Grateful for Nor Dobs

I've been thinking about nor dobs. Don't we all have a few noor dobs in our life? A few things that we do differently that maybe others don't appreciate or consider us weird. I think that these differences are what make people interesting to me. My mom used to say that, "Nobody likes a perfect person but we like people because of their imperfections." I know I like to be around people who lift me up but not if they pretend they are perfect. I'm grateful for Adam's quircky home theatre passion, that Charlie reads our emotions and mimicks them exactly and of course I am grateful for Jack's nor dobs.

At Jack's pre-school they do projects and hang them up on bulletin boards. At Thanksgiving, they made turkeys and they all had written on them what the child was grateful for. All the other turkeys said, "Joe is thankful for his family (or parents)." Here is Jacks.

It says, "Jackson E is thankful for "transformers." I'm so proud of Jack for not going with the crowd and for being his own person. It makes me happy that he is an individual and he's confident enough to be himself. He had adjusted so well to his preschool and is so close to being totally potty trained. Yeah!

So maybe we should all give each other a break and rather than chastise each other for being different, why not sit back, relax and embrace each other for who we are?

One of those "Is church even worth it with a baby?" days

To warn you, this is a venting post. I don't usually use the blog to vent and I promise not to do it too often, but I just came home from church early and need to talk. The day started out fine with us arriving early for my first day conducting the music. I almost got to feel the spirit during Sacrament but I was worried about Adam dealing with the boys by himself, Jack was throwing a tempur tantrum and Charlie was working up to his feeding frenzy cry. I came down and handled the problems hoping that Charlie would make it until the end of the meeting. He didn't so I ended up in the Mother's Lounge like usual and then sprinting up the halls and tossing Charlie to Adam barely making it to my spot as the organist began the hymn.

Then I took Jack and Charlie to sunbeams but Jack didn't want to stay. They tricked him last week but this week, noing that there would be no toys, he just wouldn't stay. So after several minutes of distracting him and consoling him I was finally able to slip out. Then I went in late to Sunday school in time to hear the teacher ask someone, "Why did you come to church today." The person was my friend Todd who after joking that if he didn't his wife would kill him, proceded to make a very intelligent comment about being present so that the Lord could tell you what you need if you are listening... I couldn't hear it all that well because Charlie started talking (and yelling) like he has been doing all day since 4:00 this morning. I looked around the room and saw two types of faces, some were saying "Oooh, I hope she doesn't feel like she has to leave since her baby is making such a fuss, even though it would be easier to hear." and the others saying, "I know we can't ask her to leave with that baby, but don't you think she should just take the hint that she's ruining the class for the rest of us."

Which is when I began thinking, as I'm sure many of us do and I am not alone in this. "What am I doing here?" "Am I getting anything out of this?" "Would I be better off at home watching channel 11 or reading my scriptures?" Yes, I know that it's all about the habbit, and the obedience, etc. etc. But this is a very trying time. Is it just a test to see if we can survive? Are teenagers easier to bring to church? Will I someday be able to have a real calling or be able to listen to a whole talk or lesson or am I doomed to live in either the hall or the mother's lounge? I guess I'm just frustrated but I know "we've all been there."

Working with the young and old

I am blessed to live in a world of extremes. At work I provide therapy to the very old. The other day I worked with the oldest person in Utah who is 108 years old and wanted to have some therapy to get stronger. At home I am attempting to teach my three- year old the ins and outs of appropriate behavior and taking care of my bouncing baby boy. To be very clear, I love both my extremes and I am learning from both of them. I would like to share some of the similarities I’ve found. (For these purposes, I will generalize a lot of my patients experiences although I do recognize that they are all individuals)

They are both closer to heaven than I am. One has just come from there and the others are knocking at it’s door

They both require frequent touch and reassurance that I love them for who they are and not what they can do.

They both have difficulty sitting up but love the feeling of accomplishment when they do.

Sometimes they can’t communicate clearly and rely on my intuition to provide them what they need.

Sometimes they both call me Mom.

Although one is smooth and one is wrinkled, they are both real and don’t attempt to hide behind makeup or hairstyles.

They both get frustrated by the things they can not do.

Neither can see extremely well and need objects placed directly in their view. Correction: although their eyesight

may be poor, I think they can both see better than I can.

Sometimes they get angry and can’t express it in any way other than punching or kicking and require redirection of negative behaviors.

They love being read to and talked to.

Because they both need help dressing and changing their diapers, I get to know them on an intimate level. When a person needs that much help, a level of trust develops between that person and their caregiver.

I am grateful for my opportunities to serve and learn from the people in my life.

Christmas with Robby

One of the funnest parts of Christmas this year was that Robby came home. It was his first time home since last Christmas so he got to meet Charlie for the first time. Jack didn't quite remember him at first, but after crashing a few cars and playing tackle the Robby monster, both he and his girlfriend Alissa were endeared. Every time he saw them after that, Jack would say, "Hey, I remember you guys... you're my friends."

Charlie and Robby's first meeting. I love the look on Charlie's face, he's like,
"Mom, is this guy for real?"

After a few tickles, Charlie warmed right up.

Opening presents at our first Christmas at our house.

I really do enjoy spending time with my brother, although he has changed so much and continues to change every time I see him. I never quite know what he;s going to be dressing like or acting like. (I have to admit though that I like this years Robby better than last years- this years Robby showers and does not skin roadkill just to tan it's hide and make moccasins. I really liked Alissa, this years girlfriend. She cooks and dresses cute, and yes showers too. (Although apparently in Portland they all live by the motto, "If it's brown flush it down, if it's yellow, let it mellow"- something about water conservation.)

I loved visiting with him and he and Alissa came to church with us to help us watch the boys while we sang in the choir which I thought was very cool. As much as I love him and want him to be happy, some of his decisions make me so sad that it's kind of hard to be around him. I want the best for him, and I sometimes I miss the brother I grew up with- fighting and all.

Jack REALLY loved swimming with Robby and Alissa and keeps asking if we can go on an airplane to their house since it's far far away. It was fun to race Robby in the pool- for old times sake. I won't say who the winner was since it is just really hard to race without goggles while dodging innocent bystanders.