B Boy's B-day

Not long ago, a friend pulled me aside, "I have to tell you, your Bryce is just so cute." 

I grinned in agreement.  She continued, "I know you struggle with him, but..." 

She stopped abruptly, evidently startled by the look of confusion on my face.  "I'm sorry," she back-pedaled, "I only said that because of what you told me a few months ago."

And then the conversation she was referring to came rushing back to me.  I remembered confiding that my darling Bryce taught me that I have a temper; that many of his behaviors and choices left me eager to bang my head against the nearest wall; that I felt like we were, way too often, at odds with each other.

And as the memory of that conversation came back, along with it came the realization that I didn't feel like that anymore.  My initial reaction to her statement had been to argue, "Bryce? I don't struggle with Bryce!"

I sincerely wish that I could take responsibility for this transformation, but the credit goes entirely to Bryce.  Over the last few months, so gradually that I evidently didn't even notice it, Bryce worked diligently and intentionally to make better choices.  "Mom," he occasionally confides, "I'm trying really, really hard."

"I know, Buddy," I respond, giving him a hug, "And I can really, really tell."  

He's not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, and we still have difficult moments, but if he were forced to stay this age and stage forever, I wouldn't mind a whit!

So, we welcomed his fifth birthday as an extra opportunity to celebrate a wonderful, loving boy who brings us incalculable joy.

We didn't do a friend party this year, choosing instead to spend time as a family doing things Bryce enjoys.  One of the things Bryce loves is trains, so last Saturday we trekked up to the Snoqualmie train museum.  We were a little disappointed that there wasn't a lot to see, but Bryce and Thane loved seeing the real trains and Bryce is eagerly anticipating his upcoming train ride.

On his actual birthday, Bryce spent the morning riding bikes/trikes with friends.  

When Mark got home from work, Bryce got to open his presents (Legos, and an alarm clock [not for the alarm part so much, just the clock part]), have his favorite dinner, and eat cake.  He said it was a great day.  Thank goodness for easy to please boys!

Bryce spends all year thinking about what kind of a birthday cake he wants.  This year was no exception, and he jumped from many different possibilities before finally settling on a "digger" cake.  "Let me get this straight," I asked, "you want me to make you a cake that looks messy?  THAT I can do!" 

In honor of his birthday, here are a few other things to remember about Byrce at five:

*My friend's comment about Bryce being "just so cute," was not an isolated incident.  We get those types of comments a lot, as well as comments about his smiles..."your son is smiling all the time," they tell us, "it just melts my heart."

We had one conversation with the primary music chorister from our last ward.  She told us, "When Bryce came to our primary, I would go home on Sundays and tell my husband, 'there is this one little boy who is just the cutest thing;  He's always smiling!' 

"Then we had the primary program," she continued, "and afterwards, my husband came up to me and said, 'there was this one little boy in the front, wearing a suit and singing and I couldn't stop looking at him, he was so cute.' I jumped up and down, 'That's him! That's the boy I've been telling you about!"

*For his part, Bryce says he "loooooves" primary.  He especially loves the cute girls in his class and makes it a point to sit next to them whenever possible.

*Back when things were "rough" with Bryce on a fairly regular basis, there were often nights when I'd go to put him to bed and we'd both be frustrated and angry and done.  One night in particular stands out in my mind.  

"Say your prayers!" I spat out.

"No!" he retorted, "you pray!"

My normal reaction would have been to insist that it's his prayer, so he needs to say it.  But this time, Heavenly Father softened my heart just enough to allow in the thought, "you pray, for him."

So I did.  I bowed my head and thanked Heavenly Father for the gift of such a precious son, and told him that we were having a hard time, but noted all the good qualities and kind things Bryce had done.  As I prayed I felt my anger melt away and soon Bryce's small hand slipped inside my folded ones, and when I said "Amen," he flung his arms around my neck, kissed my cheeks, and asked if he could "please say his own prayer now."

Occasionally, Bryce will still ask me to "pray for him" at night, and it's always such a special experience (though I did have to tell him it doesn't have to only be on "rough" days).

*Mark also has developed a special bedtime routine with Bryce: Once Bryce is tucked in, he always asks to "chat with Dad" (though lately, he'll sometimes deign to "chat" with me).  Both Bryce and Mark have the opportunity to choose any topic, and then they, well, chat about that topic.  Most of the time Bryce chooses scientific-type things, such as, "How do you build a road," or "What do you know about the moon," or more simply, "electricity," or "our bodies."

I've been amazed at his questions and also at how much information he retains from these short conversations.  He'll randomly start telling me all about astronauts or how blood goes through the body, and when I ask, "how do you know about that?" he casually shrugs, "chatting, just chatting."

*One Sunday morning as I was getting ready for church, Mark whispered urgently, "Erin, come here, you've got to see this!"

I snuck around the corner to see Bryce in Thane's room.  "You need to sit here," Bryce told Thane, "because I'm going to teach you."

Thane agreeably sat on his bed while Bryce proceeded to "teach" him all the things he'd learned in his chatting sessions.  When Thane lost interest and started wandering around the room, Bryce didn't miss a beat.  He kept explaining and questioning, until he was satisfied Thane also understood.

*Bryce's eagerness for learning and knowledge is so much fun!  We are almost halfway through the "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons" book and he is flying through.  He has no problems at all reading the five or six sentence stories.  Surprisingly, his favorite part of his "lessons" is the writing component at the end.  

When we started this school year, fine motor skills were one of my primary concerns, but all of a sudden all Bryce wants to do is draw and color and write.  He's meticulous and focused.  

*One day he announced he wanted to "draw a picture for Dad."  After thinking for a moment, he declared, "I know what Dad will like!" and proceeded to spend an hour carefully drawing and coloring a picture of books on a bookshelf.  Smart kid!

I am so excited to do kindergarten with him in the Fall; I know he's going to love it!

*Eager to show off his burgeoning reading ability, Bryce asked Mark to "write words on the computer."  Mark pulled Bryce on his lap, and, in very large font, wrote words for him to sound out.  Pages and pages of successful word reading later, Mark typed B-R-Y-C-E.  After several frustrating attempts to sound it out, Bryce finally complained, "I don't know! It's just too hard!"

*Another day, we were drawing pictures of things that start with the letter "w."  "I know!" Bryce enthused, "weeding starts with W!"

"No, Bryce," I gently corrected, trying not to laugh, "Rrrrr-eading starts with R."

I kind of love his little lisps.

*Last Saturday Mark gave Bryce and Thane major haircuts.  Out of nowhere, Bryce started singing (to the tune of "She'll be coming 'round the mountain"), "They'll be time enough for balding when we're old..."

What Bryce Says About Bryce:

Favorite Color: Blue-ish Green

Favorite Candy: Peppermints

What he wants to be when he grows up: Train Driver

Where he wants to go on his mission: Italy (for the tortellini!)

Favorite Primary Song: "If the Savior Stood Beside Me"

Favorite Movie: Toy Story

Favorite Thing to Do: Draw

Favorite Food: Macaroni and Cheese with Broccoli 

Best Friend: Aubree

Favorite Book: Flat Stanley

Favorite Toy: Legos and Geo Trax

What makes him happy: Making train tracks.

Favorite thing to do with Mom: Go to places, like the library

Favorite thing to do with Dad: Show him what I made with little Legos.

 Happy 5th Birthday, Bryce!

St. Patty's for Papa

Due to a miscommunication on my part, I found myself without any St. Patrick's Day picture books the day before our weekly homeschool co-op.  I sent out texts to most of my local friends asking if they had related books that I could borrow.  "No," came the consistent replies, with many adding, "we don't really celebrate that holiday."

"What?!" my brain struggled to understand, "not celebrate St. Patrick's Day??"

Leprechaun invasion at co-op

But then I remembered.  Most people weren't fed a steady diet of Irish stories, jokes, accents, and songs from infancy.   Most people don't have siblings with names like, "Sean," and "Colleen," and "Ian," and "Daniel."  Most people's own names don't mean 'Ireland.'  For most people, I guess St. Patrick's Day could be just some obscure holiday where you run the unpleasant risk of getting pinched.

But not for us.

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My dad wasn't big on holidays.  Especially not the "important" ones like Christmas and Thanksgiving.  We'd joke with him about being such a "Bah Humbug," but our jests were deeply rooted in truth.

When March 17th, rolled around however, Dad lost all traces of cynicism.  A holiday about Ireland!  What could possibly be better?  He would break out his Irish accent and use the Day as an excuse to tell some of his favorite Irish tales.

As a missionary in Belfast during the height of the IRA struggles, he frequently encountered antagonism and threats of violence from both sides of the conflict.  Often, he and his companions would be greeted on the streets with the dangerous question, "Are ye Protestant or are ye Catholic?"

To which they would carefully respond, "We're Mormon."

After a moment of hesitation, the accosters would fire back, "Well, are ye a Protestant Mormon or a Catholic Mormon?!"

Considering that Dad always tried to convince us children to wear Protestant orange instead of the more traditional Catholic green, it wasn't too hard to determine on which side his sympathies fell.

*****

Perhaps not surprisingly, I've found myself thinking about my dad a lot this week and today I decided that from now on, this is when I'll focus on my Dad and celebrate his life.  From now on, St. Patrick's Day will be a Big Deal in our home, in honor of my dad.  I'll use the opportunity to tell my kids his stories and remind them of how much he loved them.  I'll encourage them to wear orange, and teach them Papa's favorite Irish songs and jokes (well, the appropriate ones at least).

I'll add to our current traditions (which mostly involves lots of green food) and try to ensure that St. Patrick's Day is a fun and meaningful holiday for my kids - one that they look forward to all year - because it's something their Papa loved.

Aubree helped prepare the dinner menu: broccoli-potato soup, green rolls, green jello, and green pudding pie.

Even Graham gets green grub

Regarding Patience

I have a bunch of posts in "draft" mode.  One of those is a long and involved examination of the pros and cons of homeschooling (doesn't that sound thrilling??).  It will likely take me a while to finish it. As I was outlining that post, however, one related "issue" came to mind, and since it didn't deal directly with pros/cons, I decided to write about it separately.

*******

When people find out we homeschool, their reactions run the gamut, but by far the most common response I hear is, "I just don't have the patience for that!"  

I know it's probably just the easiest thing for people to say (kind of like the ubiquitous, "you've really got your hands full" comment), and how sincerely they mean it may be questionable, but it's a response that always irks me.  

Partially, that's because I'm never sure quite how to respond.

Do they want me to argue with them?  "Oh no!  You're such a patient mom, you would be the best homeschooling parent ever!"

Or agree with them? "You're right, you totally aren't cut out for this."

Is it meant as a complement?  Should I be thanking them for thinking so highly of me?  Or should I jump in to admit the truth?

Because the truth is, I (and probably most other homeschool parents) am not patient. "Patience" is much more likely to fall on the bottom of my list of virtues than the top. 

I frequently wonder if one of the reasons Heavenly Father wanted me to homeschool was so I could have ample opportunity to develop patience.  You know, the whole "make weak things become strong unto them" thing?

******

Another problem I have with this particular phrase is that it often leaves me wondering: "If you, the parent, the one who knows and loves your child more than anyone, doesn't have the patience to teach him, what makes you expect a teacher, who likely has 25+ other students in his or her class, is going to have patience with your kid?"

Additionally, sometimes parents make these comments with their children standing near them, and I cringe imagining what message the child is internalizing.

******

Please don't get me wrong.  I'm not trying to suggest that homeschooling is right for everyone, or even that everyone would be successful if they tried.  There are plenty of good reasons not to homeschool (I'll cover some of them in the post I mentioned earlier).  Patience is important, but it's a skill that can be learned and honed, not an innate characteristic bestowed on a few chosen ones.

And that, my friends, is enough ranting for one night.

"By Myfelf"

I've been collecting anecdotes about my kids for months and just haven't yet gotten around to allocating the brain power necessary to blog about them (and the longer I wait, the more daunting the task becomes).  However, in reviewing my notes, I noticed that a significant majority of the stories involve Thane.  And, considering the major accomplishments of the last few weeks, I thought it appropriate to designate this blog post just for him.

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So, to begin, let me back up a little over 6 months...

One morning I encouraged Thane to try to have his morning bowel movement before I put him in the shower.  "On the potty?" he queried.  

Shocked by the question, I stammered, "Uh... sure," thinking that sitting him on the toilet might be good pre-potty-training desensitization.  Up he hopped, and if I was shocked to hear him ask to sit on the potty, you better believe I almost keeled over when he immediately peed and pooped.  

"Who taught you to do that?!" I demanded.  

Followed immediately by, "No.  Nonononononono!  I am super impressed that you figured this out by yourself, but I am NOT going to potty train you right now.  I've been down this road once or twice before, and I know the effort involved in potty training a child.  I have other things to do this week.  You know, kind of important things, like having a baby!"

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After putting him off for almost six more months, I finally caved to peer pressure and decided the time had come to undertake the potty training process.  I was afraid we might have missed the golden "window of opportunity," and the first couple accident-filled days seemed to confirm my fears. But, on about day 3, something clicked and we've now been over 2 weeks without a single accident!

Less than a week into the process, Thane decided he wanted to wear his underwear on all our outings and during his nap time.  I was hesitant, but he has been nothing short of a-mazing.

In true Thane fashion, he's already convinced he doesn't need any help, and I frequently find him coming out of the bathroom casually informing me, "Me just peed."

*********

You see, Thane has always been fiercely independent; it almost never even occurs to him to ask for help.  If he wants or needs something, he figures out a way to get it or make it happen.  

One small example - he's adamant about getting dressed on his own. Occasionally he'll deign to allow me to button his pants, but otherwise he can do it, "by myfelf!" When he first learned to dress himself (many months ago), I had to be extremely careful, lest I inadvertently touched him or his clothes during the getting dressed process, because that would then necessitate him stripping back down and starting completely over.

*******

No discussion of Thane would be complete without addressing his penchant for contrariness.  There was a long period of time when Thane contradicted almost everything we said (the last two months, I will admit, have been a marked improvement, so most of these stories come from before Christmas).  Mark and I soon discovered two important things: 

1. reverse psychology was our friend, and

2. arguing with a two-year old is an exercise in insanity, so just reply, "okay, Thane."

We had many conversations like the following....

Me - "Here's your milk, Thane." 

Thane - "I don't want milk!" 

Me - "Great, don't have milk, have water." 

Thane - "No! I want my milk!"

and like this....

Me - "Come upstairs, I need to take a shower."

Thane - "Me not want a shower, Aaahhhhh!"

Me - "Fine, you don't need a shower today, you had one yesterday."

Me: sigh (as Thane spends my entire shower sobbing outside the shower door because, "me does want to take a shower!"

One night, after a long series of contradictions, I exclaimed, "Thane! You are so contrary!"

Thane scowled, pulled himself up tall, and retorted, "Me not contrary, YOU contrary!"

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Thane also has a strong sense of how things should be done.  Sometimes that works in our favor, such as the fact that he always reminds us that we need to have scripture study before we go to bed (and here's an adorable video of him saying the first scripture he ever memorized [2 Ne. 2:25]...this was the first time he performed it, now he repeats it constantly).

Sometimes his particularity can be maddening, such as when he demands the blankets on his bed be put in a specific order or facing the exact right direction.  Or when he decided that certain designs on his diaper made them "morning diapers" and other designs were "night time diapers," and they could only be worn accordingly.  Or when we move something around, and he insists of putting it back "where it goes," no matter how many times we explain that we decided to move it.

When things don't go his way, Thane is often quick to anger and hitting is his preferred mode of showing that anger.  As he's gotten more articulate, he's happy to explain, "he hurt me, so I'm going to hurt him back!"  That logic makes so much sense to him.

One night as I was trying to put him to bed, he got mad at me and started to try to hit me. "Thane!" I scolded, "we don't hit in our house!"

He stopped fighting and thrashing, looked up and asked, "do we hit outside?"

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Here are some other things I want to remember and record:

*Shortly after his second birthday, Thane became known as "Echo," because he repeated everything he heard (and also because he copied everything Bryce did).  Thane's verbal echoing was especially evident in the car; he'd sit in his car seat carefully repeating, as precisely as possible, all the conversation around him.  Sometimes I'd just sit and listen in amazement as he'd quietly whisper all he heard.  All that practice resulted in dramatic improvements in his own verbal ability (though he clearly still has pronoun issues).

*Like many parents, I've learned I have to be stealthy about throwing things away, because nothing is trash to Thane.

*The other night Aubree asked me what we were having for dinner.  "Wraps," I replied.

Thane looked up, confusion and distress evident on his face, "Wrap?  With Graham in it?"

*One afternoon I went upstairs for two minutes to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer.  As I came down the stairs, I did a quick visual sweep of the house.  I saw Aubree and Bryce, but no Thane. "Where's Thane?" I asked.  No response.  "Thane?"  "Thane!"

Slowly, the pantry door opened.  Out came Thane, grinning broadly and covered from the waist up in Nutella.

*Thane has always had difficulty going to nursery.  When we got put in a new ward at the beginning of this year, I was afraid it would be just another setback, especially since the nursery seems to be one of the last things organized and has been chaos every week.  Surprisingly, Thane has thrived in these circumstances.  He likes being one of the big kids and the weekly subs (who don't know what they're doing), keep pulling us aside to tell us how helpful Thane has been in making sure they know the routine, in taking care of the littler kids, and in cleaning up.  

*One day when Thane was getting his shoes out of the closet, he came across an old pair of his shoes.  This particular pair was unique because it zipped up.  However, Thane couldn't get the zipper to work.  Frustrated, he lamented, "Mom! This shoe is out of batteries!"

*Thane still loves to help around the house.  He's Mark's official assistant trash collector.  He's the first to run and get Graham a diaper or help set the table.  He's also quite skilled at helping unload the dishwasher.

*Thane is solidly in the "why?" phase.  Conversations at our house always go something like this:

Me - "Daddy will be home when you wake up in the morning."

Thane - "Why Daddy be home when I wake up in the morning?"

Me - "Because tomorrow's Saturday."

Thane - "Why tomorrow's Saturday?"

Me - "Because Saturday comes after Friday."

Thane - "Why Saturday comes after Friday?"

And on and on... repeated 879 times a day.

*Through it all, this little man has totally and completely stolen my heart.  Even on the hardest days, I put him to bed and think, "I just really, really like this kid!"