Fun Times Usually End in Tears

Why is it that whenever I think, "Oh, this will be so much fun!!!" by the end of the "fun" activity at least on kids is crying? I'll give you a few examples to illustrate my point.

The other day Michael and I were eating ice cream and watching a show after everyone except Baby B had gone to bed. Michael got a phone call, so we paused the show.

Then the noise starts.

B wants some ice cream!

She knows what is in the bowls.

Daddy let her taste his last time.

So, since Michael is trying to hear the person on the phone, I give B small bites of my ice cream to keep her quiet. It works great! Until I run out of ice cream.

I don't know that I have ever seen such a sad face on such a small person.

Her face scrunches up.

She looks at my with betrayal in her eyes.

Then she throws her face on to the blankets next to her and weeps.

Poor girl!

How dare I run out of ice cream!!!

Next example:

Every road trip we ever take (be it 2 hours or 24 hours), our kids do great! At least until the last 45 minutes.

We watch movies.

We sing songs.

We play games.

We eat food.

We even nap.

But come the last 45 minutes of any trip, an alarm goes off in at least one child's head and the start to scream. That usually starts another kids screaming. Which then makes Z start yelling, "Quiet!!! It's too loud! Stop crying!" Which sets of kid #4.

It doesn't really matter if we are going or coming, this seems to happen. But if we are returning from trip, around this time S realizes that we are almost home and cries uncontrollably about missing what ever family or friends we have just left.

Fun times!

Third example:

This past weekend we baby sat a friend of S's from school overnight. It was so fun! She was with us for about 24 hours. It was a Saturday and Sunday, so we had a "movie party" then went to church the next day. S LOVED it.

Then her friend's dad showed up.

Time to leave.

Never mind that S would be seeing her friend he next morning on the bus. She was going to miss this friend. So crying ensued.

I tried to explain that we can't cry every time a friend leaves or we leave his/her house. We all have families that would miss us if we didn't go home.

That really didn't help.

Now, why does this happen? Because my kids are still small yes. And because they are usually tired from staying up late on vacation and in the car and with their friends. And because they don't understand things like ice cream running out. But still.... It happens just about every time.

So you'd think I'd stop coming up with great plans thinking, "This will be so much fun!"

But I don't.

I have hope.

One day the crying will stop and I will finish an adventure thinking, "This was so much fun, right to the end."

For now, I'll just enjoy the middle.

A Day for Remembering

Veteran's day is a day for remembering. I think a lot about my Granddad who fought in World War II. I think about my Grandpa Averett who served in the Navy. I think about the family I married in to. Many of them, including my father and brother-in-law, have served in the military. What a blessing to have a rich heritage. I'm so thankful to them, and so many others who have served our country. What a blessing to live in The United States of America.

For my family, today is not just a day to remember our veterans. It is a day to remember my sweet niece, Ethne. Today would be Ethne's 5th birthday. When she was two years old, Ethne returned to live with a loving Heavenly Father. And today, instead of celebrating with her, we celebrate by remembering her.

My sister-in-law and brother have an amazing blog (I would highly recommend checking it out; this is a link to the challenge she posted: http://prayersforthefamily.blogspot.com/2014/11/ethnes-5th.html). Last week my sister-in-law issued a challenge to do 5 acts of service to remember Ethne on her 5th birthday. And that is just what I did! Now I want to share them with you; not to brag, but to show you how easy it is to love and serve others.

The first thing my family did was feed a set of missionaries from our church. These young men have given two years of their lives to serve the Lord. To help them with that, we try to feed them about once a week. What a blessing it is to have such a spiritual feast in our home every week!!! I think they bless us way more than we bless them.

The next act of service was giving a garbage bag of clothes away. It doesn't get any easier than that! I had so many boys clothes that I took what I needed from the hand-me-downs I got from family and friends. The left overs have sat in my closet for over a month now. So, with a push from my sister, I gave them away. It was easy and the family that took them couldn't be more grateful!

The third act of service was so fun I didn't feel like I was taking time away from anything more important. I volunteered in Z's preschool. I read the same book 9 times to all the kids in his school, and had a blast doing it. The book was called Roar of a Snore. Of course, talking to 3 and 4 year old kids about snoring was about as entertaining as it comes! I got to hear all about dads, brothers, and even a dog that snores.

Act number four was not something I had planned to do. This is an example of how just being a friend is an act of service. I went to pick up something from a friend today and could tell she was feeling a little down. I asked her what I could do for her. She said all she needed was a hug. So that's what a did. Of all the acts I did this week, this was the sweetest, and most simple of all. It also reminded me so much of my niece. She was always willing to hand out a hug, even if you could tell she wasn't in the mood. She never turned me down. So today, that hug was for my friend, but it was also for Ethne.

My final act of service was an opportunity that fell in my lap! I was on a Facebook yard sale page posting pictures of some hats I had made, hoping to make a little money for Christmas, when I came across a post asking for free/cheap toys to donate to the Children's Hospital NICU in Columbus, OH. I have kids, so I have toys! Way more toys than we could ever need. So I took S and we went through the toys and books and sent several to these kids who will be spending their Christmas in the hospital.

Even though Ethne isn't physically with us now, I know that she would be so happy to see the acts that so many people have done to remember her this past week. And I issue the challenge to you. Even if you didn't have the blessing of knowing my niece, I challenge you to look around. Open your eyes to the opportunities to serve. They will fall in your lap and you will be blessed. Then share your experience and inspire someone else.

Reasoning with a Two Year Old or Pointless

W seems to be ending up in my room way too often at night lately. This is a little sampling of what  our conversations are like:

Me: Go get in your bed.

W: Mine pillow!

Me: No, that is Daddy's pillow.

W: Mine!

Me: Do you want to go lay on your pillow.

W: No.....My bed (referring to my bed).

Me: You want to go get in your bed?

Silence. He's thinking. Grunt.

Me: Let's go get in your bed.

W: No! Mine! (Pointing to the pillow or bed; either way it doesn't matter much).

Me: Let's go get yours.

W: This is mine!

Me: No. That is Daddy's pillow.

Grunt.

Repeat until one of us gives up (usually me).

Now, why do I even reason with him? I actually have no idea. I know it doesn't work (he is the third child I've had to deal with at this stage). I don't want him screaming in his room and waking up with brother or sisters. If it is his idea to get in his bed, he will comply quietly, or so I assume. Of that I am not sure either, since it has never happened.

W and I have many similar conversations throughout the day. He has discovered the word "Mine!" and turned in to what I call the "Mine Monster."

Everything  belongs to him. I try to remind him that something is not his and get the response, "No. Mine!"

Every mom has heard this.

Every mom hates this.

Every mom wonders where their child learned that annoying word.

So, for now, arguments with the Mine Monster will probably be useless. Now here's hoping he gets some reasoning skills soon so I can get some sleep!

The Vacuum

The good news is, Z is no longer afraid of the vacuum. The bad news is, he isn't afraid any more because he has had to use it so much.

I was on the phone with my sister this afternoon while the boys were watching a show. Or so I thought. After hanging up with my sister, I walked into the next room to find oyster crackers spread from the dining table, into the living area. They were on the floor, yes, but they were also on the couch. Not just the seat of the couch, but up on the back of the couch.

What do I do? Yell. Of course. Because it is so effective. (Okay, maybe because it just took my so off guard, and, let's face it, I am ashamed to say I am a yeller. Just ask my poor neighbors).

Anyway, I get the yelling under control and ask what he was doing.

He was hungry.

Obviously.

Because who doesn't spread food far and wide when hungry.

I grab a broom and sweep the wood floor. Z is instructed to go get the vacuum for the couch and rug.

All the way to and from the closet with the vacuum, I hear Z say, "It makes me so sad," in a very subdued voice. His fear of the vacuum is coming out.

You see, for some reason all of my children, thus far, have had a fear of the vacuum. I don't know if it is the noise, the look, or the fact that they may not have seen it very often as babies. Nevertheless, they have had the fear. When Z was first switched to a toddler bed so W could have the crib, I put a vacuum in the door way so he wouldn't wander off. It only worked for a couple of nights, but it worked! And I didn't have to worry about my 2 year old wandering the house in the middle of the night. That is how scared he was of coming near it. Eventually, he realized that when it was off it didn't make noise and was easy to climb around. But the fear wasn't completely gone yet.

Back to the story from today.

He hands over the vacuum, then puts both hand on his ears. But he's not getting off that easy. I put both hands on the nozzle and make him vacuum off the couch. Once in a while he tries to do it one handed so he can cover an ear with the other hand. It take a while, but he gets the job done.

On to the rug.

I put his hands on the vacuum and tell him to push (with some help from me since he really isn't quite big enough to maneuver it alone). After a few seconds of pushing the big vacuum, he announces he isn't afraid anymore!

Great!

I am glad he overcame his fear. Now let's see if he can overcome his tendency to make such far reaching messes. If he could do it before he teaches his brother any more mess making habits, that would be great.