little dude. He loves new faces and environments, and is always ready to dive into the scene. As soon as we sat down on the grass with veggie burgers and hot dogs in hand, J set off for the crowd. When the music turned on, Jdog reared up on his knees and bopped to the beat, flapping his arms in the air with sheer joy. Atrain crawled over beside him (noticing all the attention pointed in J's direction), said, "Mom, I'm a baby," and mimicked Jdog's darling dance (with a little less cute and a little more hilarious).

And, now it's much too late. But I can't stop writing without giving a shout out to Riley Nelsen. Seriously miraculous cougar victory. The best kind.

Good night.

Bonanza's Birthday

Today was my SIL's birthday. Bonanza turned 22, and I got to take her to breakfast--a tradition that is three years running. She is radiant, honest, inspiring and beloved. I look at her and I feel how real God's love is. What a special woman. I'm lucky to have so many special women in my life. They make me want to be better, and give me the courage and support to try. Happy Birthday, Bonanza.

The King of Stall Land

Atrain spent almost two hours stalling in his room tonight before sumbitting to the sandman. (This was after we spent an hour prepping for bed...he loves his new star wars books from the library). And then the rest of the night routine went like this:

There was the initial goodnight, and then the bathroom break; the 'I just need X random car' that takes 10 minutes to find; the 'I just wanted to give you this toy' break; the need for more water; the spilled water; the peeking around the corner because 'I just wanted to see what you were doing; then I close his door for disobeying (again); I open it to feed thr gunny sack (newest clean up motivation tool) with all the objects that have been thrown against his door; then he cries for 10 minutes; then I go in to comfort; we talk (well, he talks, while I listen and sign); and then he finally settles in for the night.

I am sure there are multiple things wrong with my reaction to his delay tactics. But it was sweet tonight as I comforted him to hear him explain his motivations to me. As I snuggled with him in bed he said, 'I just wish I was taller, mom, like you.' I nodded and mouthed, 'You do?' --He can't hear me, but it is incredible how chatty he is sans cochlears. 'Yeah, I wish I was taller and I could stay up with you and clean and not sleep in this bed any more, and put Gothridge on your shelf and I will sleep in your bed because I will be taller. I just wish I was taller." I nodded and signed "I love you. Time to sleep."

I do love that boy. I love him so much and wish he could say up with me, but I can't surrender. At least, not tonight. Someday he will be taller and he will be able to stay up with me. Hopefully by then he'll still want to hang out with me (and I'm sure he'll understand that the pinnacle of family progression does not revolve around sleeping in mom's bed). I can't wait to see what new strategies the King of Stall Land will devise in our war with bedtime.

Wisdom in my Order

Tonight I cuddled with my baby. Jdog curled up against my chest and we sat in the recliner as the late afternoon sunlight warmed our skin. Atrain chased dust particles illuminated by the rays. The husband flipped through studentdoctor.net to catch up on the latest residency application gossip. And I just sat there quietly, thinking, breathing, and watching my baby's head dip in and out of the beams of sunlight with every inhale. It was a simple moment when I listened, and heard a soft reminder from the Spirit about how happy I am because of these boys--because of my family.

It's not that I ever really forget such an important piece of information. I always remember that fact. It's just easy to forget how it feels. Stress numbs my senses too often, and I loose purpose and direction. I become so exhausted with worry about what I have to do, and how I have (or haven't) done it that it's hard to soak in the reason for doing.

In the scriptures there is a section where a king is speaking to his people in the wake of a great spiritual renewal. After they had fallen to the earth "because they viewed themselves in their own carnal state," he goes on to teach them how to be saved through the Atonement of Christ; to come to know God, to repent and have humility. He goes on to stress the necessity of loving caring for and teaching my family, and also the importance of doing the same for neighbors. And then his advice is divine, "And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order, for it is not requisite that a man run faster than he hath strength..." (Mosiah 4:27).

This scripture can be interpreted in a lot of ways, but at least this time as I read through it, I felt inspired to focus more on God's love as I'm doing my daily deeds, rather than on His expectations. It is good to know and understand who God wants me to be. But, it's better to know God. Having wisdom and order in my doings means that I first know and believe, and then my doing will be more purposeful, joyful and fulfilling. I don't need to outrun my to do list. I do need more mothering moments where I stop, listen, and let my heart be filled with joy.

Missionary Monday

Dear JD,

Thought that picture would brighten your day. Looking at them sitting happily, together in the car sure brightens mine. So, how are you? Really...how are you? I've been thinking about you so much lately, wondering if you are feeling happy with all that you are doing, and hoping and praying that you are. I am happy, but sometimes I have moments when I don't exactly like what I'm doing. For instance--yesterday when we were leaving for church Atrain would not hold still while I was putting on his tie. So, I told him to take it with him and we could do it in the car. And then I started to walk out the door. He followed me, screaming and crying because I wouldn't put it on for him. I told him that I would do it in the car, but as it turned out, he didn't bring it with him, and I didn't have my key card with me to get me back into my building. Oops. I tried to convince him that he had to live with it. I tried to bribe him to calm down. I tried to tell him that I really needed his help to be happy so that we could make it to church to feel the Spirit. But, to no avail, Atrain continued to have a cow. No--more like a dinosaur.

He roared up a storm...all the way to the chapel breezeway. We sat in the foyer during the sacrament, and then the husband came out (he plays the organ) to fine Atrain whimpering on my lap while Jdog played happily with the lap on the table next to me. I felt like whimpering. I felt like crying. I felt like stomping my feet and throwing my own fit...just like Atrain. And, though I did raise my voice on our way back to the apartment to get his silly tie, I kept myself from throwing a hissy fit. I guess I will consider that a success...of sorts. As it turns out, Atrain was just in the mood to make things difficult, because after I retrieved his tie, he continued to cry about anything he could think about that we had left behind. So, I just went back to the church and sat on the grass while Atrain finished throwing his fit in the car. That was quite the mothering moment.

Sometimes it is hard for me to enjoy all of the ins and outs of what I'm doing. I love my kids. I love them more than anything--so much that it hurts sometimes...especially when I worry that I don't know what exactly I'm doing. But, I'm trying to do my best, and I know that God is helping me. Family sure helps a lot too. We had a wonderful time at mom and dad's yesterday. I love relaxing with the family over roast beef and baked potatoes. I love watching my kiddos interact with my family. I love squabbling with my sisters about silly, insignificant issues that make us all laugh and learn. I love looking into the garage and catching a glimpse of Dalliwag and having to convince myself that I am actually looking at him, and not at my brother JD who is in Texas right now. I love hearing everyone laugh as they load up onto four wheelers, motorcycles and dirt bikes to chase each other around the yard and field. Atrain actually rides with Grandpa--can you believe it? I don't let him get on with out a helmet, of course, but he does it. I sure miss you in the scene of all of it. You are an integral part of every conversation we have when we are together. We are all so proud of you and miss you so much. I sure hope you're doing well.

I love you, brother.

Love,

MJ

The Cocoon

Gothridge is building a cocoon. He's shedding his cute furry exterior and building a little home out of it--a home where he can transform into some other creature. We're all enchanted, but somewhat nervous. If he survives his hibernation he may not be as cute as he once was. But he'll still be Gothridge--just with wings. Amazing.

I am like Gothridge. I'm building a home. I'm changing. I was kind of cute, but who knows what I'll look like when I hatch. I don't think I'll have wings, but I hope I can fly.

The Question

Just a few minutes ago Atrain asked me a question that I have been waiting for him to ask me for a few years. We finished our nightly routine: read our scriptures, said our prayers, read a book and made small talk about the day. And then, I kissed him and asked--as I do every night--if he will hand me his cochlears. He looked at me with a small, thoughtful smile and asked,

"Mom, why do I have cochlears?"

My heart filled with love and confidence. I could feel God helping me through the conversation I have been thinking about ever since I held my 5 week old baby with bright red, glowing hearing aids on.

"Some boys and girls have cochlears, and some don't," I said. "Just like some boys and girls have glasses and some don't--some babies need cochlears and some need glasses."

"What do you think about that?" I asked.

"When I take off my cochlear," he said as he proceeded to remove the coil from his head, "I can't hear on that side...watch...hear?"

"Yep." I said. "And did you know that when you were a baby and you didn't have cochlears to hear, God told me that you are so special...and that you would be blessed to hear so well with cochlears."

My heart burned within me and I could feel my eyes start to well up with tears as God reminded me, again, how special the boy staring at me really is. Atrain was nodding his head as he listened intently to every word.

"God loves you so much, Atrain. Ever since you were little, God has told me how much he loves you and how good and special you are." I said.

Atrain grinned kindly and he said, "And when you grow little, you can have cochlears too."

"Maybe," I responded, "I would love to have cochlears, but I will never get to grow little like you...just bigger."

"Then when you are big, you can have cochlears too" he added, and then continued to let me into his world. "And look, when both cochlears are off, it's really hard to hear," he said as he took both off. I mouthed, "wow" at him, and he quickly put them back on with a smile.

"How does that feel?" I asked, honestly curious.

He thought for a moment, and then said, "Kinda scary."

My stomach got a little heavy when those words came so clearly out of his mouth, but I could feel the Spirit move our conversation along. "But momma and daddy are always here, and you are so brave, Atrain. You are the bravest, strongest boy that I know," I said.

"Look!" he said as he flexed his muscles and made a fierce, fighting face. "I am strong."

"I know. I'm so proud of you. And God knows that you are so strong. You make me strong" I said and let a few tears go. "That's a happy tear."

Atrain smiled at me and gave me the biggest hug. I am so proud of that little boy. And tonight during our conversation I was reminded just how much God is aware of him and aware of my mothering needs. I was impressed by how simple, but profound our conversation was. I hope I can raise Atrain to understand what Christ meant when he commanded us to "love thy neighbor as thyself"--a commandment that I am constantly working on. There are all kinds of people in this world, and we need to work to understand and rejoice in our differences and develop empathy for each other's challenges. Atrain doesn't fully understand the challenges ahead of him, just as I can't fully grasp the challenges ahead of me. But, I know that God does. He can help us "turn the other cheek." He can teach us true charity. And, he can prepare us for whatever is to come.

Gothridge, the caterpillar

Today our little family loaded into our little car and took a little drive up the canyon. We were headed to the reservoir where we intended to spend an hour or so skipping rocks. But, as it turns out, it costs five dollars to take the road that leads to the water--a price we were actually willing to pay. (Avoiding a derailment of plans and a disappointed Atrain is definitely worth five bucks). However, it also turns out that the little man in the ridiculous government toll booth didn't have change for a ten. Our brains began buzzing for alternative family entertainment. And, though nothing could top rock skipping, chucking rocks off a lookout point was the next best option--and that's where we met Gothridge.

His little furry body was expanding and contracting like an accordion as his sixteen suction cup legs shuttled across the pebbles on the ridge. I spotted him out of the corner of my eye as Atrain and I backed away from the edge-a squatty little black and rust colored caterpillar sporting an assortment of long grey whiskers. He was cute. So cute, in fact, that I lunged toward it and put my hand forth as a pedestal to crawl up on. And, he did.

Atrain wasn't sure what to think. He was a little aghast by my spontaneous love for the little bug--something that surely doesn't happen often when I encounter odd creatures. But, he was certainly interested as the little caterpillar slinked across my hands. "Do you want to hold it? " I asked. "No," he replied quickly." "Well, should we let it go?" I asked. "Yes, up by the colored leaves," said Atrain. So, we walked a little ways and found a nice place to bid my little bug buddy goodbye. I let him down on the ground, and Atrain and I continued on our way to find a few good rocks for chucking off the mountain side.

I headed up the trail, but Atrain planted his feet near the caterpillar's farewell point. A crinkled look of confusion contorted his face. "Let's get it back!" Atrain said, his voice wavering with emotion. Apparently Atrain's connection to the little bug ran deeper than he anticipated. Sometimes you don't realize how much you like something until it's gone. "OK!" I responded, excitedly. And, we scanned the perimeter of the vicinity. Sure enough, within a few seconds we found our little caterpillar wandering near a few fallen leaves. "Let's find him a home," I said as I picked him up.

Back at the car lied an empty blue water bottle. We filled it with a couple of twigs and a few leaves, then let the little caterpillar climb inside. He looked reasonably content with his new blue surroundings, but I wouldn't know how to tell if he wasn't, either. Atrain sure thought the crawling little bug was happy. "He's climbing up the side!" Atrain said, giggling with glee as he watched the bug's accordion legs work its way up the plastic. Baby J just reached and reached from the husband's arms, itching to take a whack at the blue container everyone seemed so interested in. "I don't think we should keep it," said the husband, "it's not good to take him out of his surroundings...we might kill it." "Really," I replied. "This coming from a man who kills dear every year?" I poked at him. He gave me a defeated smile, then agreed to take our new "pet" home.

Once we were all buckled into the car and headed back down the canyon, Atrain held the blue water bottle on his lap, admiring his new little friend. "It's ok, don't be scared," he said in a high pitched voice as he talked to the caterpillar. "What do you want to name him," I asked. Atrain thought for a few moments, then said, "Gothridge." I shot a surprised smile at the husband, then replied, "Gothridge, huh. That's a good name. Where did you hear that?" Atrain thought again, and then said, "I don't know, he's just Gothridge." "Good name," I repeated approvingly. I sure hope we don't kill him too soon.

Sir Atrain

I have a little hero. Usually he goes by Atrain, but today he was dubbed a knight and adorned with the finest apparel the dollar store had to offer (with a few pieces of armor put on reserve for future "good goodbye" reward purposes). So, with helmet on head and sword in hand, he helped me turn our church into a traffic zone/women's workshop. We drew a road with tape along the entire length of the hallway, littered it with toy cars, and rearranged furniture. "Follow me this way," he said, directing our road construction, and adding "no, no--put that here, not there" if I ever misplaced an element. Sir Atrain is a skilled engineer, and a loyal companion. I don't know what I would have done tonight without his company. He was definitely my knight in shining armor.

One on One

Atrain had a horrible drop off at school today. The kind that make me tear up too. I know I'm supposed to remain robotically matter-of-fact when he throws a fit. But, it is hard when he says, "I'm just so sad, mom," with big tears in his eyes, "I want to be home with you." I love my little man. He really is so brave. And, he puts up with a lot. It's hard to stand my ground and remind myself why going to preschool is so important for him--the listening environment, the peers, the social skills--when he's not excited about it. But I did. And, after I read him a book (the big one, not the little one, per his request) I left him crying, but in good hands.

I question myself a lot with that kid--much more than any other circumstance or relationship in my life. He is deaf. Yes, he can hear miraculously well with his cochlear implants, but when it comes right down to it, he experiences so much that I can't completely understand. When his implants are off, what would it be like to talk--to move your lips and feel words come out--but not be able to hear anything that you said? How would if feel to explain something that's different about yourself to your peers? How frustrating is it to hone into one voice in a crowded room via hearing technology?

I don't know. I'll never really know. But, I will just keep loving him with all that I am. And I'll keep doing everything I can to let him know that he can do great things on his own--even though it hurts to let (or make) him. I think he could use some good one on one time with mommy. Maybe we'll go shopping for a few "good drop off" treasures to look forward to in the next few weeks. Or maybe we'll just go throw rocks into the creek. That will help him recover from our tragic parting this morning. Good thing I left a love note in his lunch box today.

Flu Shot

Today our little family took an afternoon outing to Spork for Baby J's 9 month check up (one month late). He was such a happy little fellow, crawling around the office, standing on everything, shaking his head "no," interjecting into my conversation with the nurse with his "ha ha huh huh" fake laugh. This kid makes me laugh. He is in the 95th percentile for height and the 60th for weight. Another string bean in the family. When the nurse left to prep for his immunizations she asked if we would all like flu shots too. "Sure," I responded, looking at the husband who was nodding, and then at Atrain, who (thankfully) was too busy teasing J to hear what the nurse had asked me. "We won't tell him until it happens," I said to the husband, who agreed to my devious plan.

With Atrain, there are some situations that I should never prepare him for--not many, but there are definitely a few. Getting a flu shot is at the top of the list. Last year I tried to prep him for his flu shot a couple of weeks in advance. That ended with a disastrous, growling, wailing, crying, gnashing of teeth, "Doctor, DON"T TOUCH ME!," episode at our local clinic. He was completely hysterical up until the moment it happened. He watched himself get poked, didn't even wince, and never shed another tear. So, the nurse's suggestion was divine providence.

The nurse came back with baby J's shots in hand. She poked him four times. He wailed. I hated it, and mentally reprimanded myself multiple times for forgetting his blanket. I got a shot. The husband got a shot. And, Atrain was half way out the door when I picked him up and said, "time for your little shot." He threw his head back, roared in disapproval, and then watched as the nurse lifted up his sleeve and stabbed his little arm with the needle. Not even a twitch. It was over almost before it started, and Atrain was pretty proud of his (non)decision to get a flu shot. I was pretty proud of it too.

The Dirty Dash

Trudging through waist deep pools of mud is liberating. It feels like falling backwards 20 years--forgetting about all that worries me now as I slide down hills of dirty slime. My mud run with Famous & co. was a momentary reprieve from adulthood. This morning, all I cared about was how I was going to hoist myself over the 10 foot hay-bail road blocks. Incredible. It was the best birthday gift a gal could ask for.

Huh huh huh

is the sound Baby J makes whenever he feels like he is supposed to laugh. He doesn't have great comic timing. Today he burst into this random fit of forced laughter whenever there was a pause in the conversation--which inevitably makes any interaction hilarious. The husband and I have been cracking up as we imitate his chuckle all night. We sure love our funny little Jdog.

Block Party

Today the husband and I left for Block Island. Esteban and Hilly invited us to their exclusive clam bake wedding celebration on the timeless Block Isle off the coast of Rhode Island. So, I dropped the kiddos off at my Bambie's home and set off for an eastern seaboard adventure.

I was slightly deflated by Atrain's lackluster goodbye. We have been talking about it for weeks, but I expected at least a little separation anxiety. I will miss that little boy so much. He really is my buddy.

Aside from my needless worries, I am so excited--for boogie boarding, beach cruisers, bed and breakfasts, and family bonding. As I stretched out on the floor in our airport terminal, playing bananagrams with the inlaws (getting slammed by Leaf's vocabulary saturated brain), I felt ten years younger--but with little to prove and everything to enjoy.

Best First Day

Atrain doesn't have many 'firsts' that I would consider great. He has a healthy sense of caution, and won't jump into anything without testing the water three or four times. It's a great trait, but it begs a bit of preparation on my part. I didn't want his first day of school to pan out like his previous year. Too many "I'm crying so much because I miss you so much, Mom" are too much for my mother heart to bear.

So, we've been preparing for his first day of school for a while now. We took a couple dips into his classroom weeks before his teacher arrived on the premises. Then, on "meet your teacher day," we stayed well beyond our allotted time frame, just to be sure he got a good feel of every nook and cranny of the classroom. And today, baby J and I hung around until Atrain acclimated. Finally, after rug time introductions and a mommy book reading, he was ready. "You can go now," he said, but quickly followed it up with, "but be back in two minutes." (the latest phrase he says to daddy in the morning). "Ok," I said.

"Two minutes" later, I was back to get him. He was happy to see me--without a no thanks for stranding me note. He told me about how his classroom critter, Vinny Boom Botts the vinegaroon, eats crickets. He told me about how much he likes playing with Shoshee. And he told me how excited he was to get his drop off treasure. I was excited to give it to him. We earned it.

Classroom Critters

Atrain and I had orientation at his new school today. We met his teachers and their classroon critter, a vinegaroon. It's a six inch long bug that has pinchers, no eyes and eats only crickets. Atrain was captivated. He spent the entire time examining it with a magnifying glass. I have a creepy feeling we will be catching a lot of crickets this year. Can't wait.

Missionary Monday

Dear J.D.,

Well, today was missionary Monday. I have been such a lousy writer lately, I'm sorry that I neglected (again) to send you an email before you opened it. Regardless, I will send this to you late...just so you know that I have been thinking about you--just so you know that I love you. You are still ever-so-much a part of our lives. We think and talk about you most every day. For some reason, whenever I think of you in Texas, I imagine you in your missionary get-up, plus your huge leather belt and buckle. They don't allow you to wear that going door to door, do they? I can't wait to see it in person.

The past twenty four hours were fabulous. I feel so happy and rejuvenated for some odd reason. My worries feel a little lighter lately, which is wonderful. The husband's residency applications in. We've done all that we can on our end to try to secure him a great spot in a great program. Now we're just praying that God will guide us through the rest. And I know taht He will. The husband will be interviewing for spots in residency programs all over the country (hopefully) in the next few months. As I look forward to the next year I'm excited about all of the unknowns in store. Wherever we go, I just hope it's somewhere I can feel safe pushing the boys in the double jogger around our neighborhood. That, or exploring on a bike while pulling the boys in a trailer behind. I borrowed Bambie's bike-trailer hook up today and rode around Spork for an hour and a half. There's something about knowing the back roads to a city that makes it feel like home.

Bambie, Allerina, Jdog, Diva and I had a sleepover last night while the boys went fishing at Raspberry reservoir. I love my sisters. Allerina and I practiced her lines for "Cinerella" while Diva contently combed through my hair for an hour. Honestly, an hour. Perhaps I should teach Atrain how to brush my hair. Allerina is so adorable. She's so dramatic--and not just while she's rehearsing her lines (as you know). I'm so proud of her already. I can't wait to witness her first kiss (that doesn't count) on stage.

I got a call from Atrain early in the AM telling me that he had caught his first fish on Grandpa's boat. I guess Atrain was the first one of the crew to rise this morning, bright and early at 4am. So, he was the lucky grandson to be the first on the lake. And, the early bird catches the fish. He was so proud of himself. The husband is such a good daddy. He forgot to bring extra clothing layers, and shivered through the chill of the crisp fall air just to help his son be a happy camper. Atrain and the husband are a good pair. When they came home, Atrain just kept saying, "I just want to tell you all about it, mom!" And, new information continues to surface every hour. Seems like it was an awesome trip.

So, my dear brother, I'm so glad you found a few new people to teach last week. I'm glad you have had great success with the language. God gives us so many things. I have been so blessed, and I hope to use all that He gives to glorify Him. This Sunday we read the most beautiful passage of scripture. As my eyes read over the words, they wrote themselves on my mind. It is 2 Corinthians, chapter 4, v6-10. "For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us. We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted but not forsaken; cast down ,but not destroyed; Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

I treasure the gospel of Jesus Christ. I am so thankful for my Savior, Jesus Christ. Life is hard. It downright stinks sometimes, and I feel troubled and cast down and perplexed often. But, I'm not distressed. I am not in despair. And, I know that I will never be forsaken. I pray that I can give all that I have and all that I am back to Him. It's not easy, and I'm such a sinner, and so imperfect. But I'm going to keep trying--because that is when I remember and feel deep in my heart what this life is really all about.

I sure love you. Happy missionary Monday.

Love, MJ

The Prince

I had a spontaneous sleep over with my sisters tonight. The boys are away on a labor day fishing trip, so we took advantage of a little time to talk, tease and (of course) brush up on our waltz skills. My little soon-to-be Cinderella sister was rehearsing lines for her upcoming high school musical debut. I played the part of the Prince--and the evil step mother and the awkward step sisters. I have always had a dark desire to play the part of a villain. It's probably extremely fun to pretend to be evil.

But, tonight I was the dashing prince. My sister and I had a splendid time at the ball, singing "my head started reeling, you gave me the feeling, the room had no ceiling or floor" to each other, and concentrating on the most appropriate way to approach the real prince about the kiss. You see, neither Cinderella nor the prince have ever kissed anyone before. May I repeat myself: if you would like to witness my little sister's first kiss (although, of course it doesn't "count"), be sure to get tickets to the show. Also, if you have any first kiss tips that are better than mine--which I'm sure they are--do feel obliged to share them. My "just ask him which way he wants to lean" advice wasn't cutting it, according to Allerina.

I simply can't wait for opening night. It will be a ball.

No No

Today Jdog started shaking his head "no," and he showed off his new skill a lot today. I'm not quite sure if he knows exactly what "no" means, but he jerks his big head back and forth so convincingly. It's as if that's the only word that has ever meant anything to him--more than "dado" and "manumnum." Oh how I love his babbling titles (though I could do without him diving at my chest saying "numnumnum"...oh how the husband laughs at that trick).

Jdog uses the "no" gesture whenever I try to shove rice cereal down his throat, or any grain cereal for that matter. He shakes his head vigorously when Atrain or I begin dragging him away from something he's interested in. And, he signs "no" whenever he wants to get my attention, as if to say, "No, manumnum, no more of whatever meaningless thing you're doing. You need to appropriately acknowledging how adorable I am right now." If only his "no-s' could forever seem so sweet.