The Finger Store

This morning I was driving Stratton to preschool when he let me have another peek at how his little brain works. Some of you may know that my mom lost her ring finger last year in a wood splitting accident. Stratton has just recognized this over the last week and has told me 100 times about how Grandma lost her finger to the wood splitter. This morning, he was telling me again about how Grandma lost her finger. Then he said, " She should probably get a new one." I told him it would be nice if she could. After being quiet for a second he said. " But I don't think there are any finger stores. So she can't. That's too bad." I loved his idea for a finger store, but I don't think we'll see them popping up anytime too soon.

Starting Young

Stratton is an unbelievable 4 years old and has been growing up so fast lately. He has been saying some of our family prayers lately, and we have started doing a job chart for him each week to earn an allowance. Every Sunday night he gets his allowance, and we talk about tithing and put some of it into his tithing envelope. This morning he was saying morning prayers and at the very end he said " Thank you for paying my taxes." Brigg and I started laughing so hard. Who knew that 4 year olds had such weighty financial matters on their minds? We asked him if he meant tithing, and he got red and giggled, so I don't really think he's worried about his taxes, but it made us laugh.

Be a Good One

I came across a quote from Abraham Lincoln this morning that I liked.

" Whatever you are, be a good one."

I want my boys to know this. I don't care what they are. I don't care if Stratton really does grow up to be a pilot, like he currently tells us, or grows up to be a "strong robot" like he insisted on last year. (Well, maybe I mind the robot thing just a bit) I just want them to be good. They can be whatever they want, just be happy at it. Same goes for me. Do I really need to define what I am or do, or can I just be good at what I'm working on at the time? Just what's on my mind while folding laundry today.

Redemption can be so short lived...

Reading Winnie the Pooh to the boys by the fire on a quick overnight camping trip up the Chena a few weeks ago

Monday I had one of those days where everything I touched turned to ashes, in one case quite literally. By the time we had put out the massive grill fire that was supposed to be our dinner, I was completely discouraged. You know when you feel like you don't even want to start anything else because based on the day you've been having, it's bound to be a disaster. Wednesday we still started out rough, but by the afternoon and evening, everything was going great. The boys were being wonderful, not fighting and playing by themselves while I cooked dinner. Dinner turned out great. Life was as it should be. Then Dashell dumped 2 gallons of bath water on the floor when I turned my back to grab a diaper. Even so, most of it was absorbed by their shaggy bathroom rug and I still felt like maybe we were getting back on track. Next week, our life is about to get much busier again and our unstructured days of the last 4 months are going to be a thing of the past with preschool and all our other activities starting up, so in recognition of that, I thought that today instead of staying home to get some house projects done, I would take the boys to the park to play for one of the last times together this summer. I should have known that something so harmless and universally popular at our house as a day at the park was not going to turn out well. We were there for about 2 hours and Stratton spent at least 45 minutes of that time screaming and kicking in the gravel having a massive meltdown tantrum of epic proportions in front of a 4th grade class on a field trip. Dashell was fine at the park, but fights tooth and nail whenever we have to leave, so my attempts to make it to the car carrying 2 kicking and screaming boys were even more embarrassing than letting my child meltdown in public, so we ended up waiting it out in full view of the few other park goers there on this foggy morning. And the trigger for this drama? I reminded Stratton he needed to ask nicely if he wanted me to push him on the swing. Yes, that's right. My normally sweet and relatively well mannered boy had a massive tantrum because he didn't want to say 'please'. Lovely. At least I had a brief respite this week. That's why I posted the picture above. It looks like a perfect family campfire scene. Don't all families sit by the fire and read Winnie the Pooh on camping trips? But in reality, it was a brief respite from a chaotic and wakeful night that ended in a morning of rain and early return home. But looking at the picture makes me smile at the 10 minutes that the boys just wanted to sit and find out where Eeyore's tail was. I suppose that for me, the real achievement as a mother is when I can revel in the peaceful moments enough to weather the next inevitable storm. I can't always do that, but I am trying. I think that we all have been so thrown off by our move and starting over in a new place that we aren't even completely certain how to "get back to normal". Even the definition of "normal" will be new. I don't even know if we'll recognize when we get there, if we ever do. "Normal" is an elusive state with 2 rapidly growing and independent boys. Maybe we shouldn't be seeking normal, just a little more day to day stability. And we are getting there. Even as our days are getting shorter, the moments of sunlight in our family are getting a little longer and more regular. Lets hope my little boys sunshine increases as our daylight decreases.