Happy Thanksgiving!

Pretty corny picture, eh? (bah dum bum). Jer is in there, too - he's holding Macie. I'm thinking this picture could be the perfect Christmas Card.

We hope you all have a wonderful and grateful Thansgiving!

More adventures in parenting

Does this make me a good mom or a bad mom??

Let me explain.

Yes, I let my kids play with a bucket of beans. It is one of their favorite things to do, and I only get it out like once a month. BUT, we do have rules.

1) the beans stay in the kitchen on the tile.

2) you can only get 5 utensils out of my utensil drawer to use.

Apparently the girls forgot the rules yesterday.

I got the beans out and then went upstairs to iron (not even something fun like "I went upstairs to read a good book or watch TV."). I was gone about 20 minutes and came downstairs to this mess. I was not a happy mom. I'm fine with sweeping beans up in the kitchen, but I hate trying to get them off the carpet, and the couch, and I'm still finding them in odd places throughout the house. I filled the sink up with soap and water for all my utensils and made Lindsay wash them all - which she thought was oodles of fun - so I imagine she'll be making this mess again next time just so she can wash the dishes by hand.

I will admit I have been ignoring my children just a tad lately. This sewing thing is a time-sucker. I have made 3 adorable skirts that you'll just have to wait and see. I'm hoping to get a cute picture of them together in their skirts for our Christmas cards. Skirt #1 took me 5 hours, skirt #2 only 2 1/2, skirt #3 (which Maddie said, "I don't even want a skirt." and I said, "Too bad, I already bought the fabric.") only took me 3 hours - with a whiny Macie following me around saying "Momma, lay with me....watch a movie with me....hold me...." I felt a little bad ignoring her, but not bad enough to stop. :) Then last night I tried making pj pants for the girls for Christmas - WOW - they only took about 20 minutes. I guess I should have started my sewing career with pants, not incredibly difficult skirts.

I should also say a big THANK YOU to my mom, my mother-in-law, Robin, Kerry, Kat, and even my dad. These people all received phone calls about my sewing projects. I started spacing out who I would call- "No, I just called Robin, now I should call Mary. Just called Mary, now I'll try Mom." So I didn't look so dumb to just one person. Yes, I even asked my dad (after I had called 4 other people and they didn't answer) if he knew how to finish the raw edge on my fabric. He giggled and said "Sorry."

I'm sorry that I've ignored my blog, and my kids this week. I hope to do better! :)

Macie's prayer

Sunday I went Visiting Teaching. I had just barely got the Ensign Saturday in the mail, so I hadn't had a lot of time to prepare a message from a Conference talk, so I just flipped to one. It just so happened to be this one by Elder Bednar.

Here's just a little part of it:
"As our sons were growing up, our family did what you have done and what you now do. We had regular family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening. Now, I am sure what I am about to describe has never occurred in your home, but it did in ours.

Sometimes Sister Bednar and I wondered if our efforts to do these spiritually essential things were worthwhile. Now and then verses of scripture were read amid outbursts such as “He’s touching me!” “Make him stop looking at me!” “Mom, he’s breathing my air!” Sincere prayers occasionally were interrupted with giggling and poking. And with active, rambunctious boys, family home evening lessons did not always produce high levels of edification. At times Sister Bednar and I were exasperated because the righteous habits we worked so hard to foster did not seem to yield immediately the spiritual results we wanted and expected....

...Sister Bednar and I thought helping our sons understand the content of a particular lesson or a specific scripture was the ultimate outcome. But such a result does not occur each time we study or pray or learn together. The consistency of our intent and work was perhaps the greatest lesson—a lesson we did not fully appreciate at the time.

In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field. Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together to create a captivating and beautiful painting.

Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study, and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls. No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable. But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other and produce an impressive masterpiece, so our consistency in doing seemingly small things can lead to significant spiritual results. “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes."

Bedtime is not my favorite time of the day. I'm usually pretty frazzled by that point, but we have our routine. PJ's, teeth brushed, then Jeramy reads a chapter from the Book of Mormon (which is full of "sit down, be quiet, quit touching each other, etc.), then whoever is to pray for the night gets to tell what they are thankful for.

Macie always says "It's my turn to pray!" So we say all right, but she then will throw her head back and cry, "I no want to pray." We don't really understand why she does this, but she does and so we do this routine with her pretty much every night and she never will pray.

Tonight was no different. "I want to pray." She says.
Jeramy says "All right, go ahead." She looked him in the eye and said, "I thankful for Grandpa." (I had just told her we were going on a long ride with Grandpa Gary the next day). Then she started her prayer in the tiniest little whisper

"Heavenly Father....thank you Grandpa...thank you sissy....thank you Maddie....thank you Mommy...thank you you (as she pointed to Jeramy- and yes, I was peeking) thank you Macie...Amen." And then she squealed in delight and we all praised her - even her sisters were so excited for Macie's first prayer.

I know this moment probably isn't all that cool to you, but it made my day! I often find myself thinking, "Why on earth are we doing this?" This talk and this prayer made it all seem a little more important tonight.

Bedknobs and Bruises...

Saturday afternoon Jeramy and Lindsay were goofing around on our bed. Jer loves nothing more than to tease us girls until, well, we do something stupid. He constantly says to me, "Heidi, what happens when you try to _______ (fill in the blank with pretty much anything)?"
I say, "I get hurt." And I know to stop. (Like, what happens when you try to run the weed eater? I get hurt. What happens when you try to run from me with the remote? I trip and get hurt. You get it - I'm a little clumsy).
My kids fall into that same category. Lindsay was poking Jeramy and he would poke her back. I knew this could only end in someone getting hurt. I went to the bathroom and shortly after heard a loud THUD and a lot of hurt crying (and it wasn't Jeramy's hurt cry). I head Jeramy try to calm her down, but she just cried for her Mommy. I came out to assess the damage to find that she had fallen off the bed and hit her ear on the nightstand. There was a little blood, but she looked all right. We talked it through between sobs I got, "Dad.....poked me....and made me....fall off the bed." Dad felt pretty bad.
As the hour passed, her poor little ear got more and more swollen and black and blue. It looked downright awful by bedtime. Me, being the kind, observant mother that I am - ripped her shirt off her head while getting her in her pj's and she screamed and screamed in pain. (I should add that I forgot about the next 4 times I got her dressed, too). And then once in bed, she realized she couldn't lay on that side. Poor kid. Her sweet, caring mom told her to get over it.

As I carefully brushed her hair for church the next morning, I quickly decided on keeping her hair down to cover the nasty black bruises.
After church though, she informed me that she told her teachers about her dad pushing her off the bed and that she showed them her ear. I can only imagine how that went down.
"Lindsay, can you think of something you like to do with your family?"
"My Dad pushes me off beds - wanna see? It really hurts, but my mom said to get over it."
I'm waiting for the call....

Also, yesterday I asked her if I could take a picture of her ear and she gladly said yes, so as I posed her she said, "Mom, you're not going to blog my ear - are you???" I said yes and she quickly yelled "NO! Don't blog my ear!" and ran away. So, if you want to see the bruises, you'll just have to ask her.