Tractors don't go moooo

GM1 is a freak for the movie Cars.  He could watch it all day and at times demands to do so.  Today he brought a toy tractor to his Mother and said, "Mooo."  When the kid thinks tractors mooo he's been watching Cars too much don't you think?

A Piano Recital

Yesterday DG8 had his first piano recital.  He played Three Blind Mice and The Library.  He was a little stiff at the keyboard and said he was afraid, but I was impressed.  At the last minute his teacher informed him he would be doing Three Blind Mice without being able to see the music AND HE DID IT!  He slowed in the middle for a minute, but all in all, WOW!  I was proud.  Good job DG8.

DG8 was shy about bowing and wouldn't bow by himself.  When the other kids stood at the end to bow he stood in the back.  One day he have to find the courage to bow, but for now the recital is plenty.

When will I get taller?

Today WG6 asked Mom, "When will I grow taller?" 

That book they're holding has 100 reading lessons in it.  WGs Mom acquired the book on the recommendation of a friend and reviewed almost every lesson with him herself and togther they worked to make sure the kid can read. 

I think they can both stand a little taller.  What a good kid.  What a great Mom.

Pinewood Derby #1 The Debut of DG8

Dg8 is our local, neighborhood scout.  As an 8 year old he has the opportunity for the next few years to participate in the pinewood derby races with his troop.  This year was his first year, and I do mean his.  I'm not a fan of father's who put more effort into their son's pinewood derby car than their sons do. 

So we bought the kit.  He marked the profile of the shape he wanted from his car and I cut it out on the bandsaw.  He sanded the car, stained it...yes stained it because he wanted the natural wood to show through, polished the axels while I held the drill and adivsed, determined the placement of the weight, put on the cars number, placed graphite on the wheels and axels and made sure the wheels were square and level.

I advised.  I looked up ideas on the internet, bought the weights, showed him how to sand and stain, let him put on the numbers even though I didn't think they were perfect (he did though), taught him how to polish the axels as he did so and I did push on the wheels instead of using a hammer.

It was his first race.  As we sat there pre-race he said, "I don't think I'm going to do very good."  I said, "Son, you don't plant a seed thinking the things not going to come up.  You did your best, let's see what happens."  Later he admitted he was doubting himself.

Race 1 Heat 1:  2nd place
Race 2 Heat 1:  1st place
Race 3 Heat 1:  1st place
Race 4 Heat 1:  1st place  and advance to the 2nd and final heat

Race 1 Heat 2:  1st place
Race 2 Heat 2:  1st place
Race 3 Heat 2:  2nd place
Race 4 Heat 2:  1st place

Overall Performance: 2nd place out of 37 cars and 3 troops.  Not bad for a Doubting Thomas!

We looked up some stuff on the internet, but in retrospect I think it was the profile shape he chose.  It may have been serendipitous, but I believe it allowed for the center of gravity to be an inch or so in front of the rear axle.  I think the distribution of weight made the car very stable and allowed for a smooth ride.  Dg8s car was simple and beautiful.  Way to go Dg8.

Mom

On February 10, 2012 @ 5:55 am Mom passed.  Her husband of 21 years was with her, as was her mother and her Aunt Pauline.  She had a short bout with Cancer.  The doctors called it Adenocarcinoma NOS (not otherwise specified).  Dr. D explained the cancer was "wild and fast."  Wild because it was spreading everywhere and fast because the tumors/lesions were fast growing. 

We visited at Thanksgiving.  She was having some pain then between her shoulder blades and hips.  A scan identified serious deterioration in C5, C6, and C7 between her shoulder blades.  She had torn her meniscus in her left knee and thought the pain in her hip was from compensating for the bum knee.  It wasn't from compensating.  The cancer was deteriorating the hip closest to the spine she just didn't know that yet.  It was a good visit.  She and Steve took us and the kids to the Imagination Station and we all had fun.  She got to see her GM1 toddling around and generally being very demanding.

On Dec 8th the doc told my Mother that if she were 80 he'd tell her to go home and enjoy the rest of her life, but since she was 61 and healthy it would be worth an attempt at treatment.  At first she was very matter of fact about it all.  "I'm dying," she said.  I think Steve talked her into trying treatment.  She did.  The chemo was a shot in the dark because they couldn't type the cancer, they couldn't determine the origin.  As such, they weren't sure which chemo cocktail might be effective.

She lost her hair and the pain meds put her down for much of the time.  In the end, not only did the cancer spread, but the existing tumors grew.  It was only a matter of time then.

The Monday before I arrived she felt a great presssure in her chest.  It scared her.  She asked her husband to get her Mother and Sister next door.  She told Steve to call the kids.  She went to the hospital to stay.

In the beginning there was talk of getting her home, but her pain management required close attention and pills were not an option.  I arrived late Tuesday and showed up at the hospital on Wednesday morning about 10:30.  When she saw me she said, "My son."  The only time I saw her cry was very shortly after that.  It seemed a cry of sorrow.  It was very brief and it was with Steve very close.  She was strong about her prognosis.

That day over 30 people came to visit her in the hospital.  Though she kept saying they had just given her meds and she was probably going to sleep she only dozed about 40 minutes between my arrival that morning and 5:30 that night.  She was funny and consoling.  She comforted as much as she was comforted.  Grandma said, "She needed that."  I agree.  It was good for her.  What we learned though was that she wasn't pushing her pain pump so she would be awake for her company.  It took some time after that to get her pain back under control.  Dr. D chided her the next day and asked that she pare back the company so she could rest.  That Wednesday was her best day.

A big number

Today WG6 went to his first soccer practice.  At practice he got his jersey, a sporty bright green thing with the number 34 on the back.  When WG6 saw the number he exclaimed, "How many people are on my team?"

Words fill my soul

This morning I left the house around 7:15.  School is out and everyone was still asleep when I quietly shut the front door.  It was cold outside.  Ice on the windshield.  I crawled into the Suburban, turned the ignition and the wipers on.  I waited for the ice to melt.  As the wipers brushed away the bottom part of the ice I noticed WG6 at the top of the driveway waving to me.

I waved back and then motioned for him to get in the vehicle with me.  When he climbed up I wrapped my arms around him and held him close.  "What in the heck are you doing waving at me, outside and in your underwear pal?"  "I was waving because I love you so much." 

It's these moments I hold close when the world crowds in.  I am grateful to live, to love and to be loved.  I am grateful.

GM1, Me, and WG6 picking out a tree: Christmas 2011

"Dad, will you check on me?"

I don't know why it started, but one day it did. Dg8 just started showing up in the bedroom after he had gone to bed.

"Dad I'm scared."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know.  I just feel so lonely.  I love you so much."
"Well I love you too.  And we're here and your fine so go to bed."
"Will you check on me?"
"Yes."
"Will you check on me a lot?"
"Yes Dg8 now go to bed."

Everynight he would ask me.  "Will you check on me?"  "Yes."  "But will you check on me a lot?"  "Yes buddy, now go to bed."  Sometimes he would come down crying.  I told him he didn't have to wait until he was so distraught he was crying.  He could just come down.  He accepted the offer and began to come downstairs looking sad.  Occassionally, he would bring his beddings and sleep on the floor at the foot of our bed.

Over time this evolved.  We tried praying, which he says helps and he is now doing everynight.  We tried breathing in and breathing out and just focusing on breathing.  After awhile we tried to tap into his positive imagination.  All attempts had limited effect.  He eventually started to ask me to pray with him each night when I went to check on him.  And finally, he wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be asleep before him.
I almost never go to sleep before Dg8, but one night after the process began I did and he reminds me of it everynight.  "Dad, will you check on me?"  "Yes."  "Will you check on me a lot?"  "Yes.  Tons."  "Will you pray with me if I'm awake when you come up?"  "Yes, of course."  "Are you going to go to sleep before me?"  "No, I never do Dg8."  "You did that one night."   Uggghhh.

At times it was ridiculous.  On our vacation we passed through Missouri.  My Grandfather called it "Misery" when he was alive.  He hated to drive through "Misery."  We got a hotel after midnight one night.  I was beat.  The room had double queen beds.  We put GM1s pack and play between the beds.  I lay down with my hand over the bed so GM1 had something to hold and to comfort him, though the room was fairly lit.  Dg8 lay on the side closest to me and while staring at me, two feet away he said it all again.  "Dad, will you check on me?"

He hasn't been down in our room in quite some time.  And every time I check on him now he's asleep, though he never fails to ask the questions.  For awhile I was frustrated, but I think everyone needs the same kinds of comfort Dg8 is asking for.  We need to know someone is there and that they're checking on us.  And sometimes we need to know their checking on us a lot and that we won't be alone.

The Gateway Arch in St. Louis

When I was a boy I would look out my 2nd floor window over the pines the rich people planted to keep the courts private from us next door.  I looked into the court where anonymous people played at night in their white shorts, polo shirts and sweatbands.  The lights didn't go out until 10pm and during the summer my windows would be open.  I could hear the crickets and the thwack of the ball.  Thwack-thud-thwack-thud.

I always thought the girls, on the other side of the upstairs, got a raw deal.  I don't remember them ever having a tough time sleeping, but I did.  When no one was playing I would sneak down the stairs, placing my boy's feet carefully around the creaking boards.  When the t.v. was in the right spot I might watch with immunity for quite awhile.  When the t.v. was in the wrong place I could sit very safely and listen.  At some point I would wake up and stagger to my bed.

A Conference

dg8's teacher is Mrs. M.  Yesterday I went for a parent teacher conference where Mrs. M. reviewed a beginning of the year reading and math assessment.  It shakes out like this:
Reading: Accuracy @ 95% which just means he accurately identifies 95% of the words he reads.  Words per minute comes in @ 46.  The theory is that this can impact his comprehension score which is 7 out of 10.  Apparently, the slower you read and the longer it takes to get through a sentence, the more you forget by the time you get to the end of that sentence.   Reading with feeling is 3 out of 3...excellent.  This puts him at a reading level N...3rd grade reading level.  The takeaway?  Focus on words per minute and the payoff is greater comprehension.

I explained that dg8 seems much improved since the beginning of the year.  We expected him to read over the summer, which he did; the Magic Tree house series.  It didn't seem like he'd improved much, but since school started he is reading everything.  Nothing can be spelled in front of him any longer.  He's sharper and more insightful.  The teacher agrees.

Today she performed her own assessment.  The results are that dg8 has more than doubled his words per minute to 101.  He's doing great and his assessments are another data point showing us what we already know, he's bright.  We just have to keep him working.

Oh yeah, he's pretty good at math too.  Watch, he'll end up doing something mathy.

A Child's Prayer

wg6 has begun to give thanks for gravity during prayers.  I mean really, who doesn't appreciate gravity.  Think of what it makes possible.  What a kid.

Fire Truck Beds

NH bought a firetruck bed for dg when he was moving from the crib to a bed.  It was $50 and we bought it a few streets over at a yard sale in our neighborhood.  The bed was read in, bad guys were vanquished there and little ones even managed to squeeze under the thing for hide-and-seek.  It would be safe to say the boys loved the bed.  Heck, we all loved the bed.

Enter gm1.  He's in a crib, but it was very important for NH to have THE bed that worked for the other boys.  The search began.  After lots of time on Craig's list and lots of bartering and a long drive an identical bed was found and brought home. I gave NH a hard time for going to such great lengths over this little bed, but as I look at these pictures and remember I see now that she was right to want the same special memories for gm1 we all had with the other boys.  Here is gm1.  I don't think there is any question that he will love it as much as his brothers.

It's like a roller coaster, only more holy.

Today was our annual Primary Program.  dg8 had a pretty big part and some lines, but woke up with pretty serious stomach pains and I stayed home with him.  NH took wg6 and I'm told the program went well.  wg6 took his turn at the podium, "I went to the Gila Valley Temple.  It was like being on a rollercoaster, only more holy."

We carved pumpkins today.  I might say I don't enjoy it.  I'm a curmudgeon about Halloween in general if you want to know the truth.  But the kids love it and so does their Mom and I love them.  I try to dial down the curmudgeoniness.

This morning wg6 walked me outside as I left for work.  This is unusual.  I said I love you and waved.  He said he loved me and waved.  It made me feel wonderful.  Then on the way home from lunch I received a wonderful e-mail from NH.  I feel loved.

Here is wg6 opening bday presents.  He loves the bathrobe is mom got him.  He's a wonderful boy.

Baptism Birthday

He's been excited for a few months about his "baptism birthday." I was very excited for his baptism as well. Grandma Margie and Grandpa Greg came and so did his big sister and Christer. He remarked how warm the water was. He seemed very excited.

KM20 asked me how it felt to baptize my first child. I said, "I won't be having that privilege today." She looked confused briefly and then understood I was referring to her. Dg8 over heard a conversation between KM20 and his mother in which KM said to her, "Well, one down and two to go." NH explained that there were three to go. When we got home Dg8 explained that there were 3 baptisms to go and not two, that she needed to be baptized also.

I felt the spirit with us on the day of Dg's baptism and I believe the blessing of heaven were with us. It brings me great joy to see this wonderful boy choose to do what is right. I hope that he always may be so wise and strive to be like Jesus.

GML0

Last October little GML was born. He's coming up on one. He standing, he's happy, we love him very much. Behold the boy.

 

Santa Frauds

Last week Dg7 asked me if Santa's elves were real. I said I didn't know, but somebody had to make all of those toys. It was weak. I sensed he believed I was lying. At some point the cute white lie becomes an ugly one.

"I've seen lots of Santas." "Yes, I know, he has many helpers," I offer. He's old enough to know the truth and what's more I believe it is right that he should be told the truth by us, that the time has come for him.

I worried briefly if it's a loss of innocence. Ultimately I come to the conclusion that he's growing and that how he sees the world is changing and will change. Much of how he sees the world will be from outside pressures his friends, t.v., school, etc... I guess with Santa I have an opportunity to change it on my terms and at the same time maintain a healthy level of trust with Dg7.

Let's face it, Santa is always a horrible lie. The magical myth masks the true power of the Savior and the salvation of mankind. The Savior's love, life, and atonement are where the real feelings of hope and charity come from that make the season bright to begin with.

Maybe this Christmas the only presents we give in our house will be ones we make. Wouldn't that be a switch. And maybe then we could dodge the long tendriled arm of master marketers who want it to be about them. It doesn't have to be. We decide it by what we do.

What a great blessing Dg7 is. I cherish the little guy.

I went too far

Today I watched an old cheesy sci fi with the boys. It's pretty bland and I wasn't too worried about them getting scared.

I was wrong. The doppleganger was too much and Dg7 didn't take it well. He was crying and dramatic and I was unsympathetic and remorseful.

During family prayer his younger brother prayed and it went something like this..."Dear Heavenly Father, please bless that the creepy guys with the scary black eyes will leave Dg7s mind so he won't remember it anymore. And also that he won't remember their long creepy black claws that they sneak up on you and get you with. And also please bless that he know that people won't really sneak up on you when they're really someone else, but you think their not and then they kill you." I appreciated the intent, but the level of detail could not have possilbly been comforting for Dg7.

I screwed up.

Opinionated

Wg4, "The world is important."
"It is?"
"Yeah, and so are refrigerators. Refrigerators are important to hold your food."
"Oh."

He disappears into the bathroom, me on the computer and a minute later.

"That's a pretty long poo poo for one man." Then he talks at length about turtles.
"And Dad?"
"Yes."
"I got stabbed through the hand one time with a fork."
"Oh yeah."
"Yeah. I was trying to use my magic to get the watermelon seeds off."
"Oh."
"But I couldn't do it."

And on and on. How is it possible not to love your kids?

The Baby

She felt the baby move yesterday. Very nice.

Gila Valley Temple Open House

As we toured the Temple today my father held the hands of my sons. I also held the hand of my oldest son. When we walked through the endowment room door I was struck that the very purpose of the temple is to forge the links between generations, sealing them together back to Adam. I don't think I'll ever forget that moment.

Another notable moment was during the 12 minute presentation before the tour when the speaker talked about doing baptisms for the dead in the Temple. Dg6 turned to me and said, "Are you gonna do that for Grandma Daisy?"
"I have to ask Paw Paw first. He has to give me permission. But then Mom will do it, and I will perform the ordinance."

I'm amazed at how well these young boys understand. What a great blessing they both are.

Honesty. Honestly!

Wg4 is a wonderful boy. But he is 4 and is often at the mercy of his own zeal. Today as we left the temple open house for the Gila Valley Temple Wg4 pinched his brother. I was not happy. I explained that not only would he not get any dessert the rest of the day, but that he would get to see his brother double up because he was going to get both desserts.

Wg4 was not happy, but he gets it. He's not supposed to pinch. I was being leaned on pretty heavily when Dg6's giant fried ice cream showed up so I resolved to make a lesson of it.

I sat Dg6 on my left knee and Wg4 on my right knee after Dg6 was finished, but there was still dessert remaining. "Dg6, are you willing to forgive your brother and let him forgo his punishment and have some of what's left of your dessert?"
"Yes."
"And Wg4, if you promise to stop pinching you may have some dessert. Do you promise to stop pinching." Faint mumbling. "What?"
"I think."
"No, that's not good enough, you must promise."
A thoughtful pause and then Wg4 says, "Then no, I don't want any dessert," and begins to slide off of my lap. I laughed out loud. It was wonderfully obvious he was being honest with himself and he was being honest with us. Several of us laughed out loud.
"Wait a minute come here. Why won't you promise?"
"It's too hard."
"Okay then, will you try your very best to stop pinching?"
"Yes."
"Dg6, is that good enough."
"Yes." (He would regret this as soon as the ride home.)
"Okay, you can have some dessert."

How can you not love the kid's integrity and his brother's willingness to forgive him. Good boys!

Brilliant Boy

As we prepared to have Dg6 take a test that would enable him to enter the gifted program in our district I asked him, "Do you want to be a part of the gifted program?"
"No. Well, will we get to learn about dinosaurs?"
I exhange a look with his mother, "Well, I don't know, maybe."
"Then no."

At this point I did what all good parents do, I incentivized.
"You get to take a half day from class and go to a class where you'll do different fun activities."
"No. I don't want to do that."

Step 3, drop it and make him go if he gets in.

A week later he came home and I asked, "How was your day pal?" He usually responds with "good" or "okay" or "I don't know." On this day he said, "I had to do a big book of homework today in school." I didn't know what that meant and I let it slide. Later I learned this was the day he was tested for entrance into the gifted program.

His scores???? 98th percentile for Verbal, 81st percentile for Quantitative, and 91st percentile for Non-Verbal. Scores between 30th and 70th percentiles are considered average. You must score over 97th percentile in any one category to enter the gifted program. Well done little man.

He pays attention. He works hard. He has natural ability. Now we just need to nurture it.

Nightmares

Last night Wg4 woke me at 2:30am. He'd had a nightmare. "I'm sorry buddy. Come here." I cradled him up into the bed and held him close.

"What was your nightmare pal?"
"I dreamed that aliens were coming and they were going to take me away from you guys."
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's okay pal. There are no real aliens. Don't worry." He was really scared.

As I've noted it is our rule that there be no kids in the bed during sleeping. After awhile I put him on the ground and told him I'd hold his hand. He locked on with a two hand death grip I thought might eventually pull me out of bed. I relented after a few minutes and told him he could come up. I put him on the inside, we lay close and I told him the rules; no snoring and no farting. I think we slept pretty well three in a bed.

Dg6 doesn't come in anymore. He used to and he would sleep on the ground and I would put my hand down and that worked. He was either obedient and endured his discomfort or a little braver. It does seem that all of Wg4's feelings are a little bigger. Higher highs and lower lows.

Apparently Wg4's nightmare is recurring. Nightmare's stink. This morning Wg4 informed me that he had obeyed my request and that no snoring or gas passing had occurred. What a ham.

A boy, a Bob, a bite, a blog

Last Summer we went to San Diego on vacation. We were there a week. Jared and Marza had gotten an Akita. He was a rescue dog. He was a few years old. He had been wonderful, tolerant with the kids. So when Wg3 was near Bob the dog's bed petting him we didn't really give it a second thought.

Bob the dog. That's what we called him. Sometimes just Bob, but mostly Bob the dog. Bob had been in some street fights and had surgery to fix up some mangled ears. I think they were still sensitive. So that when Wg3 was being obnoxious, and I'm sure he was... he's an active, even over-active boy, he hit Bob the dog in a sensitive spot. Bob snapped at him once. Thank God only once.

Naomi screamed and I came to pick Wg3 up. Damage assessment. I saw a gash on his chin. I remember thinking it was weird that it wasn't bleeding. I walked him into the bathroom to take a closer look. I think everyone else was in shock. I looked inside his mouth. There were two puncture wounds inside Wg3's mouth and a gash on his chin. All his teeth were in place. His tongue looked okay.

I carried Wg3 to the car. As I put him in the car Wg3 asked, "Dad, am I gonna die?" "No son, you're not gonna die. We're just going to the hospital." Uncle Jared went along with us to show me the way to the hospital.

When we got there we were seen right away. I don't want to insinuate that it was quick, we were there 3 or 4 hours, but we were admitted into an interior waiting room right away. Wg3 was very anxious about getting any "stingy stuff." To you and I this is a shot. I told him he wouldn't need one, that it would be okay. It turns out I was wrong.

All I remember between the time we were admitted and the time the doc showed up is that I wanted to comfort him. We lay together and we talked and I stroked his head and I felt helpless. When the doc showed up we talked about what would happen. To do the stitches they would inject Novocaine into the gash. This would numb the area for the stitches.

I turned him over to the doctor. He resisted of course and they pinned him down and he screamed and he cried. "My Dad said there wouldn't be any stingy stuff. Dad! Dad! Help me! My Dad said there wouldn't be any stingy stuff. Dad! Daddy!" I was right there. I was useless.

By all estimates the doctor was very quick. I was amazed actually at how quick he was. I'd guess 90 seconds for the whole thing. I wanted to cry though. I want to cry now. They gave him back to me and I tried to just hold him. I wanted to absorb his pain, to take it from him, but of course I couldn't.

He never cried during the bite. Maybe it just happened so quickly or he was stunned or it just wasn't a sensitive spot, but he never cried then, not until the Novocaine. It turns out the mouth is very vascular and they didn't do a thing for the puncture wounds inside the mouth. Sure enough, a few days later and you could hardly tell Bob had bitten him inside his mouth.

Wg4's back in the saddle, petting dogs. He's himself I'd say. He's gregarious and bold, intrepid even. We love him very much.

I don't blame Bob the dog any more than I blame Wg3. They are what they are. Jared and Marza got rid of the dog. I feel bad about that, but am grateful I don't have to see Bob anymore. The scar on Wg4's chin is almost invisible. We've tried to care for it. You'd never know it happened I think.

But I know it happened. I've never felt so scared, so useless, so worthless, so humble all in one day.

Inspiration

Lately I've been talking with another company about a job. NH is preggers. We love our ward. We love our neighborhood. We love our house. We love the elementary school. We love our neighbors...and we're contemplating moving. Hmmm.

I prayed and fasted Sunday. It was fast Sunday after all and as I sat on the stand a scripture came into my mind; "Be still and know that I am God." I know it was an answer to my prayer. I think I'll just cool my heels and see what happens. I know God loves me.

The VP comes down on Thursday to meet face to face. Hmmm.