tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27225151604636359552024-03-06T00:39:39.600-08:00Chris and Sarahs BlogUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger124125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-61638191609086059772019-11-04T14:10:00.000-08:002020-02-01T21:41:20.328-08:00There is no book for thisI continued to read, if I didn't actually post my parenting homework. Some books I dropped completely. Most loudly, Love and Logic. Great name, and I see why people like it. Lots of the tips in there are effective, but I think more short term. It is more of a how to manipulate your kids, 101, but most kids are smart enough that the sincere acting they encourage you to do is transparent to them. Also, ideas like walking away or around the corner till your kid realizes they were dawdling and that you are gone is just plain stupid. That is a quick way to turn going in to the grocery store into a malicious game of hide and seek. And they will hide. <br />
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So, while I applaud their emphasis on living natural consequences and enabling parents to look ahead for problems, I wouldn't recommend the book. </div>
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And please, to anyone writing a parenting book, and I have read so, so many at this point, never do those dumb examples of 'the good parent who follows my system is going to grow to make their mommy proud. And the bad parent who doesn't use our method needs to start saving bailout money.' They are so insulting. There are a million ways to parent successfully and still totally miss the mark. Because kids are beautiful people. And they still get to make their choices. And parents are beautiful people. And we all screw up in more ways than any one parenting book can fix. Deal with it, people. </div>
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I would like to imagine that our kids feel our intent. And I would like to imagine that our intents as parents is to lovingly help them grow into people who can navigate the world competently, responsibly and respectfully. And I do believe that we, as parents, often convince ourselves that we are doing that. And then I read an actually good parenting book.</div>
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I have noticed that the parenting books worth the paper they are printed on start with the parent. Yup, sorry folks. Because while kids come with their personalities and quarks, really, the problem is us. It is me, it is you. We are still starving and struggling to get our own childhood traumas resolved with the same failing tools that didn't work then and still don't work now. </div>
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And we are trying to do it while navigating the world responsibly and respectfully. Oh and completely sleep deprived because little Cindy has been having nightmares for the last two weeks while her brother also has an incredible cold that keeps him from breathing so he wakes up every two hours crying and coughing. And the other brother wakes up at 5 am, swimming in his own pee even though you told him not to drink water after 7 pm and go to the bathroom twice before going to bed. And the other other brother is angry at the oldest sister because he needs to take a bath but she is still in there because she hasn't been able to go No 2. And you know she tends to be constipated, that is why you get the super extra fiber breakfast cereal and beg her to be sure to try to poo at least once a day... just try. But you can lead a horse to water ... And your husband has been out of town for the weekend and is going to have to be gone Monday. Till after bedtime. Because of work. And you are coming down with that cold that sick kid has but you still have to take your kid to swim lessons, and get the laundry through because all of the boys are out of clothes and you can't ask them to just go one more day on old laundry because it is all soaked in pee from the daily pee jamies that are thrown in there. But you can't get the loads through any quicker because an allergist said your kid has a dust mite - a dust mite?- allergy and you have to wash the sheets weekly and you are just behind. And the dog is eating the Halloween candy. Because of course it is Halloween and of course your kids need to have a wonderful childhood that includes running around the neighborhood in 30 degree weather in the dark to gather enough candy to make a small army sick. And it is. My small army is sick with candy. But I am too tired and overwhelmed to do anything else about it because I am still picking the needles out of my bedroom carpet. Because after whip stitching an Umbrion costume together for one of the kids, another kid knocked over the pin holder and the other kids were making 'I love mom' notes with construction paper and left everything out so of course the dog also got to it and tore it to shreds which then the smallest kids played in and the older kids walked through. And I am yelling to the kids with my direct, 'non-passive-aggressive phrases I learned from a great parenting book, in a tone that is appropriately assertive and not crazy at all' to stop chasing the dog around, put him in his crate, get the garbage out, no not while the dog is still... and the dog gets to the garbage first and drags the garbage everywhere and outside because somehow the back door was open. Of course it was open. and now there is garbage strewn around the back yard. And then all of those beautiful kids look at you with their beautiful eyes. You know that some day there will be judgement instead of worry and concern because mom is clearly going to loose it. </div>
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And you don't loose it, because Becky Baily says accept the moment. 'It is what it is' you hear her repeating in your mind.</div>
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It is what it is. No judgments. So instead you hide in the bathroom for a moment of peace until you can kid coach productively (Gottman, Raising an Emotionally intelligent child). The kids follow you. And you say you have to go to the bathroom so they respectfully close the door and then start talking to you. All of them. At the same time. Hoping for:<br />
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<b>Sympathy</b> 'my love card for you was eaten! I worked so hard.' (times of distress in your kids are opportunities for intimacy - Bailey, effective mirroring) "you sound so disappointed and angry" (Briggs, Gottman, Bailey, Moorman)</div>
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Tattle-tailing 'He started it when he fed the dog paper!' (help them identify feelings, 'how did it make you feel?' Bailey), </div>
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<b>Help </b> 'the glue spilled and now it is gone!' (avoid leaned helplessness "sounds like you have a problem, I know you can handle it" Moorman) </div>
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<b>Food</b> When are we going to eat? (you forgot the schedule, baby-wise would be disappointed)</div>
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MooooommmmmYYYYY(as the five-year-old jiggles the door handle) when are you coming out? </div>
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And since you can't find the peace in your space, you look inside for that one place in your body that might have peace or safety (McLaren). You start taking inventory of 'inside' when your pocket starts to buzz. You jump up, not having realized your phone was precariously close to the open toilet bowl. It is your husband. He is going to be out of town next week. Very important. You hope the next best emotional alternative isn't going with them as well (trust. Gottman). Oh, and how do you feel about his flying away for a day during our family Thanksgiving vacation with your family? He will only miss a day. They will pay for the flights out and back.</div>
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Cornered, alone and surrounded in your half bathroom with the crumbling grout crunching between your toes, the loose tiles shifting, the faux brick wall paper peeling, and dimming florescent light-bulb's orange light illuminating the paint chipping off the toilet paper roll holder and the empty toilet paper roll. The small garbage can you bought with money given to you at your wedding 12 years ago? 13? an eternity? The garbage can needs wiping down. But to do that you would have to empty it as it is full to overflowing with tissue, a wrapper from thermals you picked up at the grocery store because it was snowing and as you were freezing you realized your only warm clothing was worn through and no longer-</div>
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It was silent outside.</div>
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The kids are gone. Sometime during the phone call and... your despondent musings, they are gone. </div>
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You look at the phone in your hand. you could take a minute. You could use the duo-lingo app you downloaded to help you retain your Portuguese, and then never used. Nah, your Portuguese is gone. The scripture app, the youtube app, audible, Marco-polo, google, you cold browse the world. It is quiet. No one would ever know. Or, you could actually go to the bathroom. No one would ever know.</div>
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You could have gone to Oxford. Looking at the exhausted person trapped in her own crumbling, flaking, peeling bathroom, no one would ever know. </div>
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You are alone. </div>
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You are alone, so you go out and start sweeping up the construction paper. Your beautiful kids are down stairs building castles for each other with pillows and long balloons they bought themselves. They wanted them to make swords and balloon dogs for other children every Friday at the public library. Which they did do, without your prompting. </div>
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There is no book for this. </div>
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And then one of your kids comes up and hands you all the candies with nuts in them. They remembered that you like those ones. You put the broom down and hug them and begin to tell them how it makes you feel (Bailey, Briggs). They give you kisses and as they run off you start to cry. Maybe with relief, maybe with joy and love, maybe with exhaustion, despair, isolation, maybe with a little of all of it. You sit and let the moment be (Levinne). And then you keep sweeping. </div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-65585016733987085722019-04-16T21:17:00.002-07:002019-05-29T20:03:41.130-07:00Strengthen the Bond (kid parent homework #3)Strengthen the Bond:<br />
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<li>Over the course of a week pay close attention to what they really love. Make a list. </li>
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<li>At lest three times a week, walk over to them and notice these interests. </li>
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<b>"I noticed..."</b></div>
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<li>Do not end these statements with a judgment statement like "That's great!" or "I love that!" I think the reason being that kids love getting positive attention and often will stop exploring if they have found a 'pre-approved' 'great' thing that they believe will get them particular attention and restrict creativity. The hope is that you are validating who they are as themselves or acting as a 'mirror' to help them recognize their own feelings. It's not how you feel. </li>
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Well, honestly, I didn't make a list. But I did carefully watch my kids and if they were playing joyfully with play-dough for a while, I would say 'I noticed you really enjoyed that Play dough.' Across the board, kids seem to smile and say, 'uh huh.' And that is about all you are gonna get, but they trend happier which makes me think that they do feel recognized. I believe that using this on all emotions, without a judgment statement is invaluable. I had an experience where my 7-year-old daughter was upset and kept asking why her throat felt tight. I asked if she felt if she was about to cry and she said yes. I told her that feeling was 'sad' and it was a real revelation for both of us. Some kids need to be given labels for feelings. I have others who knew how they felt about the world at their first breath. But they all feel loved when I recognize and help them notice and label their likes, dislikes, and feelings without judgment. Our relationship is more intimate when I am consistently doing it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigX8D3SwesuhdsPELuCP5bexaKz_Drg5oyMXKLwBlMCk1evOJUgiYd0WoG2mwPnUWhI1_o-nIGLHDA8WMk92L2exadjBZNJKVj_zs4JPJj9PZ8IGuNceHWEtWSs7fXkja9CpC_C4kUmBc/s1600/feelings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigX8D3SwesuhdsPELuCP5bexaKz_Drg5oyMXKLwBlMCk1evOJUgiYd0WoG2mwPnUWhI1_o-nIGLHDA8WMk92L2exadjBZNJKVj_zs4JPJj9PZ8IGuNceHWEtWSs7fXkja9CpC_C4kUmBc/s320/feelings.jpg" width="320" /></a>Not long after my talk about 'sad' with Lyra, I had a conversation with my boy,Ethan, who was about four at the time. I had a chart with pictures of 'feelings' faces and we would go around and ask what everyone was feeling and people would pick a face that best matched their mood. Actually, they loved it. We even discovered that often times you feel like more than one face at a time: Happy/Excited, Sad/Enraged, Confused/nervous. I would do this in both happy and angry times. It even helped them to calm down if they were able to point out and talk about what they felt. But with Ethan, even after a big fight or while my boy still had tears streaming down his cheeks, he would always point to 'Happy.' After yelling at his brother 'Happy.' After throwing a tantrum 'Happy.' After loosing his favorite toy 'Happy.' Finally I pointed out the tears on his face and his down turned mouth and asked why he still thought he was 'Happy' all the time. Finally he told me 'Well, Daddy is always happy.'<br />
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This beautiful boy was going to be 'Happy" come hell or high water because, more than anything, he wanted to be like Dad, who always was 'Happy,' even when he wasn't. I brought in Dad, who assured little Ethan that he did feel all the emotions, even if he didn't always show it. Our kids need all their emotions. They need to know how useful 'Sad' is. I mean, if it was important in <b>Inside Out</b>... ok, weak joke. I did, however, use that one to explain to my kids all sorts of useful and 'negative' emotions. Our kids will not defend themselves on the playground if they don't understand anger and how useful it can be.<br />
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Also, <u>Your Child's Self-esteem</u> by Dorothy Corkille Briggs has an excellent chapter (8) on how being honest about your emotions (angry, sad, frustrated included) is essential to building trust with your kids. The example of a kid walking in on his mom angrily sweeping the floor and automatically assuming that she found his contraband pet frog under the bed makes so much sense. The mom was mad about a fight she had with someone, but I agree that kids need to be assured that the angry isn't about them. Kids pick up on so much more than even they know. Be as appropriately honest with them about your feelings as you can be. They will trust you and themselves more, or that is what Briggs says, and it has been true with my five. .. When I am awesome enough to pull it off.<br />
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She also has a couple really good chapters on parental 'mirrors.' But the book is a heavy read and written in the 70's. I thought a good deal of it was worth it. I suspect as I continue through <u>Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child </u> by John Gottman, I will find other similar stuff.Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-66751877357221502472019-04-09T22:08:00.000-07:002019-04-09T22:08:59.706-07:00ExplanationSo I wrote up the last two posts and realized how strange they might look.<br />
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I feel like there are some really good parenting books out there and I have been lucky enough to run across some. But it is hard to get to their message through all the posing and judging and insulting examples of Jane the baby wise parent has an awesome baby because they follow these guidelines. Fran's baby is a lost cause because she didn't use our methods. I get it; by the time you are writing a book you feel pretty extreme about some of your methods. It seems they feel that anyone who does not agree is ensuring their children end up as juvenile delinquents. Jails are full, but not that full, folks.<br />
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To help some of us, my sister put together a marcopolo group where we go over the best of a few fantastic books. We do our best to ignore the asinine examples and implement the principles and ideas in them and then talk it over to see if we think we are getting it right and/or if it is working.<br />
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I have been writing out some of the 'homework' that is coming out of the reading, so that I can track some of our Progress. Anyway, that is what that is all about. Maybe some day I will actually write out some of my embarrassing and adorable successes and failures with this. But I feel like business first.<br />
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Some of the books we have been drawing from are:<br />
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<u>Love and Logic Magic for Early Childhood: Practical Parenting from Birth to Six Years</u> by Charels and Jim Fay<br />
<u>Easy to love, Difficult to Discipline</u> by Becky A Bailey, Ph.D<br />
<u>Parent Talk: Words that Empower, Words that Wound</u> by Chick Moorman.<br />
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And hopefully in the future add in<br />
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<u>Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child: The Heart of Parenting</u> by John Gottman Ph. D.<br />
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<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-77852985005566424922019-04-09T21:14:00.002-07:002019-04-09T21:14:38.667-07:00End Whining (Kid Parent Homework #2)<b>End the Whining (homework #2)</b><br />
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<li>Teach the difference between an whining voice and a 'kid' voice. Ok, this is one of those moments when it is just fun to be a parent because you can model the difference between 'whining' and 'kid' voice. Kids think it is absolutely hilarious when Parents, playfully, turn into big whiner babies. It's a good time, try it. Have them try the difference and practice phrases in whining voice and 'kid' voice. </li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">After they have been taught, very clearly, the difference between whining voice and kid voice, so long as they are whining over something that is not a serious need, kindly, and lovingly be confused. Kids pick up on insincerity really quickly. It is tempting to be sarcastic, but that will only make the situation turn angry. You really do want to help them. You love them. Lock onto that and with all your love, remember that 'Whining' is now a language you don't speak. Lovingly and with concern say: </li>
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'I can see you want to tell me something. I really want to help you, I just can't quite understand you.' In all fairness sometimes it really is hard to understand when they are in full whining mode. If they really aren't catching on you can try 'could you please try saying it in a kid voice?' </div>
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<li>Persevere. If they keep whining, continue to genuinely struggle to understand them. If it persists you can always walk away and take a break. They will figure it out. If it goes full tantrum mode, maybe there is a real need here you are missing or maybe they need to cool off in a safe place for a while. Do your best. </li>
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I figure that if I get it wrong this time round, no doubt I will get another try.</div>
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<li>Extra credit: </li>
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"Tell me what you want"</div>
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Once they are using a 'kid' voice, the content of the no-longer-whining voice, is still sometimes whining. "why did they get a treat?" "why don't I ever..." "they always..." I have been trying to coach my kids out of that (unsuccessfully so far) to say what they want instead. It isn't nearly as grating and then you can address their real focus instead of the side complaint. "I want a treat, to!" "I want to do the thing that they are doing." "I want a turn to..." </div>
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It is easy to know that you don't like something, but what a gift to know what you want.</div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-60829402269220330472019-03-25T21:33:00.002-07:002019-04-10T06:30:47.730-07:00Choices for young children (Kid Parent homework #1)<b>Choices for young children</b><br />
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<li>Give 99% of choices when things are going smoothly. Choices should evaporate when they misbehave. Which means that they need to be feeling choices consistently throughout the day. It is easier and harder than it sounds.</li>
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<li style="text-align: justify;">Provide choices only on things that don't create a problem for anyone and 100% commit to them. Give an a and b option and let them choose:</li>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Which shoe do you want to put on first, the left or the right? </span></div>
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Would you like to have fun today or not have fun? </div>
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Do you want to say dinner prayer or bedtime prayer? </div>
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While we wait would you like to wait with your pockets on your chair or standing against a wall?</div>
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Would you like to wash your hair first or use soap on your body first? </div>
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Would you like to eat your noodles first or your broccoli? </div>
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When your friend leaves do you want to give them hugs or high fives? </div>
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Would you like to brush your teeth on the top or bottom first? </div>
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Would you like to play at the table or on the floor? </div>
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Would you like to keep your hands folded or on your lap? </div>
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Would you like to read book a or b first?</div>
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"Would you like to do your flashcards first or your notebook"</div>
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<li>After giving choices wait 10 seconds (count in your head, not out loud- this is not count down to 'or else'). If they still haven't chosen, chose for them, and commit, don't go back. They will learn quickly to be more decisive. </li>
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<li>Every time you give your little one a chance to make a choice (no matter how simple and silly the choice seems to you) you make a 'deposit' of good will with your kid. It satisfies their desperate need to make choices and have a level of control over their lives. It is completely healthy and natural for them to want it. Just make sure that the choices they are making are appropriate to their age.</li>
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<li>As long as we tend their need to choose as often as we can and in situations appropriate to their safety and age, we will have made enough emotional 'deposits' to make a 'withdrawal' when it really is time to go to bed, or go to school, or take a bath. We can give choices around these events that give them the sense of investment and degree of control, but we still get to choose that the bedtime, school or bath is going to happen. It is shocking to see this work. But it does. Often. Be careful to still give choices when there is no looming thing they don't want. Remembering to remind them that they are actively choosing Legos over Jenga is hard because it is obvious. But reminding them that they have chosen anything at all is going to add to the choices bank account. Even when they ask permission to do something like go outside and play, simply adding 'you choose' to whatever thing they are requesting (that you already are ok with) still gives them the added satisfaction of feeling like they are choosing something that they were clearly already choosing and didn't even realize it. It gives them back some of their power and they feel it.</li>
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"Dad, can I go play with toys now?"</div>
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"It is okay with me, you choose."</div>
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"Mom can I have an apple?"</div>
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"I am okay with it, you decide."</div>
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"Dad can I go outside?"</div>
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"That's fine with me, it's up to you"</div>
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"Mom can I feed my little sister to the dog?"</div>
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"Sure, you... Wait, what?!"</div>
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Good luck.<br />
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<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-25365936935655531952018-07-10T21:03:00.002-07:002018-07-10T21:03:28.981-07:00Teaching Parker about the godhead:(about 2011)<br />
<br />
'God is the boss hero'<br />
'Yoshi likes Jesus'Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-50162556137319878372018-07-10T21:01:00.002-07:002018-07-10T21:01:26.027-07:00I found a lot of unpublished memories, they are broken and I deleted many of the sentences that didn't make any sense at all; I was exhausted. But here they are, where someday I can remember them with the kids.<br />
<br />
Ethan closing the freezer door carefully, one pant leg pulled out and trailing behind him<br />
<br />
Parker singing 'come out butterfly' to a beautiful monarch butterfly cocoon. <br />
<br />
Parker and Lyra both turning to me to give me kisses when I made kissy sounds at them in the store.<br />
<br />
Parker getting his blood pressure test at the store.<br />
<br />
Lyra singing to herself 'I'm a nice princess, I'm a nice princess'<br />
<br />
Parker singing to himself 'god loves me, god loves me' as he walked up to school.<br />
<br />
Esther had a toy in her hand and went to crawl away when Ethan cried and reached for the toy he wanted, she turned back, gave him the toy and then crawled away.<br />
<br />
Ethan got his finger pricked for a blood test and after the nurse was done milking the blood out of his finger they gave him back to me. I held him and through his tears, he held up his band-aid finger and started 'telling' on them, babbling loudly and angrily, waving his injured finger and then holding it close to my face for my inspection and then returning to angrily babbling at the ladies.<br />
<br />
The teacher took me aside and told me that Parker had been pitching a fit in the bus, they went on a field trip and gave each kid a buddy. They assigned a girl to Lyra and a boy for Parker. Parker was VERY upset. Apparently he insists on being behind Lrya in line as well. The teacher looked at me and half smiling said 'It's to keep an eye on her.' Parker is endlessly protective of Lyra. Lyra knocked over something and Parker was worried that she would get in trouble for it so he insisted that it was Esther that had done it, even though I had sat there and watched while Lyra did. When I insisted that it was, in fact, Lyra, Parker came over to tell me right in my face, like he was defending her honor, 'It was ESTHER!' Sweet for Lyra, problematic for mom.<br />
<br />
Oct 16<br />
Esther's first step<br />
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Oct 31<br />
Ethan's first step<br />
<br />
the rain let up a little before we left for trick or treating and it was GORGEOUS!<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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we went to a whole block of houses<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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everyone LOVED it<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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babies in the wagon got a sucker each<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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they too loved it<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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Once Parker had a little heft in his bag, he started running from house to house excitedly repeating 'candy! candy! candy! <span style="font-size: 13px;">when we got home I told them that since they had so much candy, we then had enough to pass some out as well!</span></div>
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so we emptied half their candy into a bowl and they gleefully passed it out to the many trick-or-treaters that were still passing though</div>
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There were only a few of their more favorite candies left and now they are playing cats.... and giving Esther suckers, because she loves them.<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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it is sweet, but I am going to have a lot of washing to do to get all her sucker smears off everything.<span class="aSy" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; padding-left: 1em; visibility: hidden;"></span></div>
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I didn't want to take it from her, though, because the kids were so happy to see how happy she was.</div>
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Nov 7</div>
<div class="J4mLcc" data-email="jessicaannchan@gmail.com" data-oid="105749900963987400009" data-type="s" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; padding-bottom: 1em; padding-top: 21px; position: relative;">
Chris went out of town for a few days, and the kids were angels. Ethan and Esther brought themselves in from the car while I got kids backpacks. Lyra and Parker brought in groceries by themselves and brought them all the way in to the kitchen. It even occurred to me that there was no possible way that they would all behave so well were it not a blessing. Also, I felt significantly less tired. I was happy and patient and energized - there was no particular reason for it, I really, honestly think that it was a sincere blessing. And it occurred to me that Chris must have prayed for me - earnestly and fervently. Later when he called, I asked him if he had, and he said, almost surprised, that he did. I could tell. I could feel it in myself and see it in the kids. I know it sounds cheesy and dumb, but it really happened. </div>
<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-28612458699558647702018-07-10T20:47:00.000-07:002018-07-10T20:47:16.594-07:002015<br />
Lyra came running in at night yelling 'Esther has her head stuck under the bed! we knew that they hadn't actually gone to bed yet and were in there messing around. Chris jumped out of the bed and ran to save Esther. He came back promptly to report that the 'head' stuck under the bed was actually the head of Esther's toy. So, it was hers, but.... not actually her literal head.<br />
<br />
<br />
Isaac loves paw patroll. the way he says it sounds a lot like 'bottle' but he loves it. He will give anyone a hug. I asked for a kiss and he made a kissing noise and leaned in till I presented a cheek, then he pulled away with a wicked grin and laughed with the sweetest glee. He was teasing me, and he knew it. When he sees anyone he loves walk in the door he yells with excitement and throws his hands in the air. It is beautiful. <br />
<br />
Ethan has been very literal minded. I guess he has been that way for a while. A few months ago he was telling me that, in spite of what I was saying, the car could not 'say' anything because it didn't have a mouth. It really upsets him when we pretend to mistake his identity with anyone else. It can really upset Parker, too. <br />
<br />
Today Parker's teacher called to tell me he is doing great in school. When we moved here he was decidedly behind and struggling. But he is right where he should be now. I am really proud that he has pulled up. In some ways he is ahead, too. So is Lyra. Apparently in the computer math class she had one of the top seven scores.<br />
<br />
Esther is always saying quirky things. It is always startling, and I never remember what it is that she said. 'I want to do that, because it is fun' It is fun because a lot of the kids her age would never think to add anything beyond the informative 'I want' so when she takes time to add the because, it is startling and fun. When she is excited about something, I mean really hoping and excited, she clenches her fists and flexes every muscle in her body till she trembles. It is adorable. perhaps not when I write it, so much of who she is must be enjoyed in person. <br />
<br />
1/20/2016<br />
<br />
I realized that I hadn't really written anything about the kids last year. Ops. I think I had written a few sulky posts and wanted to wait until I had that under control before I started imposing on whomever read again. I ran across this random piece of paper with a few sweet stories that happened the first few months that we were in St George last year. I thought I would throw them up so that I could finally toss this abused scrap of paper to a place of rest. <br />
<br />
- Ethan- is very particular about how his socks are. They must line up perfectly along his toes or he fusses and fusses and cries and screams. The sweet thing is that when he saw me putting Isaac's socks on, and the seam didn't line up perfectly across Isaac's toes, he fussed and fussed and began to pull off Isaac's shoes until I realized what was upsetting him. I lined the sock perfectly along Isaac's toes and Ethan calmed down immediately.<br />
<br />
- Esther - is unusually expressive. She can hardly talk still, but that doesn't stop her from saying 'awesome' when she saw a bowling ally for the first time. She also exclaimed 'amazing' when I turned on the kitchen aid to make cookies with her for the first time since we moved.<br />
<br />
-Lyra and Parker- We tried putting them in the same room for a while. I think is was because it was so cold, or they were having a hard time transitioning in the move? I can't remember now. Parker was generally very patient with Lyra, but he had been complaining that he couldn't sleep because she kept talking and making noise. To this, Lyra replied 'I just feel like if Parker's eyes are open, he wants to hear me.'<br />
<br />
A conversation that Lyra and Parker had in the back of the car:<br />
<br />
Lyra "Parker, listen to me! Mommy, Parker won't listen to me!'<br />
Parker "I would listen if you told the truth"<br />
Lyra "I always tell the truth"<br />
Parker "no, you don't, Lyra"<br />
<br />
I may have already written these down somewhere, but there they are, fun enough to be worth remembering.<br />
<br />
I don't know that I ever wrote about when Parker saw some dried, smeared strawberries on the floor of the store. He demanded some wipes, and then started wiping them off the floor of the store. I know I had been telling him about being helpful or something, but had never intended it be taken that way. He even got at least Lyra to start helping and they both sat there, insisting that we scrub that smeared fruit off. Afterwards I really wanted someone besides me to give them a pat on the back for their super civic-mindedness. I grabbed the first employee that I saw and told them, queuing them in that they should be impressed. It was an older woman who enthusiastically told them how well they did, that she was the store manager and asked if they wanted a treat. She then marched over to the candy isle, tore open a bag of dumdums (my kids favorite) and passed them out. I was so grateful to her I started to tear up. I guess our transition up to that point had been hard if it meant that much to me. I still wonder if it was ok to let her open a new bag for us. Still so grateful. <br />
<br />
So there you have it, apparently all I have saved by way of memories from St George. I feel awful because our kids were so beautiful. They still are. They are so very beautiful and happy and kind. Unfortunately all I can really remember about that time is the occasional beautiful hike, horseback riding lessons, sitting in the ER with Parker suffocating and with blue lips in my lap as everyone in the wating room was seen except us. People after us were seen and we were still waiting, even though I had checked at the counter that our place in the cue had not been lost. They still didn't see us until I offered to pay them up front. We didn't have any insurance at the time because Steton had some BS excuse for why they couldn't but had given every indication that they would. I also remember sitting in the ER with Ethan. He had been throwing up constantly, we all had. But he was particularly bad. We finally had insurance, but when I had spoken with the nurse, she said that I was not to bring him in until he had gone so long without keeping fluids down. I did wait that long and by then when I walked into the regular dr's office the looked at me for the negligent mother that I was and sent me to the ER without seeing him. We then sat in the ER waiting for them to give Ethan an IV because he was dehydrated. We waited at least 3 hours after the dr. had seen him. No one would give him even a sip of water no matter how the dehydrated toddler begged for one. even the skin around his nose and mouth was uniquely white and dried, it was like he was developing white veins around those places. And then again in the hospital with Isaac finally getting ear tubes after months of consecutive ear infections. It was awful. Sometimes we had insurance, sometimes we didn't. Then they changed it. We had three different providers that year. and spent a few months with no provider at all. It was a nightmare. This year we have had two so far. I am not bitter, I just absolutely loath this company.<br />
<br />
On the upside, the people who love me found me a gym where I went every day. It helped my knees a lot. And horse back riding lessons. Who knew, but they were a life saver. They were a chance to get out, do something that didn't involve a crying kid, poop or vomit. Playing with horses humanized me I guess. <br />
<br />
Since moving to the Salt Lake valley, I have been at home more. I think I am doing better now. Granted, the other day I was fed up with the sewage leaking from the upstairs and into the down stairs. My solution to that was to start tearing up the flooring in the upstairs bathroom. I found the problem. And the accompanying mold. I cleaned up what I could and then ordered $300 in tools. They arrive Wednesday. I wonder if they will be enough. It is a relief to do something, though. <br />
<br />
<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-38870130211824678102018-07-10T20:35:00.001-07:002018-07-10T20:35:19.803-07:0011/4/2017<br />
I had a moment alone with Issac today. It was so peaceful and happy. The house was clean. I had a cup of tea, Issac was playing adorably with play-dough. The trees were dancing around dropping the last of their yellow leaves. There was beautiful music playing softly in the back. It was absolute peace. There was a soft cloud cover making everything seem extra cozy inside. The occasional sun ray broke through the clouds just to assure us that the clouds were just for fun. Even the light, warm rain was breezy and affectionate. It was perfect. Issac was making 'pizza' that I would eat between my sips of tea. I would then make them into balls, which he made into spaghetti strings with the 'play-dough stapler' but were actually vegetables that, naturally, made perfect pizza. It was so peaceful. I wish it was possible to capture that feeling and share it with myself years from now. Isaac is so beautiful.<br />
<br />
Parker is doing so well in school right now. I asked him to compare a moment when he was not listening to the teacher to a specific moment when he was. To think of how those moments felt. He thought about it and said that not obeying really didn't feel as good. the example he used was when he chose to lie on the floor during class. He was lying in bed at the time and compared it to lying in bed. 'Why did it feel different? I was just lying down like I am now.' I appreciate that he could feel the difference, but it is hard to explain to an eight year old why they feel different,even though physically they are the same. I am glad he saw it, though. I think it made an enormous difference in his motivation to behave. He is so much happier. It is visible in his eyes. His posture is so much happier and bright. It is such a relief to see him settling back into himself again. To see his sweet childish smile and bright curious eyes.<br />
<br />
Ethan is doing really well in Karate and told Uncle Ammon that he even has four teachers who all have, get this, the same first name. They are all named sensei! He is great. I love how he will just hold my hand as we walk and talk to me about whatever. I love how he builds one 'contraption' after another and shamelessly asks us to tell him what we like most about the contraption before he sets it off. He and Isaac don't always get along, but he still looks out for Isaac. Isaac threw 'turtleie' over the fence and Ethan was the one who made sure he was found and retrieved for the sobbing little brother. (7/10/2018) Another little boy on the playground was running around terrorizing smaller kids and decided to pick on Isaac. I believe he called Isaac a 'poop face.' It clearly upset Isaac and Ethan, enraged, grabbed the kids arm and squeezed hard enough to make it red for just a little while. I took Ethan aside and asked him what was going on and Ethan said 'I don't know, but I didn't like that the boy was being mean to Isaac. It made me really mad.' Whatever, call me a bad mom, but I gave Ethan huge props. I was so proud of him. I do feel bad for the little boy. I did my best to explain that I really believe kids act out like that because they have no better way to express some of the frustration they build up. Poor kid. At least my kid's anger problems are mom approved (nervous laugh).<br />
<br />
Esther is so beautiful. We had haircuts today, which she loves, and she sat there telling the stylist so matter of factly how she wants things to look and how she is glad to be there, because she likes it. She was so fun to watch during her dance class. She is getting so big and moves with such enthusiasm and a spunky grace. I love it. She loves Lyra. They are such good friends.<br />
<br />
Lyra prides herself as being a voracious reader. She really is. And I love seeing how different her beauty is from one age to another. She is changing so much right now. She is asking more thoughtful questions and countering when the answer doesn't make sense. It is such a joy to see how she is working through ideas. We every other night, all the girls climb up the ladder to her top bunk, give the password, and then pile up to listen to her read scriptures and snuggle. I think all three of us love it. I am so glad to get to be with these girls. They are both so cool.Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-70306452100441216382016-07-11T21:21:00.000-07:002016-07-11T21:21:12.718-07:00orientation <div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfm2FMfAb_EVW6qPXXnFnNNlcxW0AEHHL3c4mvPrJCR2e0QHDzH1YbtO0mbSD2PxKzcv6L_pkin7QU-oqHL8H1jM6xeNevymtfZCe8c32sLKfh3BkPum7t1fUTTbS1eTj_69MbDx49XE/s1600/20160708_091502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfm2FMfAb_EVW6qPXXnFnNNlcxW0AEHHL3c4mvPrJCR2e0QHDzH1YbtO0mbSD2PxKzcv6L_pkin7QU-oqHL8H1jM6xeNevymtfZCe8c32sLKfh3BkPum7t1fUTTbS1eTj_69MbDx49XE/s320/20160708_091502.jpg" width="180" /></a>I arrived there at 9 am. It was mandatory that I attend the entire orientation and I would not be allowed to register for classes till I had. The entire orientation. The actual orientation didn't start till about 9:30. So I sat there, my babysitting time ticking away, waiting. Finally the well-meaning students clapped and chanted some enthusiastic 'it's morning time' cheer at us and started handing out 'welcome' bags with the schedule and a school news paper tucked into it. </div>
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Even though it was an orientation specifically for transfer students, I was still obviously older than everyone there. Some people were there with their mothers. Some with both parents. Most of them were in their early twenties. While that was entirely appropriate, it did make me feel a little out of place. There was a small 'fair' set up where they had a few tables with pamphlets and SWAG for the different clubs and student organizations on campus. I got a free t-shirt that I am sure my BYU in-laws will hate. There was a small table that talked about babysitting, day care and other resources for those looking to be hired or hire child care. I appreciated the table, but it was obvious that it was for people with one or two young kids, not five. Which again, was fine. I was obviously not the target demographic for this. There were also optional campus tours, and so to fill the obligatory time, I took the tour, too.<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">.</span></div>
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The tour was led by an enthusiastic young woman from the biology department. She showed us the library where we can write <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">on the windows with dry erase markers and where they had a 'parents room.' I wasn't able to actually see into it, but apparently there are toys in there for the kids so parents can study. I don't know how successful that is, but I am interested to try. Just like I am interested to try some of the other very important information they shared once we returned to the ballroom.</span></div>
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In the ballroom we hunkered down and learned very important things like how we shouldn't drink on campus and only engage in consensual sex and what both of those mean. It was funny to be there with all the younger group, who were still a little giddy about both those topics. I am glad to find out that I have been having consensual sex all these years. They went over all the scenarios in which it would or would not be completely consensual, just in case there was any confusion. Also, no slut shaming. I am not going to do that. I think I am safe to say that I can work with those rules. Oddly enough, they didn't really go into drugs. Or maybe I had completely tuned out by then. I think I was reading something someone had written on the window with a dry erase marker. They began to tell us about the parties that were held on campus and the fun food trucks that came through for lunch. We could also write on the glass with a dry erase marker.</div>
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I was only there because they had refused to let me register for classes until I had had the tour, promised to only have consensual sex, had eaten the horrible chicken salad they served up on a stale bun with warm water to drink and had heard them out about how to contest things through this department and that department. It made sense. I understand where to go for a student loan if I need one. </div>
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It was a little frustrating how the babysitting bill was racking up while they gave cute directions on how it was important to participate in 'transfer Tuesday' which would be held at a time I could never attend and required hours I wouldn't have to give. Really, I was questioning my decision entirely. This cutesy rhyming world full of meet and greet opportunities was never going to work out for me. This was for people with time to spare and looking for an 'experience.'</div>
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Finally we divided off according to major. that was when I had hope that this whole thing wasn't a mistake. </div>
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The student who gave us a tour through the business building seemed to be directed, even though the long tour through the business building seemed designed to waste just a little more time. Good news is, I now know that the modern sculpture that runs down the walls and between the floors is supposed to emulate a waterfall. Oh, and did I mention that we can write on any glass with a dry erase marker? </div>
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The winding tour ended at a computer lab where the different business department heads introduced themselves. They promised us again that if we just held in there a little longer they would finally show us how to register and with 30 min to spare before I had to be back for the babysitter, they did. I did not have enough time to see one of the promised academic counselors, which was fine because I had already done that a few months ago. I was frustrated to find that they still had not uploaded my classes. There was a problem because I had completed my previous degree so the system refused to recognize my credits. I was assured that eventually they would be counted. Meanwhile, time was up for me. They had gone over time. They helped the other students walk through their own registration,and I had to run home. My babysitter had to go, and I was going to have to figure the rest out myself that night after kids had gone to bed. But I had done my time and technically I would be allowed to sign up now.</div>
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Welcome to the U of U</div>
Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-66244889827950434532016-03-04T22:54:00.001-08:002016-03-04T23:01:45.077-08:00March 3, 2016<br />
I have a few sweet stories I want to write out before I forget them. <br />
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Parker walked up to the breakfast table to see his cherished plants vs. zombies book had food on it and that some of the pages stuck together. He was so upset. Ethan and Esther sat there, watching Parker as he railed, frustrated, wanting to know who did it and over and over again Esther said I didn't. I had no idea what had happened so I did my best to comfort Parker. He had been reading that 50 page comic book multiple times a day. He genuinely had cherished it. Finally, seeing the deep frustration and anger on Parker's face, Esther said '... Parker, I did it. I am sorry.' She is only three. I was really proud of her. Parker immediately stopped railing and after a bit of silence he responded 'it's ok, Esther.' And that was it. I was so proud of them. Both of them. I later told Parker we could get another one but I assured him that intentionally ruining his books would not win him more. It is Parker, I do have to hedge these things. But that is besides the point. Lyra has also been exceptionally forgiving of Esther, Ethan and Isaac. I can't count the coloring books, coveted markers and other treasures of hers that the little kids have mauled. She is not always completely patient and she clearly doesn't like it, but usually she will have a little cry and then move on. I am really proud of how forgiving and patient they are of each other they are. <br />
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Also, today at the grocery store, Parker picked up trash in the parking lot. Of course when we got into the Harmons Grocery store, he had to tell the first employee what he had done and of course she was impressed. She must have been a manager because she then asked me if she could give all five of my kids a balloon. It was so sweet of her. Helium balloons are a coveted treasure here. And while she was doing it, Parker passed them out to every one else before he took one. Then when I tried to tie Esther's balloon to her wrist and it floated out of my grip, Parker gave her his balloon. Reciting that people were more important than balloons. <br />
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Parker is always serving his siblings. The other day Lyra had dropped her back pack so of course, Parker comes running back down from the end of the road to get it for her. On his way, he tripped and must have hit really hard. So seeing Parker fall, Lyra runs home for help. I was in screwing together our bathroom so I didn't hear her yelling till she was opening the door saying 'Parker and he fell and he might be bleeding.' So of course I drop the tools and go running for him, telling Lyra to watch the kids just for a second. I found him on the sidewalk around the corner, still wrestling down sobs. He must have hit hard and right on his fore head but seemed to have nothing too serious so I helped him walk home. I am so glad that Lyra was so quick to come and get me, though. I can tell she was really worried about him. <br />
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I am so grateful for my gracious kids. Parker is really hard on himself, but I am so very proud of him. Lyra works so hard, too. Esther and Ethan and even Isaac are all following, too. <br />
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The other day I took the three little ones to the gym. Isaac has been very mommy hungry lately and wasn't excited to be left behind at the kid care, so I asked Esther to help him. She said 'sure' and walked over to Isaac, putting her arm around him and patting him on the back. It was extremely tender and gentle. And then later that day when I was at the park with them some girl was tired of waiting for Esther to go down the slide and gave her a shove to start her down. Esther did not appreciate the help and when Ethan saw how upset she was, He looked up the slide at this girl, who was much bigger and older than he was, and told her off; 'hey, don't push my friend Esther! She didn't like it!' I think he even demanded she tell Esther sorry, which the older girl definitely did. <br />
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I love that they see each other as friends. It is very common to hear Ethan and Isaac laughing as they pile up on each other on the small slide I have put in the living room. Or Isaac giggling as he goads Esther into chasing him or as he pretends to tickle her. The other day Isaac asked for something he didn't want just so he could share it with Ethan and Esther. When running errands, Ethan and Esther hunt down the other's hands so that they can be safe crossing the street. When Isaac wandered off (I knew where he was) Ethan and Esther were both panicked until we had him directly in sight again. Then later when Ethan played the same game and turned the corner for a minute, Isaac, surprisingly, was just as concerned that Ethan was out of sight as his siblings had been to loose him. <br />
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The other, other day (I seem to be citing a lot of those just now) Lyra and Parker were asking why they couldn't invite one of their friends to come to the movie with them. I had to explain that his mommy didn't know us well enough and she needed to know that we were safe before she would let us take her little boy somewhere. Lyra thought about that for a while and then said 'well, we can just tell her we are Heatons.' She said it so matter of course. It would explain everything. Because Heatons are kind, helpful, they keep each other safe and they always tell the truth. Once his mommy realized that we were Heatons, this should not be a problem anymore. The good news is, once people get to know my kids, I don't think that it will be long before they realize that it is true. My little Heatons are kind, helpful, they keep each other safe, they share and they do always tell the truth. Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-54274266972762569552015-12-10T22:10:00.001-08:002015-12-17T19:33:55.259-08:00Why thanksgiving is so much better than Christmas (because come on, Christmas is about Santa and presents; lets stop lying to ourselves)I was considering it, and I decided, I need the official version of how Chris and I met. Or at least I need to write it down. <br />
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before I start, I think you should know, I am almost unendurably smitten with Chris, to this day. I love Chris so very much and there is no success or adventure that could have compensated for not being married to him. That is probably why I see this story as so deeply important. It explains why I am who I am and why I am where I am. But it is going to be painfully sappy and religious and I know some of you aren't into either of those things. So, you have been warned.<br />
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I know that you hear in fairy tales about being destined for someone. I always thought it was nonsense. And while some people really are wonderful enough to make it work with whomever, I think that we were born crying, for fear that we would never find each other again. <br />
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I remember watching my parents marriage and thinking that I would never want that. That I would never be someone's wife. Even so, I was deeply concerned that I would never find him. It makes no sense. But I was not going to do that whole marriage thing. It looked awful. <br />
That being the case I ultimately decided to go on a mission, because I felt pretty strongly and clearly that it was something I should do. And also, because that is what women who are going to be old maids do, according to my Dad. So, it fit. And once I decided that it was really what I should do, I knew it had to be immediately. I rushed the paper work and got out as soon as I could. I wasn't sure why. My Dad speculated that it had to do with some guy. Whatever Dad. I guess he was right, though.<br />
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My MTC companion and I both went to the same mission and we saw each other here and there. When we returned home we became room mates. More because she was incredibly organized and got a group of us returned missionaries together. I think I was a horrible room mate. Mostly I was gone.<br />
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What does this have to do with meeting Chris? Well, I will tell you when I am good and ready. Because I am the writer here and I know most of you have already tuned out. So I can be as long winded about it as I want. <br />
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Anyway, The night before the start of Thanksgiving break, I found myself deviating from my normal routine. Normally I stayed in the library until they played loud music at midnight and announced that everyone had to go home. I had walked half way home when I realized how early it was. I almost turned around and went back to the library. I paused there on the sidewallk weirdly torn. For whatever blessed reason, I didn't turn back. I like to think it was the good old-fashioned spirit that kept my feet moving to somewhere that I needed to be that night. <br />
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So, before long, there I was, in the apartment, decked in a white t-shirt that my younger brothers had cast aside and a pair of yellow Christmas light pajama pants that I had found floating around back home. Yup, super classy. My room mate mentioned that her friend was coming over, so I obligingly sprawled out on the living room floor with a text book. Yup, classy room mate. <br />
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Someone knocked on the door and I saw him framed in the door way. I can still see it. Decked in a forest green hoodie that made his beautiful eyes dance, was Chris. I thought idly, 'huh, I am going to date that guy.' Which was nonsense. <br />
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I had actually dumped a guy just that week because I had decided that dating for fun wasn't a kind thing to do to people. He thought it was going somewhere and I knew it never would, because he hadn't served a mission. So if I was going to date, it should be because I was honestly looking. I wasn't going to get married, remember? So, that whole impression about dating the guy with the gorgeous green eyes was just crazy bubbling up.<br />
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He sat down and started talking with the people who were there. Soon he directed his attention to the girl in the white shirt lounging on the floor in front of a text book. 'Hey, so what is your name?" I put on a comically distressed expression and responded 'what? you don't remember me? After that night we had?!" I had often answered this way to guys and, at least at BYU, the reaction was always to blush or stutter or just be completely confused. Chris smiled and said 'Oh my gosh - you were the girl at squaw peak! I didn't catch your name, but I think I caught your gum!" I laughed, delighted. Seriously, no one else had shot back, much less cited the notorious make-out spot as a come back. I don't remember what the rest of the conversation was, but I do remember Chris showing me the latest console game that was coming out (the wii, totally dates me, huh?). And as we peered over the keyboard of a laptop, it hit me. 'I am going to marry this guy.' <br />
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When he decided to leave, he offered to come and check on me while I was home alone for the Thanksgiving vacation. All my roommates would be out of town, so of course someone had to come and check in on me. I gave him my number, just to ensure that when he passed by, I would actually be there. And that was it. I knew he would call. And soon. I was arrogant that way. <br />
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The next day he sent me a text message asking if I would be home that night. I was standing in front of the BYU library. I can still remember the way the air felt, cold and just a little breezy, the purple and yellow pansies that were planted in the planter behind me. I smirked with satisfaction when I saw it. <br />
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That's right, you thought I was great. We met every night that Thanksgiving week, except for thanksgiving day. You know, family is important. I made him some amazing fudge topping that first night. I thought I was sharing nector of the gods. It was only after we were married that I learned he hates fudge. And he still gives me a hard time about a shirt I was wearing. I thought it was beautiful, but he thought it was absolutely hideous. <br />
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That week we went to see the lights at temple square, we went for dinner at an Indian restaurant. We went bowling. On our first date he held my hand while we were at a movie. He says that I was hiding my hand under my leg, but I was <i>not</i>. Eventually he leaned over and said 'Can I hold your hand?' I obliged and made it as easy for him as I could. His palms were so nervous sweaty it was almost comical. He was charming and fun, confident and tender and strong willed. He thought about things and liked that I had opinions. <br />
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After the first date I was on a group phone call with my room mates (one of them expected to be proposed to soon and we wanted stories) and my room mate asked if Chris had stopped by. I said that we had held hands on the first date. I didnt think it was a huge deal but on the other end, all I heard was 'Whaaaat?!' I had been happy about it myself, but wasn't sure what this reaction was all about. Later Chris told me that she had called him up for details. And that is when I found out. <br />
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Chris had dated everyone. And by date I mean he had taken out everyone but had never had a relationship until only a few months before me. Which means he had gotten to 26 without so much as holding a single girls hand, in spite of his constant dating. I think he was looking for me. He just didn't know it. I think he was just searching for me. I am just glad that he recognized me when he found me.<br />
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I was also grateful for the heads up. This guy needed someone who was a slow mover. So instead of kissing him goodbye, I gave him a warm hug when he had to leave town. He did find time to sneak by and drop off a bouquet of balloon flowers before he actually left for his flight. <br />
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Anyway, it was a good thing I had such a striking impression on the whole marriage thing. I was having to make some serious decisions. I knew at least three people who were older, had graduated from prestigious colleges and were still single and alone. I watched them wander round the world, alone. Some were fancy barristers, and they were still alone. And they were not happy. I was offered some exciting opportunities but it became painfully clear to me that if I wanted this to work, I would have to pass them up. It was hard, but I was right in the end.<br />
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So there it is. And that is probably why we celebrate Thanksgiving with more excitement and fervor than we do Christmas. It is because that is when happiness began. It was the start of feeling true joy. <br />
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Every time I think of this story I wonder what would have become of me had I never served a mission, or if I hadn't left immediately to find my room mate, or if I had strung that guy on in a vain exploit. Or if I had actually turned around and gone back to the library. <br />
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I am so grateful for some of the active good choices I made so that I could be in the right place at the right time. I am so grateful that the spirit was there to push me where I would not have gone on my own. It is the ultimate thanksgiving story. I am so grateful for Chris. Gods greatest gesture of love for me was helping us to stumble into each other.<br />
<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-56437986054123464472015-12-04T21:34:00.001-08:002015-12-04T21:34:35.950-08:00We found a Christmas tree today. Parker proudly found it after Chris had refused to buy the trees that had been sprayed hot pink or purple. Parker was lobbying hard for one, too. I think that he saw how happy it made Lyra and that was enough for him... That, and it was a bright pink pine tree... I mean, honestly, how is it possible for anyone to pass that up? Ask Chris, I guess. <div>
There was a Santa in a sleigh there, too. He was not happy to be there, poor frozen man, tucked all the way in the back of the lot next to the real reindeer that they had brought in. Lyra and Parker stood there staring at him with a look of confusion and curiosity. I told them to go up and give ol' Santa a high five. They did and he asked Lyra and Parker if they would like to sit in his lap and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. So, for those who don't know, we don't really play up the Santa thing. Yes, yes, I know, we are robbing them of their childhood. I just need them to believe me on some things and loosing good will on Santa seems like a waste of trust and good will. I'll pay for the therapy, kids. </div>
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Anyway, Lyra and Parker stood there staring at 'Santa' in confusion until I explained that he just wanted to know what to get them for Christmas. It was actually nice because Lyra had changed her mind on what she wanted without saying anything. Apparently someone at school had told her that roller scates were hard to use. She wasn't up for that and had settled on a poly pocket doll. Good to know. </div>
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This is a boring blog post. Esther looked adorable at the tree farm in her fir trimmed hood. Ethan was sweet and excited to walk around in the forest of close pine trees. Isaac was just trying to figure out how long it would be before he could convince Parker to hand him the candy cane Santa had given Parker. We bought a skinny crooked tree for a ridiculous price because Parker was so adorably excited that he had found it. </div>
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My teenage self would be horribly disappointed in our tree. My teenage self was also stupid. My tree is crooked, poorly lit with an even more crooked star at the top. Most of our nice ornaments have been broken and lost. The only ones left are the craft ones Lyra and Parker made in preschool and kindergarten. That, and some paper ornaments with family pictures from last year, clumsily glued and taped to it. I think it is beautiful. Esther and Ethan lit up when they saw their pictures being hung up on that tree. So, yeah, best tree ever. Pictures to come should I ever get my act together. </div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-72109189363730441982015-10-22T00:53:00.002-07:002015-10-22T00:53:32.409-07:00October 21 2015Chris took the kids off to pass candy to the rest of the employees where he worked as I stood there. Purposeless and awkwardly staring into the faces of what was at least four but seems like it may have been five of the people Chris tells me about almost every day. It seemed as they looked at me expectantly. Like I was supposed to say something clever or spontaneously burst into glitter. <div>
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Or at least that is how it felt. Really they were all just trying to be polite but all I could think was a silent prayer over and over that I would not say something that would embarrass Chris or get him in trouble. I love that Chris tells me things. But I have proven either brilliant in these situations or epicly offensive. I don't seem to strike a medium. So there I was. what do I say? They told me that they enjoyed working with Chris and I said of course they did. I knew he was wonderful but I worried that they didn't know it. And then worried that I had said something that would get him in trouble, I clammed up and mentioned that Was that the wrong thing to say? Was that presumptuous of me? I mean, the CEO was right there. The CFO then tried to cushion, saying that of course that is why I married him. But then all I could think was 'I didn't marry Chris because I thought he would be well off' so of course I said I married him because he was good looking. It was a love at first sight kind of thing for me, but he took some convincing. Then they said that the girl always feels that way... and oh no, there I was. Now not only did I marry him because I thought he was going to be wealthy, but because I was one of those marry desperate type. I didn't want to sit there and explain that I had actually been very opposed to getting married at all I didn't want to sit there and explain that I currently couldn't stand motherhood, that I was desperate to be in a fulfilling career. That when I looked in the mirror all I could see was an exhausted, aging, mind numb, bone weary, lonely, insignificant mom who hated what she saw. <div>
I think I felt the full weight of my confusion. I was exhausted. I haven't slept well at night at all these last few nights. I try to sleep but I just can't. it is the worst. and when I finally do, Isaac cries, or Esther cries and cries and cries till I have basically spent the night sleepless and on the floor in her room. I haven't eaten properly in months. I think my sisters are convinced I have an eating disorder because when I snatched a minute to talk on skype and stuff a hastily thrown together sandwich, my sister complemented me on eating something. Particularly something nourishing. It was awful to realize that I look like that to other people. But I do have an eating disorder. It is called a load of kids. I also have a bladder disorder. I go to the gym every morning, in large part because if I don't I have to wait to pee till Isaac takes a nap and Ethan and Esther are not going to cry and bang down the door because they can't reach me. Realistically I have to just wait till everyone is in bed that night. Sometimes I can when Chris gets home. </div>
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Anyway, sure, I have a sleeping disorder and an eating disorder and a bowl disorder. And in spite of that, I was standing there. Trying to think of something, anything that would not embarrass Chris. I complemented Gary, that Chris missed working with him, not that he was unhappy working where he was, he is always happy, but he misses you. Oh no! I have said too much. Panic. Chris is a good man, a great husband and excellent father. And I had nothing else to say. I couldn't think of a single thing to say that I trusted myself to say in a way that would not create a problem. </div>
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When we had first walked in with our twins people asked if twins run in the family. They always do. I have failed that question in the past. Ending with an epic 'it was fertility, but the problem was me, not Chris. Chris is a fertility God, fertility god, fertility god' yeah, I didn't say it three times but I might as well have. That was another work party at a different company. So when they asked again, everyone sat there expectantly. And they actually waited the five seconds of silence while Chris and I stared back and forth at each other, remembering last time. We struggled to think of the right thing to say. Finally I said simply that they were fertility twins. and that the infertility ran in my family. And that if they ever wanted to hear a painfully awkward story about that particular question to catch me another time. It is kinda funny when I say it now. But it was just a reminder of how bad I could be at these meetings. </div>
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Why was I there? Why was I so out of place? I was so far away from that intelligent accomplished woman I always had set out to be. Why was I there? </div>
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And now I sit here running over the later conversations and... why didn't I say this or that? Why is it that at best I am a fortune hunter or simply a marriage hungry baby maker? Or either a trophy wife or a nag? And how can that possibly be when I was so bright in college with so many opportunities? How can that be? I <i>am</i> working. I have been, till I have become a stuttering awkward fortune hunter with an eating disorder? </div>
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And so, my dear friends, what is my recourse? What are the sensible actions I have taken to rectify my confusion and desperation? I am soaking my sore tendentious feet, and with a hot cup of coca in my hands, I am watching pride and prejudice. Isaac is restless anyway. He keeps waking and crying and fussing. Parker started wandering the halls crying because he had a bad dream. He had a nightmare that I had disappeared. </div>
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After snuggling in with him, he put his arm around me and pulled the blanket around the both of us. I told him that I will always be here, loving him. Even while he is at school, even always, even after we are both old and I have died, I will still be here doing my best to help him. Because I am his mommy. And that is what I do.</div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-89290024462947118992015-05-18T20:31:00.000-07:002015-05-18T20:31:35.531-07:00We all went tumbling across the grass as the entire playground exploded. <br />
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I opened my eyes to see a ring of young faces around mine, looking with concern. Lyra, Parker, Ethan, Esther and Wyatt all stood there looking down at me. </div>
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'is she dead?'</div>
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'no, look, she's fine.'</div>
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The brave fire fighters stared down at me, just watching. I held Isaac, who was still giggling in my arms. Yeah, That was fun. The kids helped me up and we all started back to where the playground had 'exploded' to start the long rebuilding process. Lyra and Parker went right to work, hammering while Ethan and Wyatt started making cakes for them. Workers don't know how to cook for themselves, as Lyra told us. And as the local authority on construction, we had to belive her. The cake was served, Esther ran it up to the workers and it was all done. Lyra admired the new blue and white colors they had selected for the new playground as the younger kids tested out the steering wheel portion. They had done a good job. </div>
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They continued to explore the awesome new parts of the playground until Wyatt perked up, hand to his ear he said </div>
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'What's that? I hear, I hear a FIRE!' and he went dashing for a fire pole and slid down it... then came around and slid down it once more, just for good measure. Ethan and Esther followed with Parker driving this time while the others lined up behind him yelling contradicting directions. It must have been distracting because he didn't see me standing there. </div>
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'AHH! Mommy! lookout!'</div>
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I had Isaac in my arms still and dove to the side, escaping with my life by inches. They really should licence these firemen at a little older age. </div>
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They arrived at the fire where a mother and her two 20 mo old blond twins were playing. Lyra and Esther ran to the scene, up ladders, Parker using the monkey bars to reach them. The little twins and their mother weren't quite sure what was going on, but with some assuring, they were very glad that they had been saved from sure death. Those fires can sneak up on you so fast. Which was probably why Wyatt was tugging so hard on Ethan's hand. Ethan was furious. He didn't need help, no matter how kindly offered, and stood his ground, screaming and refusing to let Wyatt help him up the stairs. Esther came darting by their desperate scene yelling 'nanny nanny boo boo, you can't catch me!' And finally the sound of Lyra smacking from one side of the zip line to the other brought the boys away. </div>
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It began to rain and lyra slipped from her grip at the zip line only to land on a bomb! Parker yelled to her, but she waved him off..</div>
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'don't worry, Parker. it's just a little one. Completely unperturbed, Lyra stood right on the little bomb'</div>
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'boom!' she said and hopped in the air just a little. The stepping off while dusting her hands off</div>
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'there, that's better.'</div>
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This place was too much for me. We had to go. It was fun to see Wyatt and Ethan throwing rocks at this big water tank, though, It made this reverberating spacey sound when the rocks actually made contact. </div>
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Goodbye bomb infested burning park. </div>
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ok, so it was a cuter story in my head than in practice. It was fun playing fireman with cousins, though. </div>
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Esther - im super man - runs off making the wind sound with one elbow high in the air</div>
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Esther crawling off the trampoline when she realized no one else would go get Ethan's ball for him that he had thrown into the bushes.walking over the sharp miserable rocks, getting me to pull the ball out of the high bush and then faithfully walking the ball back over to Ethan.</div>
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Parker running back to me when he realized that 'it is more safe to stay close to mom' and then monitoring Lyra to remind her when she was too far from me</div>
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Parker screaming 'mom! mom!; his tone told me that something was seriously wrong. I put him and his bottle down and left him screaming as I tore out to see what was wrong. Parker was clinging to Ethan's legs while the rest of ethan hung dangling off the edge of the trampoline, his head aiming directly towards the dirt and sharp rocks below. 'Mom! save Ethan!' Ethan was screaming and scrambling to hold on to something off the side of the trampoline. Ethan definitely would have fallen and bled had Parker not desperately held to the bits of ankle and leg he had caught before Ethan tumbled off completely.</div>
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Lyra running clear across the room 'I got it! I got it!' when esther asked for someone to blow on her oatmeal. </div>
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Ethan jumping out of the car while I was loading everyone in 'ethan, where are you going? we need to go!' 'Go get isaac a toy; he's crying' Yeah, I let him get the toy. What a sweet little guy. </div>
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Esther loves lyra and wanted to sit in the seat next to her, Ethan was already there. Lyra coached her though 'Esther, say ' may I have that seat please Ethan' Esther obediently repeated what Lyra had said and Ethan cheerily said ok, hopped out of the seat and let Esther have it. This is just after they had been fighting over it. </div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-75809636751012549262015-04-20T01:09:00.000-07:002015-04-20T01:09:20.820-07:00As the most awesome birthday gift ever, Chris sent me to a bed and breakfast with Jessica. It was one of the tender mercies he has extended me in the last few months. Another was when I came home and found two bottles of white wine sitting on the kitchen counter. I am not sure if you know this, but in Utah they only sell beer in grocery stores. If you want anything else, you have to go in to a special liquor store. That was never going to happen toeing my little group behind me. So all that cooking with wine was over for me. I am embarrassed to say how much that bothered me. I love cooking with white wine. White wine and parsnips. Delicious. Everything is better after having been deglazed with white wine. I couldn't get it any more and not like my cooking is spectacular to begin with, but there was even less love in those dishes. So when I walked in and saw that white wine sitting there on the counter, it was like seeing mercy and Chris-love in a bottle. That's from someone who doesn't drink.<br />
<br />
It is probably a really good thing I don't drink. By now I would probably be downing gin every night. I have never even smelled gin, but I have vague memories of Grandma Brown missing its taste in her tea or something. Or maybe that was rum. Anyway, if you could put it in a teacup and drink it down proud with your pinkie in the air, well now, that's my kind of spunky drink. And that leads me back to the bed and breakfast.<br />
<br />
It was really sweet and Jessica even arranged for us to have high tea. We didn't know what that was, exactly, but it sounded like something we should try at least once. Just so you all know, high tea is basically what you imagine a tea party being. It was lovely: cucumber sandwiches, a bowl of berries, little pots of jellies and butter to lather on scones, some chamomile tea in a very flowery teapot. Everything matched. We even had lace napkins. It was perfectly quaint. After high tea we took a 'jaunt' down some abandoned train tracks and looked at the blooming dogwoods and fields of running horses. It really was like out of a dream.<br />
<br />
Had my middle school self seen me then... Well, I probably would have been disappointed by how small my chest still was, but I would have forgiven myself when I saw the clawed tub full of bubbles on our bathroom. Jessica loves me. She even found special Epsom salts for my aching feet. I had already taken a bath, and so we put Jessica in the bubbles (which was just as concealing and modest as they make it in the moves... see, some things you see in the movies can be real). We didn't have a wash bowl in the room. I really should speak to the maid about that. I suppose the modern plumbing made it a little redundant. But I had nowhere to soak my feet, so we emptied out the trashcan and filled that puppy full of lavender Epsom salts. Believe it or not, my feet have actually been a lot better since. Now that I think of it, I really should do that more often. I probably don't because, as I mentioned before, I don't have a proper washing basin. Sigh.* The trials of modernity.<br />
<br />
Anyway, it was lovely. I had forgotten how soft and peaceful it was. I am really glad I thought to write about it. Jessica and I spent the next morning laughing with the other breakfast guests. In fact, the woman serving commented on how the laughter was so loud that surely it sounded like dinner... and didn't even need alcohol. I think the story of the morning was when Jessica shared a time when her father-in-law had used JB welds (a construction glue) to put a tooth back in. It was good company. Well, I was with Jessica. What more good company do you need?<br />
<br />
To commemorate the fine time we hunted down an old antique shop, three stories high stuffed with beautiful old things. Most antique stores read like a stuffed garage sell in some old smelly house, but this place was beautifully prepared. The upper story was more raw, but it still had history books open to pages displaying the very 1800's furniture that we were looking at. We were actually after a tea cup as a keepsake, but I wasn't willing to spend $150 on a beautiful tea cup and I didn't want the hideous little thing that was $25 but it was a good time anyhow.<br />
<br />
Sitting here at home it is a little weird to think that I was there. That it only happened a little over a week ago, I think that in the moment I was still a little numb from being home and by the time I had landed in the Las Vegas airport I realized that it was already over and that I would have to go back. I realized that I hadn't brought any thing home for anyone except for Chris (I play favorites like that). So I stalled, finding a shirt for Lyra and some candy for the other kids there in the airport. I paid a stupid price, but the time bought was worth it. I found the car, got in, headed home, decided to get some gas and then kept hesitating as I pulled away. I almost turned around right there on the on ramp to go back and maybe get some dinner. Anything.<br />
<br />
I didn't. Chris knew I was coming and had spent the entire weekend with kids violently throwing up on him, Grandma and Grandpa. He was entitled to a break. I am glad that I hadn't waited much longer. Uh actually, glad is not the right word, but it was a good thing. I walked in the door at about 12 am. Esther was crying in bed so I went to go comfort her and not five minutes after my arrival, I had vomit down the front of my shirt. Even throwing up and with a face crusted in boogers and hair matted with ... something, she was beautiful. Chris came in then, with an expression of deep exhaustion and relief. I told him to go back to bed while I cleaned up Esther.<br />
<br />
Instead, after finishing up with Esther, I found him on the toilet, so very unhappy. I had just thought to go get him some Pepto bismol when, in a blink, there was suddenly well chewed ramin vomit piling up on the floor and splashing onto the surrounding walls. Not 20 minutes after my arrival I was literally shoveling stomach bile and ramin vomit into a bowl with a dust pan. And so the night went on. Ethan then Esther again, then Someone with nightmares then Isaac gagging and coughing up unreal amounts of formula.<br />
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To Chris' credit, he had already survived two similar nights, solo. The next day he took off work to continue to fill the toilet and I took the kids. Each still throwing up in turn - Parker, then Ethan then Esther then Ethan then Isaac. It occurred to me that I should just stop giving them more ammunition but then, they already looked dehydrated. Chris was a little better by the next day and worked from home, courageously helping in the kitchen in the evening. He was exceptionally kind and even apologetic about everything and it was weird because this was no harder than it usually was. I guess the throwup added a bit of a twist, but the kids had been constantly and seriously ill since we moved here. Parker when his lips were turning blue because he couldn't breathe, then extremely bad ear infections in both Issac and Ethan. Esther was diagnosed with bronchitis. She would cough and cry through the nights. Then Isaac had another ear infection. Anyway, I was thankful that he was so sympathetic, but seriously confused because again, this was not harder than it had been before. <br />
<br />
When I started throwing up Tuesday night it then occurred to me that I was not going to get a sick day. That Chris had a very important meeting with board members and absolutely could not come home early or even for lunch. I was on my own, no matter what. Chris got up with the kids in the morning, but he had to leave early for said meeting and he handed me the baby. He needed changing and I remember setting him down on the table and then being so dizzy that I had to crouch down or faint. I left a hand on that squirming baby (I swear he has a death wish) and cried faintly for Chris. It was as loud as I could muster, but I know it must have been soft, because he didn't hear me and a few min later the door closed and that was it. Alone. <br />
<br />
The baby had to be changed. Parker hadn't thrown up in a day so he and Lyra needed feeding and dressing (please, they are still only 5) and to be taken to the joke of a school here for a whoppin' 2 and 1/2 hours. I would have skipped it, but if they built up too many absences they didn't get to go to the pool party at the end of the year. Ethan and Esther needed to be wrestled into their car seats. Isaac needed to be stuffed into his and carried out. And all without getting too much throw up on the car. I didn't feed the younger twins till we got home. They weren't hungry anyway. Chris called me at about 3 to see how it was going. He found out that we didn't even have sick time TV going because I couldn't find a single live battery in the house to power the remotes to the wii. That good man snuck out to buy and bring me batteries. We only live about five minutes from work, so it wasn't a huge trespass to sneak out, drop them off and sneak back. But it was still really sweet.<br />
<br />
Honestly by that point I didn't care if there was TV. I had hauled those sick kids to the store to get Tylenol (I only discovered the battery situation after the trip) and back. It was all they or I had in us. They just cried. They took turns, so it wasn't too much of a burden on any one. They cried and cried. Ethan wasn't keeping fluids down at all, Esther was only doing a little better and Isaac was not to be left behind so he cried and cried and cried. And yet... somehow it seemed the same. <br />
<br />
I was still alone, walking on feet and knees that were giving out and ached with every step. Still holding two crying, sick babies. Still doing laundry and dishes. Still sick. Alone. <br />
<br />
That night after Chris came home from work I took Ethan to Insta care, because the nurse I had spoken with on the phone told me that I should not worry unless someone had been 8 hours without a wet diaper. Ethan wasn't quite that, but to be safe I took him in. I was then treated like a completely idiotic and negligent mother. I insisted that he only needed a prescription for throw up medicine and he would be fine, but they scoffed and told me that I must go the the ER immediately 'come back when you have an itty ear infection or something' the nurse said as a farewell. $250 later and after being patronized and belittled, after no one would give my thirsty kid a drink, even though he was there because of dehydration. After they had wrestled an IV into his little arm while ignoring my explanation that he just needed something simple, like zofran. After drawing thick blood from him and after some child psychologist told me how I should hold my kid now because he was sad. After they then realized that he didn't have some crazy thing and, like I had said, just needed zofran to calm his raw stomach. After the dr sat there explaining to me how to use Tylonol. After all that, I pulled into the Walgreens just in the nick of time to get that wretched zofran. Poor miserable little Ethan.<br />
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It was another long night of changing sheets and wiping vomit from hands and faces. Ethan was a little better thanks to the Zofran and the next day I started giving it to Esther, too. The throw up was still flowing strong, in spite of the zofran by the next day. Partially because Ethan patently refused any medicine at that point. Force feeding can only get so much down. And Esther had begun to do the same. Isaac's eyes were sealed shut with puss. Esther would not move from her bed. I called and set up an appointment for four of the five kids for Friday. It was about this time that my own pressure headache had begun to be dizzying. And I snapped. <br />
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I survived this day and still I am here. Homework, bedtime, dinner, getting the kids to eat dinner, laundry always more throw up laundry. I broke. Kids were still not in bed by then and it was 8:30 pm. If I didn't get them there, sick as I was, it still wasn't going to happen. Alone. I was alone. Still.<br />
<br />
Chris could see the rage in my voice and helped Lyra when she started crying in bed because we hadn't done the full scripture and story - they were jumping and yelling. I was not prepared to wrestle with them. I don't think Chris could figure out what had happened. One moment everything was fine and the next I was a raving hysterical mess, stuffing dishes into the dishwasher - it wasn't going to get done unless I did it. Chris finally convinced me to just go to bed. That night he arranged for me to sleep the next two nights in a hotel. He also took the first wave of kids nighttime throw up. And tidied the house.<br />
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The saga should be over. That is how it should end. And yet there is always more. Next day I was cleaning more explosive vomit out of the couch. I was literally pinning Ethan down and shoving my fingers in his mouth so he couldn't spit out the medicine I was trying to give him. That day the Dr confirmed that everyone had, indeed, been sick, prescribed more zofran for all, diagnosed severe ear infections in the three babies, one of whom was to go get tubes in his ears. And decided that Parker was not, in fact, showing signs of asthma. That his struggle for oxygen was due to some sort of bacteria, and then a whole new gambit of drugs were ordered. Seriously, I have funded the entire college tuition of that pharmacist's kids. <br />
<br />
Bless Chris for sending me off to the hotel because I then spent my entire time there downing cold medicines to control the mounting pressure behind my own ears. I still managed to get a few errands done, but I could only manage an hour before I was dragging myself through Smiths with bottles of water and cold medicine. The memory is hazy. All I remember is at 2:30 I checked out with the intention of going to that noxious insta-care with an 'itty' ear infection of my own. I didn't know the hours for those places, though and was not willing to pay another $250 to take my chances with the ER. So I came home and rocked a writhing baby so that Chris could get a little sleep out of the rest of the night. I was not going to sleep. I couldn't tip my head without an excruciating pressure headache. <br />
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And now, here I am. Sunday night... or actually more Monday morning 2am typing this out. Partly because it is still painful to put my head down... but also partly because if I go to sleep, the whole week starts anew. <br />
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<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-30596194730758127602015-03-04T22:16:00.001-08:002016-03-04T23:02:47.332-08:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvW2TF-7o_gTDNhJmOEykEK7MOFRE1XRhtzG3tC0x9dnpU-kmPOYaQcY8VwNZpIDrnBh_jPQH5-WOXBdSUvhjvcdsOapSkaOTJ2hVMy3hyMK1w7XvS7f_Dlcu6iX_ONx8LDmpC8UT8-A/s1600/ldf790545-m0xd-w640_h480_q80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvW2TF-7o_gTDNhJmOEykEK7MOFRE1XRhtzG3tC0x9dnpU-kmPOYaQcY8VwNZpIDrnBh_jPQH5-WOXBdSUvhjvcdsOapSkaOTJ2hVMy3hyMK1w7XvS7f_Dlcu6iX_ONx8LDmpC8UT8-A/s1600/ldf790545-m0xd-w640_h480_q80.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So we left here...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXL_SKc2rAOcgMSjeNvbrUnbJfIvR_0-7x5StS-5fivSfTUTBQ6TF61PnFH-i44w3k0XI6U2TZmaCK8jbiHHq6hWT9fmOGnziPYjoMoIE7vaTXkXNYpmEV77EIKVKAUOmSyaEiMvCwObk/s1600/images+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXL_SKc2rAOcgMSjeNvbrUnbJfIvR_0-7x5StS-5fivSfTUTBQ6TF61PnFH-i44w3k0XI6U2TZmaCK8jbiHHq6hWT9fmOGnziPYjoMoIE7vaTXkXNYpmEV77EIKVKAUOmSyaEiMvCwObk/s1600/images+(1).jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and moved to here.</td></tr>
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<span class="il" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">December</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> was a blur of home improvement chores and constant demands that we move sooner and sooner. By the time Chris had his offer from Steton, we had three weeks total for the move from offer date to first day of work. And to top it off, Christmas was right smack in the middle of those weeks. I remember Chris talking to me in the car and running the latest suggestion by HP that we leave even a week earlier so that Chris could work for them for a week from Utah and we could use the scant Christmas vacation to actually drive out to Utah. Sell the house and move everything and everyone in two weeks. Like it was a big deal or something. </span><br />
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Well, we moved in Three. After a Christmas vacation, void if traditions (Our Christmas tree was on the curb the day of Christmas.) and full of dodging in and out of our house for viewings, we had a deal on our house in the works when we left. But, of course, it fell through once we got here. I am so grateful that we were able to spend some time in Provo and take a deep breath before taking on St George. And OH St George. You never knew how lazy you were until you moved to St George. All of the kids were angry, confused, cranky. mad.and sick in turns. We found out that, even thought Steton promised health care, they failed to mention that it wouldn't be in effect till the first of March. It was about that time that I ran Parker to the Emergency room because he was suffocating. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0uoD5XX0pWCFYJS1-BkFbfDqajOMMKjb_7LfgN-lpUWA1VIHaXXEqWrjuQmamMNPOacXpaIanEeH5yi56YrtEW3ZAnT2HVFoAUuUtoLpSOSQGX92lBlI3w9aaofXueNL-Fjx4fBtlQM/s1600/Family+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0uoD5XX0pWCFYJS1-BkFbfDqajOMMKjb_7LfgN-lpUWA1VIHaXXEqWrjuQmamMNPOacXpaIanEeH5yi56YrtEW3ZAnT2HVFoAUuUtoLpSOSQGX92lBlI3w9aaofXueNL-Fjx4fBtlQM/s1600/Family+Picture.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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No, really, he couldn't breathe. His lips and the tips of his ears and fingers were bluing before anyone would deign to see the insurance-less suffocating boy in the emergency room. Once we were in there, Parker could hardly open his eyes. The nurse panicked and they brought the dr in who instantly put some breathing aid on him. Thankfully he perked up immediately and they decided not to send him to a higher intensive care unit.</div>
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Then there was the school fiasco. Lyra and Parker came home from school the first day and started to play cannibals. Complete with the screaming victim who would be the meal for the rest of the starving people. Then a few days later Parker wanted to know how babies were made. No, but HOW? We focused on fetal development. He seemed distracted, if not satisfied. It did make for an interesting discussion on Adam and Eve. Initially he wanted to know that if everyone was a baby first, that at some point a baby had to have had a baby. After hearing that Adam and Eve were adults from the start, he discounted it immediately because two people could not possibly make so many babies. Or so he thought, until we started on the hypothetical pedigree chart. All the kids thought that was pretty awesome by the time we were making 200 dots for each baby. Anyway, inspite of the great opportunities for talking about the gospel, School here is only two and a half hours. That is almost not long enough to load all the kids in the car, unload them, load them and then unload them again. No, for real. And then Parker started refusing to do basic things like brushing his hair 'that is what girls do' Dad- 'no it's not, I brush my hair, do I do girl things?' Parker-'yes, all the time. It's embarrassing.' That was more amusing than anything but then he began to refuse to read. Or write. A big deal for him. He loves to do both. </div>
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Not only was Parker having a rough time, but I was really struggling to wrestle wit so many deeply unhappy kids. Isaac was teething big time, so I had him in arm literally all day. I have a muscle specifically developed from holding him in my left arm so much. Chris mentioned that he was starving one Saturday at about lunch time and I was a little confused. And then I realized... I only eat dinner because I always have at least two, usually three, demanding and unhappy children on hand at any given moment. I was changing severe diarrhea diapers and diapers with poo dyed green and blue because of the one cupcake I gave them that one time. I was cleaning up vomit and spitup and then more vomit. I was feeding them, and then feeding the others who just got home and then trying to engage them in homework that had notes attached telling me that I needed to teach them this and that. I was slowly unpacking the boxes that still clung to the corners of every room. I had a washer that was slowly migrating around the Laundry room because the slate on the floor was too uneven for the spin part of the cycle. I had our Realtor calling and texting about forms that we needed to sign and how the house needed to be maintained now that it was vacant. I was calling and canceling the cancellations on our electricity and gas and water, which take longer when you can't her why you are being put on hold again because of the kid clinging to your legs and crying because you can't do any number of things. I had kids playing in the dirt and rocks that were now the backyard. Lyra was crying about how there were no flowers. There are no flowers in St George. </div>
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It is funny to me now that the flower thing is what actually got to me. Chris suggested we try to put the older kids in some program that had the older kids in school all day. It was a good idea. Parker was bored and restless... he actually bit me at one point. Parker isn't naughty. So that was a surprise. Anyway We asked around and people suggested a charter school. Of course we had missed the lottery ... for next year. Too bad about that. So we looked at private schools. That was the most creepy experience ever. </div>
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I was told that we could come and do a trial day. Ok, why not? So in we went. The thing was in a converted business building and there were about fifty or so chairs set up in this big open area. Kids ages 5 - 15 assembled and began to sing 'book of Mormon stories' which was fine. But then a man got up in front and started talking. And talking. </div>
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He told a long winded story that was clearly made up on the spot about a school where no one could make choices for themselves. Where they were forced to do all their work and then if they made even one mistake they were thrown in the dungeon. And then there was another school where everyone who graduated became a CEO or a president or a bum. The people who became great were the ones who did their homework and the ones who became bums were the ones who didn't go to school or didn't do their homework and were lazy and unkind (this guy had it out for bums). Twenty minutes later he opened it up to questions. One young boy commented that it was an awful lot like the war in heaven. 'Why that is the most inspiring and thoughtful thing I have heard anyone say to me in a long time.' Finally they divided for classes. The speaker man, who seemed to think he had done a pretty awesome job up there, told me to come in to his office. He would tell me how they prayed between each topic and anything else. Uh. The guy gave me the creeps. Seriously. Creepy Zionist. He had created a little cult for himself. You should have seen it, seriously. So very creepy. </div>
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They divided and I followed Lyra and Parker to figure out if they did that every time or who their actual teacher would be. I found her, a pretty woman in her late twenties. Watching her with that class it wasn't ten minutes till it was obvious that she was just some nice lady they had who was now lounging in a chair with maybe a very fragile control over the class. The kids themselves seemed helpful and kind, though. So there was something. </div>
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We went to another private school's open house that night. Yes, it is the middle of the year, but you see, one of the other private schools was going out of business and was merging with the Lutheran private school, that had church backing and so had not yet gone out of business. Lutheran was sounding really normal about now. But after visiting the rooms and talking to the teachers it was obvious that the teachers didn't want teachers from the outside coming in and that the new teachers were really struggling to be there. The new teacher that would be Lyra and Parker's teacher was really sweet and was clearly struggling not to break down after she was asked where her classroom would be- she didn't know. </div>
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The happy news is that both the private schools made the public one look fantastic, no matter how much they may come back saying 'oh my God' or cannibalizing their screaming bad guy toys. </div>
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Also Chris is so very happy at work. I guess I am venting here at all you guys because I feel like I dampen his happy glow every time I get frustrated with things. He comes home and tells me the latest thing that happened and I sit there listening, giving people nicknames from the stories he tells. At one point they were trying to invent a title for him and someone suggested 'the enabler' to which Chris replied 'oh, that makes it sound like I am selling drugs to recovering addicts.' It was generally funny, but we are in Utah now and one woman made a dry comment that it would be hard to find that here. She is now Pot lady. I have no idea what her actual name is, the nickname stuck too well. There is also baby face, the money, Tommy California, and Vinny. Yesterday we realized that at this point it sounds like Chris is working for a shady group of mafia types. 'Yeah, Babyface was looking kinda distracted. I checked with Johnny CA and Money about it, sounds like he is loosing men to Vinny.' Not an actual conversation, but you get the idea. </div>
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Meh, I will never meet any of them anyway. </div>
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Anyway, two months worth of update. Not super chipper. But you should have seen my first draft.</div>
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meh, why not? This is the start of my first draft. No one reads this stuff anyway.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I always imagined Hell with the crying suffering struggling masses burning miserably at the Devil's feet, the Devil laughing in pleasure and delight. Living here these last few weeks has given me a whole new insight into that scenario. We wake up and the first thing that greets my eyes is the computer that has been set up (somehow crookedly) on Chris's hideous childhood dresser. Then I turn over and see the mounded pile of miscelanious Salvation Army things that I have been intending to get out the door, but has somehow piled itself helplessly and endlessly higher and higher there in the corner by my bed. I realize that I had only woken because some kid had been screaming endlessly for the last 30 min. Really, I have no idea why it woke me. There is always someone screaming or crying. </span><br />
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Here I stand on my tendinitis riddled ankles awkwardly typing in my filthy room littered with discarded home sales contracts, color page printouts, still wrapped parcels and un-hung pictures. Parker is sitting right outside my door ready to pelt me with unending teary demands for piggy banks, quarters, new leap pad games, anything really. He bit me today. Parker has never bitten me. Not even when we were nursing. He is so deeply and profoundly bored with his life here. He is sullen and underwhelmed and restless. The only times when he perks up is when I have found a moment to sit with him and do some of the undone leftover worksheets his texas teacher sent home with him that last day. But I rarely get a moment when I can do that. There are four other kids. Three of whom can't talk or can only barely talk. They are unhappy too. </div>
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Today we hit about noon and I was in the babies bedroom trying to calm the younger twins into a nap (Esther had been so hysterical that she actually climbed out of her crib while yelling and screaming to come and get me) when I heard Chris tell Lyra and Parker that he had to go, that I was in the other room and would keep them safe. I had no idea where he was going so I left Ethan and Esther, who were now quiet crying on the floor with me where I had been snuggling them, to go find out what was going on. 'Sarah, I am unaccountably angry and the only thing I can think of is that I haven't eaten yet today. I am going to go get something to eat.' And I thought to myself... huh... yeah, most people have eaten by now. I sent him on his way to get something for everyone (even though the kids had all been given food that none of them had eaten) and went to help Ethan and Esther who had begun to cry in earnest again. I had Issac in my arms at this point and that bothered Ethan because I couldn't lay down with them any more. I sat there patting backs and rubbing legs. Esther sweetly began to imitate me, patting Ethans back as she lay next to him on the floor. Lyra and Parker then began to come in and out. The doors here are weirdly loud and slammed every time they peeked in .. Finally I had to leave the younger two to go address the needs of the older two... and on it went. Issac, Ethan , Esther, Lyra, and Parker breaking down in hysterical tears... and I mean hysterical. Parker would have to go and calm down in his room, Lyra would ..... Chris finally came back, better, and with food. He sat down and started eating, listening to a podcast on his phone while I ran around still getting bowls and spoons (five different spoons just for Ethan before he stopped clawing at my legs and would eat). Issac went to bed, screaming for a while... because that is just what he does now. that is just what everyone does now. it is catching and I an going to start doing it too. I ran out of beans and rice side to feed the kids who were now askign for more now that I had returned. I took a bite of the burrito that Chris had brought me and then began dishing the insides into the kids bowls. Finally, as there seemed to be a lul.. I pulled a chair up next to Chris where Chris thoughtfully paused his podcast to catch me up. I told him not to bother because it was only a matter of seconds before I was going to be on call again.. Parker came by and I fed him a few bites hollowed out of my burrito until I realized, there was nothing left to hollow out. It was a soggy tortilla. I rolled it up and ate what I could as I left Chris and his podcast to go tend to the latest break down...</div>
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And so it went. Ultimately I was going to talk about how, even though I was the author of so many of the tears (because I wouldn't let them grab and fight) I was the most miserable of all. Satin is the most miserable, he is bossing people but he is the most miserable.</div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-15317049366194480132015-03-04T21:51:00.001-08:002015-03-04T21:51:19.795-08:00November 2014<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTYJwZ0tBAyNyJQJBoJKJcQ29c12WanPXy7R3LqtUBpDBxQ8Y4zzHZhyiYIrh-VCFekPrhNkpiWYeXQFArfQmYHPu29OrO_8FyAe6SkcwulLq2_sCkJrWMR-1xxrt4XoQlg6HtOOQ6tk/s1600/Central-America-Monarchs-Photo-2-butterfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTYJwZ0tBAyNyJQJBoJKJcQ29c12WanPXy7R3LqtUBpDBxQ8Y4zzHZhyiYIrh-VCFekPrhNkpiWYeXQFArfQmYHPu29OrO_8FyAe6SkcwulLq2_sCkJrWMR-1xxrt4XoQlg6HtOOQ6tk/s1600/Central-America-Monarchs-Photo-2-butterfly.jpg" height="166" width="320" /></a>Yeah, <span class="il">November</span> ... So I found a monarch butterfly caterpillar and I sent it to school with Lyra and Parker. The teacher seemed to appreciate it but I was surprised when Lyra and Parker came home with a butterfly in a jar. I guess if it was getting cool for caterpillars, it was definitely too cold for butterfly... so what were we to do? I couldn't send this beautiful butterfly to a cold death any more than the teacher could. So I did the only reasonable, rational thing an adult could do. Lyra and Parker gathered as many of the butterfly blossoms that were left in the yard, we loaded them in vases and put them in my room. That butterfly was just going to fly laps in our house till we hit a warm spell again. I thought we would try it out in my bedroom first, just to ensure that the babies didn't eat it while it was still testing out its wings. Well, the kids thought it was awesome. Lyra and Parker went in there to watch it flutter around almost the rest of the day. Once it landed on Lyra and I had told her not to touch it so when it landed on her she didn't know what to do and it sat there walking up and down her arm till I heard her softly crying. The butterfly had rough feet and it was just scaring her, but she was obediently waiting for it to leave by itself so that she wouldn't hurt it by touching it. I was really proud of her, but swiped the thing off. No one makes my kid cry. humph. </div>
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The butterfly startled Chris when he first walked into the room, but thankfully, It seemed content to 'sleep' once it got darker in the room. Do butterfly's sleep? Chris probably has an awesome youtube video on that. The next day I noticed that the butterfly spent almost all it's time crawling on the drapes over the windows, instead of on the many vases of flowers about the room so I thought I would give the room more real sunlight and opened the drapes. The butterfly flew across the room at full speed, right into the window pane. ops. After that, it was all down hill. The thing flopped about and couldn't pull it's tong in.. It was going to die, and soon. So, as what I hoped was a humane gesture, I took it outside. At least it's last few breaths could be open free air... the cold would give it a quicker death, too. Later that day when I had to explain what had happened, Lyra took it as a matter of fact, but Parker went to sit by himself. I walked over to visit with him and he ended up in my lap, crying for the fallen butterfly. </div>
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I sat there trying to explain that Heavenly father would be sure to take good care of it (hoping that the general wording would comfort, but not propose shady doctrine). But Parker was still upset. Finally I proposed that we say a prayer to help him feel better about it. He agreed and asked me to say it. I did and, with a silent prayer in my heart that heavenly father would give Parker something he would realize as an answer, we sat there rocking back and forth in the rocking chair for a few moments. Parker silently slipped out of my lap. He started to walk around a bit and then played and suddenly looked into his hands and then up at me with the most intense joy and excitement. I asked him if he felt better and he stood there, almost frozen with excited energy. "Yeah!" he said. "Well, then, we had better tell Heavenly father thank you." Parker said a characteristically frank and honest report to Heavenly father of his current state right there on his feet and then frolicked and jumped his little self right out of the room. I was so very grateful that both my prayers were answered. He probably won't remember that specific instance, but with any luck it will be the first in a long series of events that will help him develop a solid and mature relationship with God. I hope so. Last week Parker also asked me with a frank confusion why his eyes were making tears when he wasn't sad. I asked him when that had happened and he explained that it had happened at church. I then asked him if he had been feeling good or happy at the time, and he confirmed that he had. And I again got to explain that it was how Heavenly Father helps us to know he loves us, by sending the holy ghost to sometimes help us feel how he loves us. Hopefully it was actually that, and not, you know, tear gas or just gas or heaven knows what else it could have been. Oh, and a fun continuation of the butterfly story, the butterfly weed that we had picked and put in my room had developed a Caterpillar before I had managed to throw it out. A butterfly must had laid eggs on that particular stalk. Well, cant let that beautiful green and black thing out in the cold... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaw7ymtSkyKCYX7bzVnjeoPuw64-VQGn4JGig98UUvt-N8ihhSlnk81L-oZYI6J74U21_CNcUCksIr8CBHz3YGS8AtLRAaPqHgHC1Ra56YGK91x4El3ZibXvxJZYuH0Pu9jjvpUkpfLxA/s1600/milkweed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaw7ymtSkyKCYX7bzVnjeoPuw64-VQGn4JGig98UUvt-N8ihhSlnk81L-oZYI6J74U21_CNcUCksIr8CBHz3YGS8AtLRAaPqHgHC1Ra56YGK91x4El3ZibXvxJZYuH0Pu9jjvpUkpfLxA/s1600/milkweed.jpg" height="183" width="200" /></a>I remember one morning, I looked at that milkweed and also saw that the green pods on it were dried and had begun to peel back, revealing soft, huge dandelion fluffs. You know, like when you blow a dandelion that has a full white round head. You blow it, and puff. All those beautiful seeds go wafting around on tiny white umbrellas. This was just like that, except they were white stars, the size of a baby's curled hand. I actually discovered them one morning while the kids were all sitting at the table waiting for breakfast. It was a memorable scene. The house was clean, they all sat around that lovely wooden table under that the golden glow of the Edison bulbs hung in the kitchen table fixture. There was soft, violet sunrise filtering in through the gauzy kitchen curtains, gently illuminating the bright morning faces framed with shimmering bed head curls. I blew a few feathery stars over the table and the kids quietly giggled as they, in turn, puffed to make the little stars spin and dance in the air around them. It was so peaceful. So beautiful and pristine in it's own way. </div>
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Obviously it was a beautiful, vivid moment that will never quite translate. Anyway, I did leave the butterfly in the house and kept him in a vase of flowers on my kitchen counter. He was actually really good company while Chris was away. I would do dishes at night and watch him much on the leaves. I named him Frank. Eventually when Frank got really good and fat, I had to put him in a jar instead of just having him out. I didn't want little Frankie to pupate somewhere randomly in the house. That and you didn't know this, but caterpillars actually make a LOT of poop and I was tired of wiping it off the counter. The jar is now outside, on the porch and I am going to tack the lid to the underside of a fence post. The cold will keep him inside the cocoon till it warms up a bit and then he can have plenty of room to dry his wings when he does come out. </div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-28963855001962859962014-11-13T10:27:00.003-08:002014-11-13T10:27:46.098-08:00Oct 2014<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;">Man things got crazy real fast after October. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimz7EBooMDZzi8hq1sFDcFmQ2Ek9B_n7kKwmgyHBw7JbtPjGETJ10RvOLeCXJAXhE6d0Stfpk-3KvFCxnP1jejXtU3X_9sxoID4EBTmjEfkZ5nHOXnxfPeCEcFxTxq1_U1bxQw4kGkJ9I/s1600/Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimz7EBooMDZzi8hq1sFDcFmQ2Ek9B_n7kKwmgyHBw7JbtPjGETJ10RvOLeCXJAXhE6d0Stfpk-3KvFCxnP1jejXtU3X_9sxoID4EBTmjEfkZ5nHOXnxfPeCEcFxTxq1_U1bxQw4kGkJ9I/s320/Halloween.jpg" width="320" /></a>Halloween was fun here, but in a mellow way. Lyra and Parker wanted to carve pumpkins the minute someone breathed the word Halloween. We carved them probably before anyone else did. And when ours were the moldiest, on Halloween, Parker proudly announced that Jack the pumpkin king was going to come for those ones first. Ethan and Esther had a very different reaction to Halloween than my first two did. </div>
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Parker, dressed as a dragon, had run excitedly through the streets chanting 'more candy more candy!' to himself while his squeaky shoes cheered him on. Contrast to Ethan, now at that same age, would not put on a costume. He would not even entertain the simple cape Chris tried to get him to wear. Nope, he just wanted to wear his soccer ball shirt, and carry his own frog trick-or-treat bag. And he did. That thing got heavy, too. You could tell it was more than he could handle when he started using his leg to heft it along. No matter how heavy, though, he would not, under any circumstances, sit in the wagon or let someone help him. That was for infants and the weak.</div>
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Esther, on the other hand, went to one house, got a lollipop and sat blissfully in the wagon, sucking it down the rest of the night. We offered her one of Lyra's smaller dress up dresses, but she had found this pirate shirt and had decided that it was the one for her. Meh. it suited her. She was a relentless tease and the strawberry shortcake dress just looked odd on her mischievous little self. So there she was, a little pirate rolling along as she watched almost all of her siblings trudge from house to house. Maybe she had a feeling that at the end of the night everyone would be sharing all that booty anyway. She would have been right. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdbfSAZHc1rquP_8UHapcBzN2uH2afRvt3vz286ONodo7haWzRaYTxgJ-VljAmJKK1XWALY_qlbphE31gB2reoF8QY3eyNib12boFzRQJ_OBc_HYl_xxaULelVU-4UVbqioj_O8YS-JJ0/s1600/IMG_3527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdbfSAZHc1rquP_8UHapcBzN2uH2afRvt3vz286ONodo7haWzRaYTxgJ-VljAmJKK1XWALY_qlbphE31gB2reoF8QY3eyNib12boFzRQJ_OBc_HYl_xxaULelVU-4UVbqioj_O8YS-JJ0/s320/IMG_3527.JPG" width="180" /></a>I love that the kids share intuitively at this point. Love it. The first time we took Lyra and Parker trick or treating they misunderstood what was happening and after when we sat in our driveway to pass out our bowl of candy, Lyra and Parker started handing out the candy in their own bags too. They still do that now. I think it is Parker's favorite part. Someone gave him a little maze with those little balls in it and he sat there explaining to a teenage girl how to use it; he didn't want her to misunderstand how to properly play. Lyra was admittedly less into it this year. She was very in to the next morning activity, though. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsg5uLTxW7CuUOjS69I2yTAQZLtBcg_2_2y_4fMh2JrSmVRwOsUrpRQnBgyWXPwjDp0ygdwR4G-hZaLtxSMIonY_6SucRUf1pGfm4qx6vbwx44bAZR3sGNCFfhBC66sb4vy-j0JBgftM/s1600/IMG_3518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsg5uLTxW7CuUOjS69I2yTAQZLtBcg_2_2y_4fMh2JrSmVRwOsUrpRQnBgyWXPwjDp0ygdwR4G-hZaLtxSMIonY_6SucRUf1pGfm4qx6vbwx44bAZR3sGNCFfhBC66sb4vy-j0JBgftM/s320/IMG_3518.JPG" width="180" /></a>I have a neighbor who suggested ways for kids to serve and one was picking up Halloween trash the next morning. Everyone accidentally drops trash once it starts getting dark. So the next morning we all got up, bundled up and set out. Lyra thought it was an awesome competition, Parker found unused fireworks and a pretend grenade and Ethan dutifully put even the unopened street candy in the trash bag I was carrying. He was not getting in the wagon; that was for babies. Esther helped here and there, but again, mostly let Dad pull her along as she supervised and stayed warm. </div>
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There you are, October in a nutshell, really the entire month is about Halloween. Just like we only have November to celebrate Thanksgiving and December to celebrate Christmas.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgclE0J6Zl0esRLjaJru3jje-zwp8eR-ND5Tsw5Yc6TO37Ks9k-T333kHFdsYHpujWJ4evH3zGZ98G_GDShsIa0kEh6QU6eefAoXLFbPMcjENl4eHTCMKc5zRcITPukJzjh_o_qQqFvx48/s1600/IMG_3489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgclE0J6Zl0esRLjaJru3jje-zwp8eR-ND5Tsw5Yc6TO37Ks9k-T333kHFdsYHpujWJ4evH3zGZ98G_GDShsIa0kEh6QU6eefAoXLFbPMcjENl4eHTCMKc5zRcITPukJzjh_o_qQqFvx48/s200/IMG_3489.JPG" width="200" /></a>I guess that gives you the kids for the month Chris can do his own bit. I basically double with the kids. oh, just two more things. we were doing family home evening and asked the kids what the bread and water in church were for. Lyra said 'oh! you mean the snack-rament?!' Chris and I laughed for a long while over that one. I asked Parker what he thought of Jesus and he said 'well, yeah, I like Jesus. He's a pretty cool guy.' Well said, Parker. Well said. </div>
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Oh, and Isaac is adorable. He smiles, then talks, then smiles, then talks, then laughs, then talks and smiles. It was a real shocker when he didn't one day. I think we have teeth. When I rubbed his lower gum line he, mid scream, started laughing and smiling. He has giant round beautiful eyes, too. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsNT0x1T9-w2BgZ1QXcUm5AjcYI9L2BsMDGuTch-Cza1aifc7PnOZheDdBrllAmH5aziPfBvwksu6QYmyo5YAGn3kEs1m4_cNy0eIke4SIeKLT_ftsXAXMHV-Vc-dIqmkHzU3iFv7rTcA/s1600/IMG_3513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsNT0x1T9-w2BgZ1QXcUm5AjcYI9L2BsMDGuTch-Cza1aifc7PnOZheDdBrllAmH5aziPfBvwksu6QYmyo5YAGn3kEs1m4_cNy0eIke4SIeKLT_ftsXAXMHV-Vc-dIqmkHzU3iFv7rTcA/s320/IMG_3513.JPG" width="320" /></a>Chris has a lot going on right now. He has made some big contributions at work and now they have him traveling all over. That will teach him to perform well. I am glad that he is finding success and that people are appreciating his significant contributions. We miss him, though. He is also interviewing here and there. That is generating some travel, too. While he is gone the kids spend all day writing him letters, wrapping home made presents for him and drawing pictures to tack to the walls to surprise him when he gets back. Each night we review scriptures, say prayers and then haggle with mom over how many sleeps left till he gets home. He really is the sunshine in our family.<br />
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-29331432706280131632014-10-16T16:56:00.001-07:002014-10-17T10:18:08.941-07:00catching up Oct 2014<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin: 0px;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">I would take the class. What do I do to stay sane? Gen authorities told us to have at least two hobbies outside our motherhood, so uh, if you need any more endorsement, there it is. I garden and ... I guess I just garden. I suppose I ought to add another hobby. It would be awesome if you did the photography class. I'd totally be jealous. Someday I would really like to do that. And some cooking classes. I spent the morning at my visiting teach-ees house. She is an amazing cook and she was showing me all sorts of tricks. We might be getting a food processor. Yeah, I know, we make big, sudden changes over here :). But seriously, who thought to shred your chicken by tossing a couple cooked chicken breasts in your Kitchen-aid and letting the beaters shred it for you? Blew my mind. Almost as much as finding out that there are no real nutritional benefits to milk for anyone over the age of 2 - it is just another sugary drink, ladies. And you probably all knew that already. But throwing milk in the same category as powdered <wbr style="margin: 0px;"></wbr>lemon aid or soda has seriously rocked my world. Here is the movie that finally did it ( <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzyFZcuHmeI" style="margin: 0px;" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/<wbr style="margin: 0px;"></wbr>watch?v=hzyFZcuHmeI</a> )</span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> But I guess it is ok... I found out how few calories are in a can of tuna. So I lost milk and gained .. tuna? Whatever. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">And as to when does it get easier? I don't know. I think it gets easier when it has been harder for a while? And then you get to look back and think about how much greener it was on the other side? I don't think there is ever an easier. You just trade in one hard for a different kind of hard. At least it switches up so you don't get bored. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Chris --</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;">I taught seminary this week - it was on the Fall of Adam. We did the Marshmallow Challenge (</span><a href="http://marshmallowchallenge.com/" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;" target="_blank">marshmallowchallenge.com</a><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px;">). Basically you give them 18 minutes to build the tallest free-standing structure out of dried spaghetti and tape that can hold a marshmallow. The interesting part of this lesson who does well and who does poorly. It turns out that kindergarteners do much better than lawyers and business school students at building the structures. This is because b-school students have a single plan and they try to execute it perfectly . . . . and this often leads to disaster. Kindergarteners try a bunch of things - some fail and some succeed - and then they keep trying. The point here is that some people believe the church is about people being perfect - planning perfect lives, never making mistakes - but that is an exactly wrong and dangerous philosophy. God gave us agency so that we could fail, get back up, repent and learn. The people that make it into heaven are not the people who lived perfect lives - they are the people that repented again and again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Issac - has a dirty mouth; he keeps giving me infections. Also, he's constipated. one night he was so mad and tired from trying to poo that Chris got up at three, took Issac and let me sleep while he drove through construction traffic trying to find an open store that sold suppositories (I thought we had more, but the bottle was empty.. nooooooo!). But it's all ok because usually if you talk to him at all, he will start laughing and grinning. He's super ticklish, too.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Esther - Is so fun. She is quirky in an endearing fun kinda way. She has an easy beautiful laugh that sometimes becomes a mischievous cackle. She scrunches her nose and grins when she is teasing you. She gives the most satisfying, warm snuggle hugs ever. She ADORES Chris. Right now she is upstairs in her bed screaming because I would not let her eat a cup full of sprinkles for dinner. She and Ethan are good friends and share with each other readily. Often when I am holding Isaac, she will come and reach for him saying 'hugs hugs!' and I will lower Isaac and she will give him a big, tender hug. And then she will run off, pumping her arms like she is in some big marathon with her little round bum wiggling and running almost independent of her body. It sounds weird, but it is absolutely adorable.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Ethan - Insists on doing whatever it is that the older two are doing. If Parker stops to talk to the cross guard, well then by golly, Ethan is going to talk to that cross guard, too. No one knows what he is saying, but he is sure it is every bit as important as what Parker was saying. If Lyra gets a hug, Ethan is going to get one, too. Even if it is from someone who is a complete stranger to him.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Parker - Is so gentle and kind to the younger kids. He makes games for them, he puts up with them crawling on him and wrestling with him. Once Ethan did something that hurt Parker. When I tried to tell Ethan to stop an apologize, Parker said it was ok, that Ethan didn't know and didn't mean it. We also did Parent teacher meetings and his teacher was funny. Apparently he sees things very differently. And sometimes it is problematic but apparently it has blown her mind a few times. Which was funny to watch. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Lyra - Has figured out that if she makes a chart to stop any given habit, then at the end she can probably get a good deal of the things she wants. So, when she wanted a kite, she made a bubble chart, with the picture of a kite at the bottom. 'Mommy, when I fill in all the bubbles, I get a kite, ok?' And the funny thing is, she is right. You stop picking your nose or forgetting to flush the toilet or whatever, for 17 days in a row, I will get you a kite. Lyra has a hard time getting to sleep at night. Often she won't fall asleep till ten. Sometimes if Chris or I go in there to snuggle with her she will fall asleep closer to nine. Once I could hear Chris coming to see how it was going with her so I told her to pretend we were asleep. We both lay there with our eyes closed, peaceful expressions and occasionally letting out the loudest most heinous snores we could make. All three of us ended up laughing and Chris came to snuggle on the other side of Lyra. It reminded Lyra of a song she had learned and she started singing 'there was one in the bed and the little one said 'roll over'' And of course she and Chris started rolling towards me. So of course I was off. They did the song again and Lyra rolled off into my arms. Then she and I looked at each other, Lyra grinned and started singing 'there was one in the bed and then he said 'roll over'' so of course, Chris rolled off - right on top of both of us, still giggling. We are ridiculous. No wonder snuggling with her at night only helps sometimes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Chris - doing presentations to small groups of Sr vice presidents. And teaching seminary. Also, he tried to get the kids to eat a very healthy soup I had made them all by pouring sprinkles on it. SPRINKLES! So much for healthy. The kids actually gave it a try. I think they would eat poop if we put sprinkles on it. Chris has an interview tomorrow. It has been a big week for him. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Dad took some pictures while he was out here for the baby blessing. It was so kind of him.</span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px;"></span></span><br />
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-78367789142859982092014-09-17T09:44:00.002-07:002014-09-17T09:44:40.214-07:00quick quotesChris-<br />
'This is like taking a drink from the fire hose of cuteness.'<br />
'Sarah, I really appreciate how good you are at following through, I am just really glad you weren't my mom.' - I had just spent the entire evening movie time sitting with Parker, in his room, because he didn't help clean up- Parker didn't like that.<br />
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Lyra was looking and looking for her poly pocket toy and finally gave up. Later Ethan scooted up to her on his bike and, while sucking his little finger, silently handed her the poly pocket toy she had been searching for. Then without saying a word, turned his bike around and scooted away.<br />
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Ethan and Esther were both finished with their candy - one each. They both wanted more, and that was not going to happen. Lyra walked up and gave them both equal portions of her remaining chocolate candy. No fanfare. Just called them over and gave it to them.<br />
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Parker - ' Isaac loves only me. He needs to sleep with me tonight.'<br />
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Esther- says 'ohhh' sweetly every time she gives a hug. Apparently Chris and I say that often enough when she hugs us that she feels it is an integral part of hugging. Esther is so animated. Isaac will start crying and her eyes will get enormous, and she will say 'oh no! baby tying!' and then will pull at me till I go to pick him up.<br />
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I was brushing Lyra's hair this morning and she had particularly tangled hair. I didn't have time, so I just barolled through. Parker was watching and finally cried out, as if in pain 'enough! stop! no more!' apparently the look of discomfort on Lyra's face was personal. <br />
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It was delightfully overcast this weekend and so we made a fire. All four kids were thrilled. Lyra then said, 'hey, we should say a prayer' So all four kids knelt down in front of that fire, folded their arms and patiently waited as Lyra then Parker and then I (apparently I am the spokesperson for Ethan and Esther) said a prayer. It was sweet and actually, very reverent. Everyone took turns thanking heavenly father for the fire, our family and a few other more random things I can't remember.<br />
<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-27805955823334500452014-09-05T12:08:00.001-07:002014-09-06T13:57:59.958-07:00Just today<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCLzAPugD4ouPXjVuhc7neuLeZYUwAL-lT_a7Qm0No_k4Vki1XrVUK_QHs2dbrd0uin0CHzkNfv_Dim_gASZEppBZ_B1h-QuxrjEMEEu7_KAmF7J3iZjIzMOV9fj9a6b8cPGeFVcHpVQ/s1600/20140825_080525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCLzAPugD4ouPXjVuhc7neuLeZYUwAL-lT_a7Qm0No_k4Vki1XrVUK_QHs2dbrd0uin0CHzkNfv_Dim_gASZEppBZ_B1h-QuxrjEMEEu7_KAmF7J3iZjIzMOV9fj9a6b8cPGeFVcHpVQ/s1600/20140825_080525.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a><span style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">We were driving to school this morning and Parker was, once again, upset because one day we were going to die. 'But Jesus won't make us come alive again!' he complained. Again. 'Fine Parker, I am tired of arguing with you. You can put in a special request with God to <em>not</em> be resurrected when everyone else does' I replied (with less patience than I would like). He thought about that and said 'well, maybe if Jesus kills all the bad guys. And then he will fly in a rocket ship and kill the aliens!' 'I am sure he will, love. If that is what needs to happen, I am sure he will.' Getting to and from school every day is crazy, but how can you resent it when you get conversations like that?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuen20NEaybtNdi73gZNt3ZujejVs14CYXu13kVNS20btPSjzRqXWBQO1kPFDSHKuxZ2s8yTwVYIjY1dbNZdbM8tOiUkiJLe-AakT2GubH3avN7E-pE5ID28CrGNIwJLeSykwxSqH0168/s1600/20140825_075842_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuen20NEaybtNdi73gZNt3ZujejVs14CYXu13kVNS20btPSjzRqXWBQO1kPFDSHKuxZ2s8yTwVYIjY1dbNZdbM8tOiUkiJLe-AakT2GubH3avN7E-pE5ID28CrGNIwJLeSykwxSqH0168/s1600/20140825_075842_6.jpg" height="112" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">To get to school we drive to the main road and then unload everyone into wagons and baby carriers to walk about five blocks to school. To take the car in all the way is an entire hour. I am not willing to leave home an hour early every morning and sit in the car with that many unhappy kids for an hour. So we walk with baby carriers and wagons and boy do we look awesome. In fact, on the walk back to the car a cop stopped us and I was sure we were in trouble. We were in trouble for having too many kids? I didn't know, but I was sure we were going to get it. I mean, how often do you have a pleasant experience after a cop has called your attention? Fortunately he sat there for a few minutes and told me about how he had radioed in about the little kid spectacle and that the person receiving his radio call wanted a picture to prove it. Thankfully it was clear that he thought it was awesome. I am just glad that we live in Texas where people want phone pictures because it is a cool kind of unbelievable rather than an offensive one (I am sure we would be in boulder).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Another fun fact about Texas. They have their own pledge. Yes, they do. So every morning the kids all do the American pledge of allegiance and then they do the one for Texas. No stinkin' wonder everyone is so intense about this state. They have been pledging to it since kindergarten! It just struck me as bizarre, but to you it may not surprise. Did they do that in Co or Ut?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89doUzanGYylFIwFGs8MiUXfLJVm1VFGaooHtbED49xFJJ3IK_uvwGWRG0F_NcZxQN67H-VM4tttLGRn33KvclMrkNxiFpwirU9cycWTtZ1MMyHi4m24n1NdYDm_mq5Cwn0MaB6tOkUY/s1600/IMG_2308_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89doUzanGYylFIwFGs8MiUXfLJVm1VFGaooHtbED49xFJJ3IK_uvwGWRG0F_NcZxQN67H-VM4tttLGRn33KvclMrkNxiFpwirU9cycWTtZ1MMyHi4m24n1NdYDm_mq5Cwn0MaB6tOkUY/s1600/IMG_2308_edited-1.jpg" height="147" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Anyway, things are fun here. Lyra and Parker are beginning to wake up at the right time by themselves. This morning they both came in our room right at seven and stood there respectfully just inside the door, waiting. Just waiting..?.. I didn't want to get out of bed yet, and neither did Chris. So to be responsible, we invited them into bed with us and practiced raising our hands. Chris just couldn't get it right. He thought he should raise his feet when he had a question, and then demonstrated. Parker thought it was hilarious and said he had it all wrong, he needed to raise his teeth! I said that hair was the obvious thing to raise when you wanted a turn, to which Lyra started laughing hysterically. There we were, lying in bed, trying to raise various body parts, giggling and laughing. Chris finally got frustrated, raised his long legs, arms ears, nose and teeth at the same time. We finally had to stop because Isaac was crying. I really like our mornings. Chris changes the younger twins and I get the baby while he feeds everyone reheated pancakes (I make them and freeze them... seriously, whole-wheat pancakes in 1 min!). And it isn't always perfectly smooth, but between the two of us we get all the kids changed, dressed and fed in 20 min. Go teamwork! I love having Chris on my team.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsfalCvX2AYX85LHisxjWBqNWViQPCpSU8xnfvR_K1lqBPPOHEx-glWUMFHiS3aPuTpZ8Y5q8DNsbBR5xW1Jp7fAlZlTMYMkHk-Yye2VpvRSlYZE4lYtTjuLOkBujMt2vf8oIWvqJQTE/s1600/IMG_2393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsfalCvX2AYX85LHisxjWBqNWViQPCpSU8xnfvR_K1lqBPPOHEx-glWUMFHiS3aPuTpZ8Y5q8DNsbBR5xW1Jp7fAlZlTMYMkHk-Yye2VpvRSlYZE4lYtTjuLOkBujMt2vf8oIWvqJQTE/s1600/IMG_2393.jpg" height="122" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So, I guess that is what we have been doing last August. Getting to school. Humm... The first week of August we had Hal and Karynn out. That was, obviously, wonderful. When Parker walked in and saw them he actually squealed with delight. Parker only squeals at the most divine of pleasures, so it was a big deal. But I guess Chris already mentioned that we were working on relocating... Probably in about two years, though. It would be cool to have all of siblings there in the same state, though. </span><span style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Chris was able to spend a whole week at home after Hal and Karynn left. We didn't go do anything crazy, in fact I think the most exciting thing we did was go to the library together with the kids. But it was so fun and so nice. We watched the kids together while listening to an enormous Brandon Sanderson book together. That is how life is supposed to be. </span></div>
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Isaac - peed directly in his own mouth while I was changing him. I'll bet none of you guys can do that. H<span dir="ltr">e is still trying to get his eyes to work so he will look around and look and look and he will finally focus on your face and brake into a huge grin.</span></span><span class="im"></span><br />
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<span class="im">Esther - Is adorable. I mean seriously adorable. But no one will ever know because the minute I pull out a camera she stops what she is doing to come see the screen... behind the lens... she will so regret that when she gets older :).</span></div>
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<span class="im">Ethan - equally as adorable, still hard to catch on camera because Esther is so busy trying to get the camera from me that it is hard to get a good shot.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Parker - asked me yesterday why boys have balls in their penises. me - 'uhhh...' He also asked Chris in church how people get married Chris - "well, you go in the temple, kneel at the alter and they ask if you want to get married and you say yes.' Parker 'well when they ask me, I am going to say no.' (he is still very upset that he just can't marry Lyra. 'She's the one I love'). Parker wanted Isaac to sleep in his room (preferably his arms) because 'he only likes me.' Parker also carried Isaac up the stairs all by himself. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEh9ycRm59thgIpJVahKyuvQqPZXHV1-THFizJEuAT5RGHovnvjtEL64QIVx4xM9P-LqfRGIvaG9agw0MQ9MqObgOwoVEN9FQQfCjmZm2dH13ntJq5swwuXiiCFq6Wnm1AlKq451rRWc/s1600/DSC_0141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEh9ycRm59thgIpJVahKyuvQqPZXHV1-THFizJEuAT5RGHovnvjtEL64QIVx4xM9P-LqfRGIvaG9agw0MQ9MqObgOwoVEN9FQQfCjmZm2dH13ntJq5swwuXiiCFq6Wnm1AlKq451rRWc/s1600/DSC_0141.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhweKzK79OpRtgztNgkrqEnoqzMkOT7eo9bDqCl3hMAueXPfATVSJSKjuEmQFgaM2r-jwxxbu2dhJOraqAIgeMDNlK2hFaPT5aB276WX4M115ByZ0qz3ncs54YHkfYbIF8FyaaBG8Mioqs/s1600/IMG_2299_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> Lyra - Asked if she could marry dad, I said he was already taken. She would have to find another man who was kind and good. 'Okay. I will marry Grandpa.' When Ethan had a stinky diaper Lyra said, while holding her nose: 'you have to change Ethan's diaper because I can not change my nose every day.'</div>
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Sarah - happy</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVAizifOSBmO_T00-HKXNrR8npKzdyI2ro9iXmFWuB3gAvqUpM6sy96JlVEQzkLOaQlxjFfHHXBMJn6HQQpg5TwRhr80tFe9uG-GGYbwF1bahjLa0MgrdeeiVrXv7Y2XiUkiUvQVOowXo/s1600/IMG_2565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVAizifOSBmO_T00-HKXNrR8npKzdyI2ro9iXmFWuB3gAvqUpM6sy96JlVEQzkLOaQlxjFfHHXBMJn6HQQpg5TwRhr80tFe9uG-GGYbwF1bahjLa0MgrdeeiVrXv7Y2XiUkiUvQVOowXo/s1600/IMG_2565.JPG" height="112" width="200" /></a><br />
Chris - handsome. oh and he went shark fishing.</div>
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Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-51860802805729353632014-03-26T19:38:00.000-07:002014-03-26T19:38:35.296-07:00Funny thingsWe haven't been writing to this blog for a while, but here are two funny things that our kids have said:<br />
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Lyra: I'm not Lyra, I'm Princess Peach. Lyra is working.<br />
Dad: Really? What does she do?<br />
Lyra: She works at night . . . in France . . .<br />
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We were playing a game and they asked "What most important to you? Friendship, Things or Winning."<br />
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Parker responded immediately, with emphasis "WINNING!"<br />
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Dad: "We'll just pretend you said Friendship"Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-50380310666406704522013-12-23T11:31:00.000-08:002013-12-23T11:31:05.235-08:00Children for Sale....Due to a problem with our ordering system, we are currently overstocked and must clear our inventory for next year's model! We have so many of these we don't know what to do with them! If you see anything that you are interested in, please call our friendly sales associates to discuss terms. <br />
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Model 948540A - Lyra Emily; 4 years old<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuVuA28-6HGf9JQ3mwfgDnC6GlreSiHRTNUeddWmfklS21o8hX6G-QQ55WH-kVHQFl66MsGyy6YGgR5TlY3jW9EjHbnDjt0LT0uPJnADyfVadT-mD198rC3lQSAqZZDF89vmOg2W8_b5A/s1600/Heaton+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuVuA28-6HGf9JQ3mwfgDnC6GlreSiHRTNUeddWmfklS21o8hX6G-QQ55WH-kVHQFl66MsGyy6YGgR5TlY3jW9EjHbnDjt0LT0uPJnADyfVadT-mD198rC3lQSAqZZDF89vmOg2W8_b5A/s320/Heaton+(5).jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
This adorable model is known for her sweet smile, fun nature and big hugs. She enjoys movies with cuddles, dressing up, dancing and coloring. She started preschool this year and loves to be social. This model is inseparable from model 948540B and will spend a lot of time laughing at his jokes, racing him across the house, and building towers to knock down. She is great with her younger siblings and often brings them food without being asked. Be warned that unlike model 948540B, she is a night owl and will often go to sleep after her parents while blissfully playing with her finger puppets.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tXufp0_IO8Hwe8blAVwKzVnl1gx37FaGmjzP1x8ZqKcJPpWrfUfR-IsjkrcVRnIdVhXT2S5aM-cq-bC1d1yqbaXzIkWxgxOtz6Fek25KTE_QocRm0BqYXq1fLHrSuR1NKrsxRlQt6vk/s1600/Heaton+(43).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tXufp0_IO8Hwe8blAVwKzVnl1gx37FaGmjzP1x8ZqKcJPpWrfUfR-IsjkrcVRnIdVhXT2S5aM-cq-bC1d1yqbaXzIkWxgxOtz6Fek25KTE_QocRm0BqYXq1fLHrSuR1NKrsxRlQt6vk/s320/Heaton+(43).jpg" width="213" /></a>Model 948540B - Parker Bishop; 4 years old<br />
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This handsome model is perfect for anyone that loves a good time. He is very protective of model 948540A, insisting on standing behind her in line so he can keep an eye on her as well as voluntarily taking the blame when she does something naughty. Note that he requires at least 4 hours of the "Frozen" soundtrack each day. He's a quick study - just today said "I ate 9 bites. If I eat two more, that will be eleven bites!" He usually uses this ability to argue about he doesn't need to eat his dinner or how now is the best time for a movie, to various degrees of success. He brings so much fun and happiness to our family.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO97yJqc7wEaievrcH6orE7PTgkMMe0XHGYCYsPdllT_XgufP2vchWFz8qYVYnG6EGT40B0Fuw-bnbXBlRbn220zl7Qa9oDduDlloerh25oEOUjZMWLBPeDTSSMRLkXMtdeLvaU8T15hQ/s1600/Heaton+(69).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO97yJqc7wEaievrcH6orE7PTgkMMe0XHGYCYsPdllT_XgufP2vchWFz8qYVYnG6EGT40B0Fuw-bnbXBlRbn220zl7Qa9oDduDlloerh25oEOUjZMWLBPeDTSSMRLkXMtdeLvaU8T15hQ/s320/Heaton+(69).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Model 183490A- Ethan Christopher; 1 year old<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPA8LUj0Q_UVO4dnbP1E1Tc-H5BJ3I-5pz6SlKjvdU2E9qNyjINRFNx0ymrlwQ_fkS98YBRjKdsNxwFmLXI8Et2wdilZeIjXwo-U8I3Kn6g3wFXtqRQJTyxqMtPkeUUejCCYoeq02toew/s1600/Heaton+(57).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPA8LUj0Q_UVO4dnbP1E1Tc-H5BJ3I-5pz6SlKjvdU2E9qNyjINRFNx0ymrlwQ_fkS98YBRjKdsNxwFmLXI8Et2wdilZeIjXwo-U8I3Kn6g3wFXtqRQJTyxqMtPkeUUejCCYoeq02toew/s320/Heaton+(57).jpg" width="320" /></a>Constantly laughing, model 183490A will keep you on your toes. His signature move is to get you to pick him up and then point at something he wants, willing you to get it for him. Once he gets it, he will point at something else until he has tried a bit of everything in the pantry or has exhausted his parent. Endlessly curious, he will focus on balls, doors, and buttons until he has fully figured them out. Despite not being ticklish, Ethan is constantly laughing at his older siblings and making up new games for his family. <br />
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Model 183490B - Esther Karynn; 1 year old<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qiL3Nd_tYrJEuuITm9cvVX__NAnBTvHYKxoFaRAXUSFWBN0AzpGhjEE6o2ZS1MiarAL0U_iP8nqfn6jI9PqAbPenYX6ZxBZmTTFwhn9UL9OrFJYLCe71O6BCnNIYOBfZYx0J92UCotg/s1600/Heaton+(51).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qiL3Nd_tYrJEuuITm9cvVX__NAnBTvHYKxoFaRAXUSFWBN0AzpGhjEE6o2ZS1MiarAL0U_iP8nqfn6jI9PqAbPenYX6ZxBZmTTFwhn9UL9OrFJYLCe71O6BCnNIYOBfZYx0J92UCotg/s320/Heaton+(51).jpg" width="320" /></a>For those who need a easy-to-raise child, this is the model for you. She is always willing to share food, balls, and anything with her counterpart, 183490A. Only crying if she is hurt or the vacuum is on, she is an ideal child. This model is not suggested for anyone that has hip or back problems, as she requires that you hold her during every waking hour of the day. Note the beautiful round eyes that glimmer at her ready smile. This model loves books and will bring them to you constantly. Note that she does still require at least one hug per night, usually around 11:00 PM. She is truly a delightful, pleasant baby.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUp63_0DJZSxtvsdjLmitosDDYFA0yXmJIAbYeRPD1olzv2x92b83rKuSFLy2k4JDMhW-r9rkMPq2aPua9IZa8XP5ZzSNhj7Ry46ABCQUFI0tiYpvf6x5igu7HkbOx8j2Gb6HG_2GSH-w/s1600/Heaton+(59).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUp63_0DJZSxtvsdjLmitosDDYFA0yXmJIAbYeRPD1olzv2x92b83rKuSFLy2k4JDMhW-r9rkMPq2aPua9IZa8XP5ZzSNhj7Ry46ABCQUFI0tiYpvf6x5igu7HkbOx8j2Gb6HG_2GSH-w/s320/Heaton+(59).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Next Year's Model - Release date: July 2014<br />
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Very little has been released about this model, except that the developers are very stressed about its release date. Unlike previous models, this will be not be a two-for-one special, for which we are very grateful. Check back later at this spot for further updates. <br />
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Merry Christmas everyone! <br />
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Chris, Sarah, Lyra, Parker, Ethan, Esther and Baby Heaton<br />
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<br />Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2722515160463635955.post-28397263001172787142013-09-19T08:17:00.001-07:002013-09-20T07:04:33.354-07:00HomeIt is so funny to me. No matter how many times we leave and come back, and no matter how long we live here, I react the same time, every time.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUc-Z0-clD0OubQXz_f7flwm80eHLeZ_Op_s5yBbL3tGG9y8UQ2AnEhFztv8q0SXdfbKgWIm8ijxiJC1Yc3UibA8TrronB6YLThyJQDLioMb1bfuA1WPKTJ7be5xoxkHcdDbNvXPx7M8k/s1600/home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUc-Z0-clD0OubQXz_f7flwm80eHLeZ_Op_s5yBbL3tGG9y8UQ2AnEhFztv8q0SXdfbKgWIm8ijxiJC1Yc3UibA8TrronB6YLThyJQDLioMb1bfuA1WPKTJ7be5xoxkHcdDbNvXPx7M8k/s1600/home.jpg" /></a><br />
We have been away from home the last two weeks, visiting Grandma and Grandpa. It was a blast for the kids. Parker was still trying to negotiate a swift return as we were driving home from the air port "ok, how about we go home and then on Saturday, we go back to Grandma and Grandpa's house. Is that a good plan?"<br />
we pulled up to the house, our front yard looked like a jungle - truly, I should have taken a picture. Even so, our house looked so beautiful to me. I thought to my self 'man, I love my home.'<br />
We pulled into the garage and I walked into the house, dragging a kid and gasped!<br />
"OH! I live here!"<br />
I am sure I looked ridiculous. I just kept looking around at this beautiful home. It was bright, and open, and lovely. Turning circles to try to take in a scene that I had looked at for endless hours just a few weeks ago, I simply couldn't get enough. My hands were to my mouth in silent joy. Chris came over and I gave him a big long hug. <br />
"thank you for our home, Chris!'<br />
He hugged me back, laughing a little at his ridiculous wife. <br />
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I love my home. Apparently I think it is the most beautiful place. I prefer it to any place. <br />
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9/14/2013<br />
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Lyra's bedtime prayer:<br />
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Dear Henly fader. Thank you for the food and the water. Thank you for the astroid that didn't explode the earth. The dinosaurs are all dead now, but that's ok. and the museum with the bones. thank you for the babies. and curtains. The name of Jesus Christ amen. <br />
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There were more bits in there that I can't remember.. Man she is adorable. She has really started talking now that they go to preschool. the down side is that they have been twice and Parker has already said 'Mom, do people tear off heads and flush them down the toilet?' Two days. This is a really nice school, too. I hate that other kids are exposed to so much violence. and I hate that now my kid is.Sarah Heatonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02338284061162100832noreply@blogger.com0