Reflections, er, Expressions

A few weeks ago, I was asked to judge the written portion of the Reflections contest at the local elementary school. Except since the school is not associated with the national PTA, it's not officially Reflections, it's Expressions. Clear?

Here are some of the gems. I wish I'd wriien them down when I had them in front of me, but these are just those I remember. The theme is "If I had a wish."

"She came slowly. (It's very hard to run fast when carrying a heavy ladder.)"

"And when I went to the moon I took my Zhu Zhu pets."

Okay, I can't remember any more. Dang, I should have written these down when I had them! My favorite, the grand prize in the 5th-6th grade category, was poem that went something like this:

If I had a wish I'd wish for a thousand shelves and I'd fill them with my stories.

If I had a wish I'd wish for a thousand books and I'd read them all.

Etc. Except hers was way better. Dang, this is what you get for planning a great blog entry in your head and then not writing it until the words are all gone and all you have left is a great idea. Well, I hope you are all good pretenders. I gave out one grand prize, then a maximum of five first prizes and five second prizes for each of the three grade categories. Some had obviously written theirs the night before, but some were really good, or really cute. Not usually both, but hey, they're kids. I'm too used to junior high-aged essays for some of their stuff, I think.

Poop Chronicles

Warning: once again, this post should not be read by the squeamish or any non-parents. Unless you like poop.

So, Sasha has had very few foods in his life. He has, however, had antibiotics, which may be the reason he did not poop for five days. I know what you're thinking: no poop for a week or longer is normal in newborns. (What? You're thinking "gross, poop! Where is my "back" button to get to another website? Where is your sense of adventure?) But Sasha usually poops every day, so five days is a long time. At Marilyn's house last night, she encouraged me to give Sasha a suppository. For those of you who don't know (I didn't), this is a laxative put directly into the...well, you get the idea. It didn't make him poop.

So, all night, even in my sleep, I'm hoping the boy is pooping. Hoping, praying, imagining awful scenarios. This morning, the least awful scenario came true. Poop everywhere. Legs, back, front, pjs, blanket, sheets. And what a happy boy we had today!

It's really Sasha's fault...

Broke another rib. Yep. Playing indoor soccer again. Umm-hmmm. I'm convinced my last pregnancy just LEACHED the calcium from my bones. Or I'm getting old. Or both. I need to get some calcium to try to make up for my increasingly fragile bones. However, I have gotten a meal from a visiting teacher and one from my mother-in-law, so it's not all bad.

Today I actually feel pretty good, but the night after it happened I woke up positively whimpering in a very undignified manner. Zane got up and got me some Tyelenol, bless him, but then Sasha needed feeding. I made it to the living room chair to feed him, but then I had to call Zane because I was really about to faint. I didn't, but it was a near thing. All very embarrassing.

I posted the information on my mishap on Facebook. My favorite comment was cousin Jason's, who said that I need to take up biking because breaking one rib at a time is so inefficient. That's true. I really should just get all my bone-breaking done at once and get it over with. Thanks, Jason.

Being a Mommy

AT about 1:30 this morning, Sasha started to cry. Naturally, I staggered out of bed to his crib, where I picked him up. As soon as he was in my arms, he stopped crying and all the tension went out of his little body and he relaxed against my shoulder. It was like, "Oh, Mommy's here. Now I'm taken care of." So tender.

Right now, Sabrina is playing outside. She loves being outside. Yes, last I checked it was 32 degrees. What? That's way warmer than it has been this winter. Mom once said if she didn't know where I was she knew I was probably in my room reading and making crumbs on the sheets. Ah, what is better than good food (graham crackers with peanut butter and chocolate chips) and good literature (Little Women, et. al.)? I'm afraid, though, that when I can't find Sabrina she'll be chasing cows off our property or climbing in the barn or exploring the back edges of our property. Not as easy to find that kind of girl, eh?

Today I love being a mommy.

Cleaning: A Test

A few months ago (when Zane was a little irritated with me and taking it out in a passive-aggressive way) he told me that lo these many years ago (like, one) his mom mentioned that he and I are kind of messy. I can't be offended because a) it's true, and b) Marilyn and I have different cleaning styles. I have developed a test to determine if you are a Marilyn or a Molly.

1. In two hours I can
a) clean my house.
b) clean the bathroom, if I really rush and don't get interrupted.

2. When my child uses my lipstick as a crayon in my bathroom, I'm angry because:
a) that was a really good color and a free sample to boot and I threw it out before I could check the name.
b) I have to clean it all up.

3. If I'm having people come over, I
a)am still cleaning 10 minutes before they come by throwing toys into the kids' rooms, because I figure by the time the guests see the kids' rooms we can blame the mess on current playing.
b) organize cupboards in the kitchen in case someone needs to bake cookies.

4. I'm more likely to see
a) that the carpet has been vacuumed this week -- look! lines on the carpet!
b) dust.

5. Before the cleaning service comes
a) you have a cleaning service? Lucky!
b) you clean.

So, count up your As and Bs. If you have more As, you're like me! Congratulations! You have a messy house > 50% of the time. If you have more Bs, you're like Marilyn! And you have a clean house pretty much all the time. Oh, and she doesn't have cleaning service now, she has Vienna. I'm just assuming what would happen if she did.

RSV Update

On Thursday night Mom called, worried about Sicko. After listening to his breathing over the phone, she ordered me to take him back to the doctor the next day. So, of course, I did. There is an RSV clinic at the hospital designed specifically to keep kids out of the hospital. The only thing they had to do for Sasha, though, was clearing out his mucus. If you're not a parent, you should stop reading right now and go to a happy site with no bodily fluids mentioned.

If you're still reading this, here's what happened: deep suctioning. They took a long catheter and, while I held my precious baby's hands, stuck it down his nose and suctioned out disgusting, oxygen-limiting mucus out of him. After a few minutes of crying and struggling they finally let him go and tested his oxygen. Above 90 is okay, but they like to see about 96. He was 99. Yay for mucus-removing treatments! He's a little wheezy again this morning and I may take him in for a repeat tomorrow, but I think he's getting better. Still, this has been a serious, disgusting adventure.

Sick Boy

I took Sasha to the doctor today because he has been wheezing. And snotty, and coughing. But happy, always happy. After testing his oxygen levels, looking in his ears, suctioning out his nose, and an Advair treatment, it was diagnosed: RSV and a double ear infection. Well, it's just a probably on the RSV, we didn't get the snot tested. Why? Because who cares if it's RSV or another virus that also can't be treated? Not me. So the upshot is: poor baby, and don't drop by unexpectedly unless you want RSV. I kept thinking he was immunized against RSV, but no, that was rotavirus. Anyway, he's on antibiotics for the ear infections, and I've been warned to bring him in again if he turns blue. Did not need to be told that.

Carl Bloch

Mormons all know Carl Bloch's work, even if they don't know they know it. His work is used all over, and is in all sorts of manuals and picture collections. So, I was planning on enjoying the BYU exhibit. I didn't expect the WOW factor.

As you walk in, the first painting you see is the Doubting Thomas. I literally stopped in my tracks. There's something about actually seeing a painting that just isn't communicated in lovely 3x5 prints. It's larger than life, and Bloch did something to make the background receded and the figures really stand out.

Then, just around to the right is my favorite picture of the exhibition: The Daughter of Jarius. The notes next to the painting (which someone was calling a photograph, which is kind of the point--it's not one) said most paintings of this story show Jesus after he has raised the daughter from the dead. This one has the mother sitting next to her dead daughter and Jesus in the door, as yet unseen and unacknowledged. I've noticed many of the really great artists tend to portray the moment before, like Michelangelo's David. He holds his sling, waiting, but has not yet killed Goliath. Whatever it was, this painting kept me coming back several times.

Sasha was a little fussy and a lot heavy, and Sabrina was giggling and running in circles around chairs, set up for quiet contemplation of the pictures. But Aunt Kathleen, who Sabrina dubbed "other grandma," watched the kids for a few minutes at the end, and I wasn't even sorry they were there. Amazing show.

A heritage of high intelligence

A heritage of high intelligence. That's what Sabrina has. That refers to Grandma Maughn, of course, she has that coveted high intelligence. So, joking aside, Sabrina is so smart! In two days she's learned three letters! Yay! she knows S, O, and C. She can spell soc! It's okay that it's spelled wrong, because she's only two. And a half. We were reading Dinosaur ABC tonight, and she would find those letters. She's good at S and O, but C we learned tonight so it's a little harder. Anyway, we saw one dinosaur with a big fin on its back, and Sabrina told me, "It gets warm by the sun." That's right! At least, that's what the book says. I told her that a couple days ago. Oh, and at the Carl Bloch exhibit she looked at a picture of the ar-teest and said "That's Joseph Smith." Well, not Joseph Smith, but how did you know about Joseph Smith? Must be nursery. We talk about Jesus plenty, and Heavenly Father, but we have yet to delve into church history.

And speaking of the Carl Bloch exhibit, it was amazing. It deserves its own post, so I'll just say now: Wow.

Poor Japan

Poor Japan. That was one huge earthquake, and it's made all the more poignant for our family because Sendai, the city nearest the epicenter, was Zane's mission. He says one of his apartments was likely destroyed by the tsunami, because it was only about 100 yards inland. I'm sure it had a great location and all, unless you consider the 33-foot walls of water that come to visit.

Watching the videos of people in the earthquake was really...moving. Ha ha. But seriously, just seeing their faces and the mundane tasks they were doing when all hell broke loose made me really realize how barriers of race, language, and location are nothing to our shared humanity. And I'm sorry if that sounds trite. Okay, I know it sounds trite. It's still true.

Binkie Loss

At one time, I had five of those newborn pacifiers, you know, the ones that are blue/greeen and are round and look kind of funny? Yeah, Sasha really liked them, so I kept good tabs on them. Then I lost one at Zane's office, I think. One was under the crib. One I had. Two I KNEW were in the house. I knew it. But I couldn't find time, and I've cleaned, looked under couches and chairs, everything. Couldn't find 'em.

Yesterday, Sabrina comes into the room with TWO of them! Sadly, one was from under the crib, but the other must have been stashed somewhere in her room, in a box or purse or something. Not in her toys, or books, or bed, or dresser. I have no idea, but now I have three again. These are the things that make me excited these days.

I'm starting teaching again next year. I'll get to be excited about 12-year-olds writing essays again, as well as getting binkie joy. The best of both worlds?

Forgiveness and stuff

In Sunday school last week, we were supposed to be studying Matthew 6 and 7. Good chapters, the second part of the Sermon on the Mount. So, naturally, we spend the first fifteen minutes talking about Matthew 5. Also a good chapter, but was well covered last week. You know, when we were supposed to be studying Matthew 5.

The next fifteen minutes (for those of you counting, that's 30/45ths of the class. And yes, I can reduce that but I don't want to) we talked about forgiveness. Specifically, we talked about how lovely it was that Brandon Davies of BYU who (I've heard) got his girlfriend pregnant was "forgiven" by 22,000 fans at a BYU basketball game and given a round of chanting his name. Now, a show of support is nice and stuff, but let's face it: it's super easy to forgive someone famous/good at stuff/a male for sexual sins because their sins don't actually affect us/we have a double standard. Even the most rabid BYU basketball fan is minimally affected by Brandon being suspended. I wonder if his girlfriend with the big stomach and no wedding ring will be equally as forgiven, or if she will be blamed for "seducing" him (let's not get me started on that one. No, really) or be otherwise shunned for HER part in this. I'm guessing not.

/rant ends

Catch up

Okay, I know it's been a long time since I blogged. Let's just say, I did not do great in the "don't be idle" goal. I don't know, maybe putting quantifiable goals as subgoals is not the best thing for a mother of a two-year-old and an infant. I think that just depressed me. So, onward and upward! I'm honestly not sure what this month's goal is, probably because I got a FAIL on February, but hey, that's why I have monthly goals instead of yearly ones!

Today Dad came up for lunch, i.e. he brought KFC. I mean, I'd cook for him, but he volunteers to bring the good stuff. Who am I to ruin his fun. Sasha was sitting on his knees, and Dad flapped his (Dad's) arms up and down, and then Sasha flapped his (Sasha's) arms up and down. It was hi-larious. Sasha's really getting interactive and fun, not a sandbag anymore. When Dad was leaving we told Sabrina to say goodbye, and she ran to the door. Dad thought she was ushering him out, but she spread all 2 foot 10 or so in front of the door to prevent him from leaving. That's how the grandkids feel about Grandpa Joe.