I Love to See The Temple...

Kevin and I have decided that if we're going to get to the temple, it's going to have to be separately. It just doesn't happen when we wait for the magic moment when both of our schedules are open and we have a babysitter for Kyle.

And so it was that Kevin headed out for the temple Wednesday afternoon. As he packed his bag, Kyle asked:

"Where are you going, Daddy?"

Kevin: "To the temple."
Kyle: "Why?"
Kevin: "So I can be a better person and better dad."
Kyle: "And so you won't tease me anymore?"

How is it that children see the world much clearer than we ever do? Oh, to have a child's perspective again.

Anatomy of a Mermaid

"The Little Mermaid" has become our new family favorite. 20 years ago Ruth viewed it in the theater and the magic has never left. For Kyle, however, this is a new favorite, and in reality, probably just the flavor-of-the-month.

I never thought a singing mermaid would lead to such interesting conversations in our house. For instance:

Kyle: "Mom, what's a human?"
Ruth: "We're humans. A human has legs and arms, and a mermaid has fins."
Kyle: "Yeah, we have arms and legs and toes...." (spastically waving all appendages around)
Ruth: "Yes, and mermaids have fins."
Kyle: "Yeah, a mermaid has fins. And these (pointing to his chest). What's these called, Mom?"
-PAUSE-
Ruth: "Those are seashells. Those are her clothes."
Kyle: "Hey, I have seashells! Grandma and Grandpa got me some seashells! And I can wear seashells, too?"
Ruth: "Umm, I guess. Do you want to play a game now?"

The change-of-conversation trick worked this time, but it's not going to work forever. I hear that today's children require "the birds and the bees conversation" at a much earlier age, but I'm definitely not ready for that. Besides, that's Kevin's job, right?

Smooth...

So, Kyle and I are in the kitchen tonight, me making dinner and Kyle reading a story. As I'm stirring the milk into the mac n' cheese (Kevin was gone, so it was just the two of us), I hear Kyle mumbling to himself.

"So cute," I think to myself. "He thinks he's really reading a story."

But as he repeated the same phrase over and over, I tried to decipher what he was saying.

"What's that, Kyle? Smooth?"

And with a smile on his face, Kyle repeated the phrase for the umpteenth time. Only this time, I got it.

"Smooooooth....Budlight."

I kid you not, my child had been repeating that awful slogan for the past 10 minutes.

"Where did you learn that?" I asked.

"From T.V. That's what Budlight always says, Mom."

Granted, my child probably watches more television than he should, but it's usually Disney Channel or PBS. I can't imagine where he saw a beer ad.

The only thing I can figure is he saw it while watching sports with Daddy on ESPN. But we won't blame Kevin - we'll just censor more carefully.

My funny Valentine

What you're looking at is a scrap of a cookie. Yes, a scrap of a cookie. But it's a special scrap of a cookie. Afterall, my little boy gave it to me.

He came home from preschool today and excitedly handed me the cookie (looking exactly like this) and said:

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mom! This is for you! I already ate part of it on the way home, but that's okay."

Gee, I feel special.

Cookie Dough

Making chocolate chip cookies with Kyle today reminded me of my all-time favorite picture of him:


The mischievious little grin is that of an 18-month-old who thinks he's died and gone to heaven after his first taste of cookie dough.

I love it so much that I think I'll enlarge it and hang it in my kitchen.

Clown

I've heard horror stories of children and finger paints, so I've been amazed to watch my son at work. He neatly dips his finger in the paint, colors on the paper, then wipes it clean on a napkin. He repeats the process over and over until he's successfully mixed all the colors on his paper into a big puddle of brown.

Until today. I left him to fingerpaint by himself and went back into the study to work. 10 minutes later, he bursts into the room looking like this:

The picture doesn't do it justice, but he had blue paint from head to toe. Apparently, while he was working he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and noticed he had a little blue paint on his nose. Deciding he looked like a "clown", he determined to finish the job.

Well, this little clown had his face washed immediately, but maybe the seeds have been planted for next Halloween...

Winter Campout

The weather's been nice here in Utah, but not nice enough for camping. So when Kyle suggested we go camping, we decided to do it in our living room. We pitched the tent, built a fort, cooked tinfoil dinners and even ate marshmallows (not roasted, of course). The TV was off for the night, so we played card games. It was a night of family fun.

• Bag of marshmallows: $1.69

• Potatoes & Carrots for tinfoil dinners: $4.00

• Being able to crawl into your own bed when the floor gets uncomfortable: PRICELESS

Lessons

We just had our first swimming lessons and it was a literal, and figurative, FLOP. I had this sinking feeling in the back of my mind that Kyle wasn't going to go for it, but I decided to give it a try.

Day 1: We show up to class, meet his teacher and four other classmates and Kyle practices floating on his back. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, he's actually doing it. Maybe this will be good." Wrong. He proceeds to spend the rest of the hour playing by himself 15 feet away.

Day 2: We have a big talk and he agrees to participate in the lesson, with a promise of playing afterwards. Surprisingly, he performs spectacularly, loves every minute of it, and makes his mom so proud.

Day 3: I'm thinking we're on a roll. Wrong again. Kyle says, "Mommy, on one day I didn't do the lesson. On another day I did the lesson. So today I won't do the lesson, okay?" We went to class and he cried the whole time.

There are four lessons left, but I think we're calling it quits. I could drag him to class everyday to make sure I get my money's worth. But why do that when I can torture him at home (by picking up his toys) for free?

Small accomplishments

Anyone who knows me would likely say that nursery is the last place I would like to be every Sunday. And anyone who's known me for the last 6 months while I've had the calling of nursery leader would likely tell you that it's been a struggle. A struggle to find fulfillment in "babysitting" for other people as they're uplifted and edified each and every week.

Don't get me wrong - I love the little buggers. I really do. And there's nothing like a big goodbye hug from a two-year-old to tell you that someone thinks you're pretty fantastic. But it can be hard, to say the least.

But this week I had the ultimate victory. Something better than hugs and kisses or perfectly behaved children. My darling little pupil who has refused to stay in nursery without her daddy for the last year stayed. Because of me. Because she wanted to be brave and be my special helper. Because she thought I was fun. Heck, she even wanted to take me home with her afterwards!

I call that a sweet victory. A victory made even sweeter when I received gushing "thank-you's" from her parents afterwards. Perhaps I am doing somebody a little bit of good.