I just finished a research elective. This means that after 5 weeks of surgery and several weeks of medicine my kids are finally starting to believe that I really do live here and remember that they once knew me as their mother. It has been a great opportunity for me to get to know them again as well.
For example, left with only his father to fend for him, Ashton is now able to prepare his own breakfast in the morning, including climbing 6 feet to the top shelf of our cupboard to pick out his favorite cereal. Isaac, on the other hand, has turned to song writing. His latest debut, "Pick the Wild Morning Glory" (the volume of which is about to crack my computer screen) will soon be released for purchase.
One of Isaac's favorite puzzles is a puzzle of the 50 states. I walked in on him starting the puzzle this morning and, looking right at me, he yelled out, "Dad, can you please help me." I smiled and kindly offered to help him. He gave me a look, shrugged his shoulders and said, "OK, but it might be pretty hard for you."
As we put the pieces in, I began reading off the name of each of the states. When we got to RI, Vermont and Conneticut, he looked at me in amazement. "Wow, Mom . . . you're smarter than I thought you were!"
Needless to say, I am relieved to find my cognitive abilities have the approval of a 4-year-old.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Mischief of one kind or another . . .
(Brownie points to anyone who knows where the title came from.)
When I was in high school, a friend of mine had a bumper sticker that said “When Irish eyes are smilin’, ya’ know they're up to somethin’.” I always found it amusing, but Ashton has given it a whole new meaning. Maybe it is his mischievous smile, or maybe it is the fact that he inherited Grandpa Riordan’s Irish eyes, but Ashton’s eyes always seem to be smiling, and he is usually up to something.
Take last week for example. It all started out with changing him into his PJ’s. What is the natural 2-year-old reaction? Hit Mommy, of course. Then it was time for time out. I plopped Ashton in the sitting room and decided to keep the lights low to help him “settle down.” It wasn’t 30 seconds later that I noticed the light on and Ashton happily sitting on the couch. When asked about the lights, he stated proudly, “I, I turn them ooonnnn.” I looked at him sternly, and reminded him that he was supposed to stay in time out. I turned the lights back off and had not turned my back for a moment before the light was back on and Ashton was scurrying back to the couch.
Then came time for bed. I had put Ashton down for just a minute when I noticed the door was shut. “Strange,” I thought, and opened the door to see Ashton running back to his bed. A minute later I noticed that Ashton was nibbling on something. Fortunately for me, he has not perfected the fine art of lying (see footnote 1), and he cheerfully admitted that he had used his ESP (see footnote 2) to find the crumbled cookie in my bag. This was just after brushing his teeth, which is somewhat akin to trying to brush the teeth of a crocodile.
So after re-tackling his teeth, I finally put him down amidst a barrage of protests. That is, until he stopped to think for a second and then purposefully hit me. Before I could say, “Ashton, you don’t hit!” he sprang up, ran across the room, sat down in a chair and cheerfully stated, “I get time out now!” I suppose he was very proud of his logic, and I must admit it was a clever way to get out of going to bed. Perhaps I need to rethink my discipline strategy at bedtime.
Footnote 1: When I say Ashton has not perfected lying, I do not mean to imply that he is not practicing. His latest trick is to hit his brother and then start crying himself, claiming, “Isaac, he he hit me.”
Footnote 2: I mentioned Ashton’s ESP for sweets . . . I really think he may have special goody-finding radar. It doesn’t matter where we hide candy; he seems to know where it is. While I was still in Rochester, my Mom took the boys to church. Between meetings, she turned around to find Ashton missing. Panicked, she sifted through the halls looking for the boy. She finally found him in the kitchen where he had spotted some candy stored on the top shelf, pulled a chair in from a neighboring room and was climbing to reach the goods.
Take last week for example. It all started out with changing him into his PJ’s. What is the natural 2-year-old reaction? Hit Mommy, of course. Then it was time for time out. I plopped Ashton in the sitting room and decided to keep the lights low to help him “settle down.” It wasn’t 30 seconds later that I noticed the light on and Ashton happily sitting on the couch. When asked about the lights, he stated proudly, “I, I turn them ooonnnn.” I looked at him sternly, and reminded him that he was supposed to stay in time out. I turned the lights back off and had not turned my back for a moment before the light was back on and Ashton was scurrying back to the couch.
Then came time for bed. I had put Ashton down for just a minute when I noticed the door was shut. “Strange,” I thought, and opened the door to see Ashton running back to his bed. A minute later I noticed that Ashton was nibbling on something. Fortunately for me, he has not perfected the fine art of lying (see footnote 1), and he cheerfully admitted that he had used his ESP (see footnote 2) to find the crumbled cookie in my bag. This was just after brushing his teeth, which is somewhat akin to trying to brush the teeth of a crocodile.
So after re-tackling his teeth, I finally put him down amidst a barrage of protests. That is, until he stopped to think for a second and then purposefully hit me. Before I could say, “Ashton, you don’t hit!” he sprang up, ran across the room, sat down in a chair and cheerfully stated, “I get time out now!” I suppose he was very proud of his logic, and I must admit it was a clever way to get out of going to bed. Perhaps I need to rethink my discipline strategy at bedtime.
Footnote 1: When I say Ashton has not perfected lying, I do not mean to imply that he is not practicing. His latest trick is to hit his brother and then start crying himself, claiming, “Isaac, he he hit me.”
Footnote 2: I mentioned Ashton’s ESP for sweets . . . I really think he may have special goody-finding radar. It doesn’t matter where we hide candy; he seems to know where it is. While I was still in Rochester, my Mom took the boys to church. Between meetings, she turned around to find Ashton missing. Panicked, she sifted through the halls looking for the boy. She finally found him in the kitchen where he had spotted some candy stored on the top shelf, pulled a chair in from a neighboring room and was climbing to reach the goods.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Snow plow . . .
Just now I was driving home from a night of good company and comfort food (thanks Zion), and saw an entourage of flashing lights coming from the hospital parking lot. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't a group of emergency vehicles, but rather about a dozen snow plows and trucks clearing out the parking lot.
A large gravel truck topped full of snow pulled out in front of me, and I followed it for about a block. It pulled into a field where several more tractors were piling the snow into a miniature Mt. Fugi. (sledding anyone?)
Maybe it was the fact that I have had too much time to think without my kids to distract me, or maybe it was the creepy organ music I was listening to (what is it about organ music that makes it inherently creepy?), but the whole scenario caught me off gaurd. I mean, when I go to park in the morning, I take it for granted that the lot will be plowed. Quite frankly, I'd get a little grumpy if it were not. But I was sure feeling grateful that I wasn't the one spending her Sunday night working in the dark and cold (thanks again Zion).
So I guess this is my slightly romanticized thank you to all those who keep our streets and communities up and running.
A large gravel truck topped full of snow pulled out in front of me, and I followed it for about a block. It pulled into a field where several more tractors were piling the snow into a miniature Mt. Fugi. (sledding anyone?)
Maybe it was the fact that I have had too much time to think without my kids to distract me, or maybe it was the creepy organ music I was listening to (what is it about organ music that makes it inherently creepy?), but the whole scenario caught me off gaurd. I mean, when I go to park in the morning, I take it for granted that the lot will be plowed. Quite frankly, I'd get a little grumpy if it were not. But I was sure feeling grateful that I wasn't the one spending her Sunday night working in the dark and cold (thanks again Zion).
So I guess this is my slightly romanticized thank you to all those who keep our streets and communities up and running.
Ashton pics, and my incredibly talented twin sister.
For those of you who don't know, I have a fraternal twin sister who lives just outside of Salt Lake. When I say "fraternal," I mean that in almost every way. Right now I am thinking about how she is crafty, serendipitous and an excellent entrepreneur. In the past year, she has worked as a "stamping it up" sales associate, created a blog for a local paper company, and opened a photo studio out of her back room. All this while raising twin toddlers of her own. (Yes, she deserves the "make us all feel crumby about how little we accomplish" award.)
Last week, my boys went to play at "Aunt Howy's House," and in a 5 minute oasis where only Ashton was awake, she took a couple beautiful portraits. Now, I could have made life easy and simply posted the portraits themselves, but then I realized that this was my opportunity to blatantly advertise for her. So instead, I included the link to her photography blog. Enjoy!
http://hollyhydephotography.blogspot.com/
Last week, my boys went to play at "Aunt Howy's House," and in a 5 minute oasis where only Ashton was awake, she took a couple beautiful portraits. Now, I could have made life easy and simply posted the portraits themselves, but then I realized that this was my opportunity to blatantly advertise for her. So instead, I included the link to her photography blog. Enjoy!
http://hollyhydephotography.blogspot.com/
Saturday, December 20, 2008
SNOW!!! and other random pics
Last March Aukai and I bought some cross country skis, mostly as a way of preserving my sanity in the long winter months. In retrospect, I think he saw it as an investment in his safety.
Regardless of the intent, the result is fabulous! Instead of wanting to crawl into my closet when a storm comes, I can't wait for the snow; I felt like a school girl when I looked outside to see the 1 1/2 feet that dumped down last night. There is nothing like the serene beauty of the glistening trails that Zion and I hit this morning.
The view from our back door.
The boys borrowed matching Buzz Lightyear costumes for a friend's birthday party. They played the role very seriously.
Isaac has a good dose of my introspective distractibility. Only those who truly know me will have any idea what that means, but it may explain why the boy routine takes an hour and a half to finish his breakfast cereal.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Ashtonisms
1. Ashton is such a ham. Recently he has become enamored with his brother's age-appropriate obsession with super-heroes and guns. (Part of that deaing with vulnerability stage.) Ashton doesn't really understand what words like "shoot" and "kill" really mean, but he does understand that they make him feel cool and tough. In keeping with this, he has adopted a toy hockey stick as his "killer gun." Last night he insisted on sleeping with it, with the resultant conversation:
Ashton, eyebrows furrowed in the toughest voice he can muster: "Mom, I shoot de de reindeer." (We had just been singing "Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer".)
Me: "The reindeer? But how will Santa get around?"
Ashton: "Santa da de hit Isaac." (Ashton always has 2-4 fragmented "words" thrown into his sentences to make them seem longer.)
Me: "Oh, Ashton, no he didn't. Santa wants to bring you a toy for Christmas, and he needs his reindeer to get around."
Ashton, with a big smile and sheepish chuckle: "Oh.!?!"
*Translation: You should have said so sooner. Such a noble cause certainly deserves exemption from my violent tendencies, even if Santa did hit my brother.*
2. I have been toying with the idea of potty training Ashton. As part of this, I had him sit on the potty last night. He sat for a minute, began shaking himself, looked up at me in frustration, pointied to his penis and exclaimed, "It not working!?!"
This morning I thought we'd give it another try when we first woke up. He was avid that he didn't want to go potty reminding me in a less-than-polite way that "It not work!"
However, much to his delight he was able to go potty within the first minute of sitting on the potty. He looked at me, delighted, and exclaimed, "IT WORKS!" I can only imagine the relief he must feel, after watching his brother and daddy go potty, that his penis too "works."
Ashton, eyebrows furrowed in the toughest voice he can muster: "Mom, I shoot de de reindeer." (We had just been singing "Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer".)
Me: "The reindeer? But how will Santa get around?"
Ashton: "Santa da de hit Isaac." (Ashton always has 2-4 fragmented "words" thrown into his sentences to make them seem longer.)
Me: "Oh, Ashton, no he didn't. Santa wants to bring you a toy for Christmas, and he needs his reindeer to get around."
Ashton, with a big smile and sheepish chuckle: "Oh.!?!"
*Translation: You should have said so sooner. Such a noble cause certainly deserves exemption from my violent tendencies, even if Santa did hit my brother.*
2. I have been toying with the idea of potty training Ashton. As part of this, I had him sit on the potty last night. He sat for a minute, began shaking himself, looked up at me in frustration, pointied to his penis and exclaimed, "It not working!?!"
This morning I thought we'd give it another try when we first woke up. He was avid that he didn't want to go potty reminding me in a less-than-polite way that "It not work!"
However, much to his delight he was able to go potty within the first minute of sitting on the potty. He looked at me, delighted, and exclaimed, "IT WORKS!" I can only imagine the relief he must feel, after watching his brother and daddy go potty, that his penis too "works."
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Just a little warning . . .
I just got home from dropping Aukai and the kids off at the airport. Aukai's mom recently REbroke her ankle, so he is flying out to Oregon to help her while our kids enjoy 10 days of uninterrupted spoiling at my parents' house. I haven't spent more than a couple of nights away from my kids since Isaac was born, and it didn't help me hold back the tears when Isaac looked up at me and said "Mommy, I wish it was only for 2 days."
As I stepped back into my child-worn home and admired the latest magic-marker mural, I was left with a sense of emptiness, wondering what I was going to do without my family . . . and then a delightful cliche jumped into my head . . . "Anything I want to!"
So this is just a little warning that if you see crazy parties, outrageous outfits and a mild obsession for luxuries like trimmed cuticles, shaved legs and adequate sleep, don't fear. The mild-mannered mother you all know and love is still inside and will return, with her children, after the break. But until then . . . party on!
As I stepped back into my child-worn home and admired the latest magic-marker mural, I was left with a sense of emptiness, wondering what I was going to do without my family . . . and then a delightful cliche jumped into my head . . . "Anything I want to!"
So this is just a little warning that if you see crazy parties, outrageous outfits and a mild obsession for luxuries like trimmed cuticles, shaved legs and adequate sleep, don't fear. The mild-mannered mother you all know and love is still inside and will return, with her children, after the break. But until then . . . party on!
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