The Rivalry

This post has nothing to do with Utah/BYU football. Or Max Hall. This post is about good, old-fashioned brotherly love, or a lack thereof. Basically it's a plea for advice from anyone, anywhere who has any idea of how to deal with a jealous older sibling.

After Davie was born people always asked me if Ben was having trouble adjusting to having a sibling. I always told them not really because Ben basically ignored Davie most of the time and just did his own thing. Recently though, Ben has started paying more attention to Davie, and the attention is generally not welcome.

Poor Davie spends a good chunk of his day being pushed over, stepped on, hit, shoved down stairs, slammed in doors, and on and on. I spend most of my day trying to referee--and it's not a fair fight. I can't leave the room without Davie ending up in tears. I've put Ben in time out countless times. He's said he's sorry and given a bagillion hugs. I tried talking to him about being kind to little brother. I may have even doled out a spanking or two (I swore I never would, but you know). Nothing seems to work. Ben just keeps beating on his little bro. I know little boys are inclined to get rough, but this is too much. Now what?

Ben-isms

I wanted to record some of the funny things my funny kid has been saying recently. I know everyone thinks their toddler is the funniest and most adorable, but honestly, Ben cracks me up.

* We've been concerned that Ben might be color blind since he's not done very well in distinguishing red from green. Last week our fears were abated after Laura discovered that he can identify colors perfectly well; he simply prefers to think of them as Sesame Street characters.

Last week as Ben was playing with fun noodles (which are basically over-sized, furry pipe cleaners) at Laura's house, Laura started to quiz him on the colors of the noodles. When she got to the red noodle, Ben paused and said, "Um, is Elmo." Blue was Grover. Yellow was Big Bird. Green? Oscar the Grouch. Color blindness is apparently not an issue. We may be watching too much TV though.

* Ben crawls in bed with me when he wakes up in the morning so he can snuggle. Yesterday I commented that he was too big to be using a binky. He responded, "No. I NOT big! I NOT!" x 50. Then he said, "Mommy, I go look in da mirror to see if I really big." He jumped down and walked over to the full length mirror in our room and examined himself. Apparently he was convinced by what he saw since he then said, "Oh, I ARE big. Here you go mommy," and handed me his binky. (For the record, he wanted the binky back about 5 minutes later.)

* Today at IKEA Ben picked up one of the strange stuffed animals in the kids section. I think it was supposed to be a ferret. After messing around with it for a couple of minutes, he walked over to the railing and threw it down to the shopping section below as he yelled, "GO SAVE THE DAY!" (I'm thinking his comment was inspired by wonder pets)

The Night(mare) before Halloween

I love my kids. Seriously, I do. However, after last night they are lucky to be alive. Davie has been under the weather and has been fussy. And Ben has officially embraced the terrible twos. (Please tell me it gets better when they turn three. Please.) Last night was one of those nights where you lock your kids in their rooms, close your door, put your pillow over your head, and try to find a happy place. I'm not speaking figuratively; that's what happened.

Davie was restless and fussy going down. Then, around midnight, he decided he'd had enough of staying in bed and he needed his parents' undivided attention. After making sure he was not dying, we decided to let him "cry it out." Unfortunately, Davie has incredible stamina and crying it out was a rather prolonged ordeal. Then, around 2:00 a.m., Ben woke up.

Ben waking up in the middle of the night is the kiss of death. He makes sure everyone in the house gets up with him. We tried desperately to keep him quiet so he wouldn't wake up Davie, who had only recently succumbed to sleep. We got him milk, let him get in bed with us, went in his room with him, fetched binkies and toys, all to no avail. Around 4:00 a.m. I had what the mental health community would probably call a psychotic break. Faced with a hysterical, sleep deprived wife, Cam gave Ben a dose of Benadryl, which was likely in excess of that recommended for his height and weight, and locked him in his room, where he kicked and screamed and woke up his brother and, finally, slept.

How's that for a scary story? And now, here are the pictures of the kids in Halloween costumes.

Davie, as the beneficiary of multiple hand-me-down costumes, made various Halloween appearances dressed as a skeleton (not pictured), a caterpillar

and a chick.

Yes, I know these two look harmless, but in the middle of the night they are terrifying.

Bathtime

I've been reluctant to put Davie and Ben in the bath together since Ben spends most of his day tormenting Davie and I was afraid that adding water to the equation could have bad results. Luckily, things worked out.




After what they put me through today, I was seriously considering selling these two on the street. But on second thought, I'll keep them.

What we've been up to . . .

It's been a while since I've posted. Partly because I haven't wanted to expend the effort it takes to blog. Partly because we, uh, misplaced our camera for a while. But, fret not, I'm back, and I'll do my best to sum up the last month or so.

Ben is:

* Super excited for Halloween and obsessed with pumpkins. We went to the pumpkin patch last week and ever since Ben has often invited me to reflect with him:

"Mommy, 'member the pumpkins?"

"Yes, Ben."

"'Member the pumpkin patch?"

"Yes, Ben."

"Yeaaahhh. . . ."

(Side note: Why do we always pick the coldest night in October to go to the pumpkin patch?)

* Super excited to be a pirate for Halloween. At this point, pirates are Halloween. Every time he sees a Halloween display at a store he says, "Look mommy. Pirates!" I don't think he really knows what I pirate is. And, I'm sure he doesn't know what a pirate map is since he has been calling the Michael's ad he salvaged from the Sunday paper his pirate map.

Davie is:

* Busy being adorable and smiley.


* Chomping with his two new teeth, which arrived promptly at seven months.

* Well on his way to crawling. He started army crawling right at seven months. What's the deal with that?



Cam is:

* Loving his boys.


I am:

* A baking fool. Maybe it's staying home with the kids. Maybe it's the fall weather. But I've spent more time in the kitchen in the last month than I probably have in my entire life up to this point. Apple pie anyone?


It was made with apples grown in Summit and it was delicious.

Career move

The average person changes careers three to five time during his or her life. I checked it on wiki-answers, so I know this information is reliable. I wanted to know because shortly after graduating from law school, passing the bar, and starting a clerkship, I find myself faced with a serious career change. It makes sense to wonder why I would be considering a career change at this point. Well, the short answer is, somewhere along the way I seem to have acquired two children.

Without going into too much detail, I've decided that my kids need a full-time mommy right now more than I need a legal career. Part of me can't believe I just typed that sentence. I mean, I induced my delivery with Ben during spring break so I could be back for class the next week. I took my finals when he was weeks old. I was still so dazed from his delivery and those sleepless newborn nights that I stumbled through finals the semester he was born. As a 3L I did law review edits and outlined in the middle of the night because there weren't enough hours in the day for me to be a mommy and a law student. I found out that I was pregnant with Davie weeks before taking the bar. I puked non-stop while I was trying to study for it with an IV in my arm. I went back to work ten days after he was born. I just worked through it, trying to to be the best at everything because I wanted to have it all. Generally, I have just felt all-round inadequate.

Being a woman is complicated. Having kids just makes things more complicated. And having it all is a joke. I mean, if you're a woman and you believe you really have it all, then that's great, I guess. Maybe I just haven't found the secret. Because I think that womanhood is riddled with sacrifice. I'm not saying this is necessarily a bad thing. But I'm not so naive as to believe that I'm going be intellectually fulfilled by changing diapers and wiping up puke full time. Nor am I convinced that I could devote myself to work without feeling guilty because I wasn't there to kiss skinned knees and cheer on first steps.

This whole post seems like kind of a downer, and that's not my intention. Really I guess I'm just using this blog as a forum for some introspection. So just wish me luck as I embark on my latest endeavor: making mac & cheese, enforcing nap time, and subjecting myself to daily doses of Handy Manny. A daunting job description indeed. I'm hoping I'm up to the challenge.

The B.L.

Having spent the fourth in Summit, we made our way further north to Bear Lake the next weekend.

Sidewinder falls made an appearance.


Even though the water was freezing, Ben and Minie made the most of it.

Ben also discovered his artistic side.


And let's not forget the fireworks. Ben was spectator this time and thoroughly enjoyed the show.


We went hands-free on the sparklers.


Lovin' some king of bling.


The captive audience.



There was blanket time

and smores.

We loved us some B.L.

The Fourth of Ju-ly

Now that the 24th has passed, I'm finally getting around to blogging about the fourth of July. Pathetic? Yes. I blame Cameron, who considers himself keeper of our camera, and who uploads all our pictures to his computer. I've ended up delaying my blogging efforts until I felt like I had access to the pictures because, let's face it, no one wants to see a blog post without pictures.

Moving on . . . .

I hold with those who say that some holidays are best experienced in a small town, Independence day being one of them.

Our day started in Summit with the annual town parade. Pretty much any interested person is free to participate and my Dad was only too pleased to haul the grandkids along in a festive garden wagon. The parade got going earlier than we'd expected so we were momentarily concerned that the kids may have missed the grand event. Fortunately, there were multiple passes up and down the main drag, so they were able to jump in and enjoy their moment in the spotlight.


Unfortunately, Ben was determined to be a stinker, and he refused to join the crowd. Nice, Ben.

Did I mention how much I love the Summit parade?

Given that even with an encore procession, the Summit parade lasted all of about 10 minutes, we decided to head over to Parowan for a larger-scale event. The Parowan parade is just my style--and just Ben's style too, as it involved several tractors,


every available emergency response vehicle in the area (sirens blaring),


horses,


the local drill team,


and lots of candy.


Let's not forget little Davie.


Well, actually, we kind of did forget about little Davie. So grandpa took it upon himself to care for his namesake.


He was rewarded by being pooped on. Sorry, grandpa.

We spent the rest of the day lounging and eating (no pictures, but trust me, it was lovely). The day culminated with a lavish firework display at 8:00 p.m. We may have been a little too anxious to get the kids to bed.

My parents' yard isn't landscaped yet (this year though, right Mom?), and since it's pretty much the definition of a fire hazard, we took the show into the road.


Things started off good. Lizzy and Jane enjoyed their sparklers.


Then Ben managed to burn himself pretty good. There were tears followed by much discussion of the boo-boo.


We'll probably wait a couple of years before we try the hold-your-own-sparkler thing again. But, in the end, the day was a success.

Yeah for the fourth!

Lord of the Flies

He was supposed to be painting Rocks, but as is the case most of the time, Ben got a little carried away and "became the canvas" as his uncle Dustin said. Sorry this was shot sideways.

Very Cherry

So we're hanging out in Summit for the fourth of July. My parents and my Great-uncle have cherry trees that border their properties and they've gotten quite the cherry crop this year. We devoted some time to harvesting cherries this morning. A good time was had by all.

Cam proved to be especially adept at cherry pickin'. And Ben has yet to meet a ladder he didn't like.

Helpful little boy.

Look at all those delicious cherries. Yum.

We may have eaten a few along the way. Although, some of us ate more than others. (Note: white shirt + two-year-old + cherry picking/eating = some serious laundry)

Good thing he's so cute.

Four Months

So little Davie Doo turned four months old recently. I can't believe my little baby is already four months old. It's crazy. Fortunately, he's only the size of a two month old, which really works out well for me since I want to deny that he's growing up.

When we went in for Davie's four month well-check, we discovered that he is a whopping 12.5 lbs and 23 inches long--making him, uh, really small. But it's cool. He somehow still seems like a total chunk. He's a much more enthusiastic eater than Ben ever was. And (so far) his hair is staying pretty dark. Could it be that I have given birth to a dark-haired child?

He's also learned a new trick--the boy rolls over. Have I mentioned that I love this little rolly, polly little guy?



And I love his brother too. (We like to roll a little white trash in the summer--shirts are optional.)

Catch up

I am apparently a fair weather blogger, and when it rains it pours. Now I've finally caught up.

Nursery or Bust!

Anyone who has a small child knows that as soon as said child becomes mobile you begin to count the months, weeks, and days until you get to take your child to nursery so you can actually attend your church meetings rather than pacing the halls for three hours.

As luck would have it, about the time Ben was finally old enough to go to nursery, I received the news that I had been called as a nursery leader. Around that same time, I also received the news that we were expecting another bundle of joy, so I spent the nine months of my pregnancy as a nursery leader. It was super fun. Fortunately, having a baby is a surefire way to get released from your calling as a nursery leader. Unfortunately, I have a two-year-old who has decided that he is not interested in going to nursery.

Last week we went to drop Ben off at nursery and he cried and cried. We decided to just leave him and let him get over it. I figured I'd spent enough time comforting other people's children that I had earned the privilege. Several minutes later, a well-meaning nursery leader delivered my red-eyed, screaming child to me in gospel doctrine and whispered, "I'm sorry. I don't think this is going to work today." What? My kid got kicked out of nursery?

When I walked out into the hall with him, Ben perked right up and told me, "Mommy I go play." Um, no Ben you did not go play. Given the option of returning to nursery or going home to nap, Ben chose the nap. That one backfired on me.

This week we tried again and the screaming began again. We left the him there and he screamed. We came back and he screamed. Ultimately, I stayed with him for the rest of class. Meanwhile, Cam walked the halls with a fussy baby. Come on! I was so looking forward to getting to associate with other adults.

So what's the deal? How do I cope with a nursery hater?

Thirty-something

Or just plain thirty.

I'm cool with it.

Spring fling

In typical Utah fashion, the weather this spring has been sketchy. We'll enjoy a few days of warm, sunny weather followed by several days of stormy, cold weather. Since this weekend we are on the downside of this trend, I choose to reflect on last weekend. Last Sunday was sunny and wonderful and Laura, Brent and their kids came over for dinner, followed by a Sunday evening stroll.

We walked over to the temple grounds and let the kids run around.


We also tried getting some family pictures with no success.


But look at the tulips. They're on their way out now, but they were beautiful while they lasted.


Then we let the kids play for a while.


I'm looking forward to future Sunday strolls.