The Kids Are Playing Together

We got a trampoline yesterday.  It rained this morning, and it's a bit cold, but that's not stopping the kids from playing on it.  But the greatest thing is that the three of them (Ella, Tolman, and Thomas) are all laughing and playing well together.  It's been about 15 minutes and they haven't argued yet!

It's incredibly satisfying to watch.

Interactive TV

Last night, PBS aired the Nova show "Making Stuff: Cleaner".  The ads for these Nova shows looked interesting, with some technology journalist doing a colorful tour through some new developments; other editions were entitled "Stronger", "Smaller", and "Smarter."  I don't really watch TV, I thought the boys might enjoy these.

So, after their bedtime at eight o'clock, I invited them in to watch.  Tolman, age 9, is always interested in new stuff, so I figured it would hold his attention; Thomas, age 6, was a bit more questionable... would he actually stay and watch, or would he wander off or even distract us by trying to do something else?

It was fantastic.  They would comment and ask questions from time to time; I hate that when watching movies, but this was exactly what I was hoping for.  Halfway through, Thomas got a little blanket to cover himself and get comfortable, and Tolman joined us on the couch.  They asked if we had any solar panels; Tolman's favorite parts involved the expanding foam made of food, the time-lapse decaying strawberries, and the way they processed "peas" (actually wheat) into plastic-like car parts.

And afterward, they went to right to their beds.  Tolman asked if I knew that the sun is 93,000,000 miles from the earth and the moon is 250,000 miles away; he's into details like that.  Then they both quietly read their books.  Aaaaah.  Now that's a good night.

Fresh Air and Conversation

Yesterday was Sunday, and I planned to do some of my own thing, but I wanted to at least show a little effort at being with the kids, so I did take a bit of time with each of them.  (This is my weekly program of spending time about 30 minutes with each of them on Sunday.)  I threw a bouncy ball with Thomas, but made it short.  Then I went with Tolman out to his tree-house (actually a tree-platform right now); he likes to talk, and I mostly just listen.  I actually ended up taking half-an-hour with him; I think being outside did me some good.  Then I went in and woke up Ella who was still in bed; we talked for just a minute, and that was that.  I also sat by Olivia for a minute and we reviewed the calendar for this week since she likes to know what's going on so she can remind us ad nauseum.

I ended up getting nothing of my own done.

So I'm sitting here reminiscing, and I realized what an accomplishment that was: to have a teen do nothing but lie in bed and talk with me is something I've got to appreciate.  :-)  I don't remember many specifics, but I believe the pleasant attitude of the day will linger somewhere in our memories for a while to come.

Sharing a Shirt

The other morning Thomas walked in wearing a red shirt and said, proudly, "Tolman let me wear his school shirt!" That was pretty amazing since they are pretty possessive about their clothing. I'm accustomed to hearing complaints from the girls about wearing each others' clothes, and maybe that's where the boys picked up the habit; whatever the reason, there are certain pieces of clothing which are their favorites and which regularly start fights between them.

Sure enough, Thomas was wearing the school shirt that Tolman got in kindergarten... which was perfect for Thomas now that he's in kindergarten.Then he said, "It's got Miss Smith on the back." Yep, her self-portrait is in the top-left corner, because Tolman had her back then, too.

He was so proud that you'd have thought he just won a game. And he's right: it is a big deal when your brother does something nice for you like that. And it's a big deal when one son does something nice for another son like that. I've got some praising to do.

The Endurance of a Little Boy

We planned a hike to see a "hole in the rock", where the wind has carved out a deep cave that has worn through to the other side, starting an arch. Thomas (4) wanted to go with us, possibly because we were going on the ski boat. Of course I said "yes". I started questioning the wisdom of that almost immediately since he asked to get on my shoulders as soon as we got off the boat and started walking. Luckily, I had water I could use to coax him along. Halfway along, Uncle Bob broke into song, and after we grew tired of that Thomas started singing one he knew. All in all, it was a good hike to the rock.

We enjoyed climbing around and taking pictures in the strange cave. The view was awesome, and it was much cooler than the desert around it. It would be nice to eat a picnic there or spend a night. Alas, we finally had to leave... but Thomas wanted to stay. I stayed with him a minute longer, but we were with a whole group of people so we had to catch up so they wouldn't have to wait on a child being selfish. I insisted it was time to leave, but Thomas wouldn't have it. "I'm staying here!"

"OK," I said, and I left him.

Tolman was concerned; I had to reassure him that I would not leave Thomas in danger. Luckily there is a small hill close to the formation, so I got out of sight and slowed down to wait. Thomas was crying, howling as loud as he could, but soon I could tell that he was coming. I continued my stroll. When he got closer, I asked if he'd like me to wait for him; he only scowled in answer, so we continued with him a dozen paces behind. Later I asked him again and got the same response. Finally he said "yes," so I walked with him.

He complained a bit about the hot sun on his neck, but he didn't give up and break down again. So I pushed it: we were far behind the others so I started jogging and encouraging him along faster. He came along! At one point he hurt his ankle and we walked for a short minute; he complained again about the sun, but he kept going; he drank the last of the water along the way. But we made it, and he stayed a trooper the rest of the time.

It's awesome to watch someone grow up right in front of you.

Admiring a Young Man's Composure

This is Tolman's first day with Cub Scouts. They're going to Cub Country. We set the alarm and woke up early so that I would make sure to get him up in time to go; turns out he was already up and fully dressed in his new scout gear and didn't need breakfast. I remember how I used to get excited like that.

But more than his excitement, I appreciated seeing what came next. I stayed and watched for a minute after dropping him off while the leader talked to the boys about a few rules. First, she asked them to pick a buddy. She didn't notice one boy's choice and assigned him to someone; immediately he put his head down in his arms and would not talk with her. Someone else explained the situation and she assigned him to the buddy he wanted, so he finally looked up and answered her questions. In contrast, when she first asked who wanted to pick their buddy, Tolman quickly raised his hand, but I saw the disappointment as the leader let someone else pick first and both of his friends in the group paired up together, leaving him out. What a way to start the day with a dose of rejection! But he stayed calm and let her assign him with someone who he didn't know.

I expect he's going to have a fantastic day. And I have high hopes for this young man's future.

A Speech (All Four Sentences of It)

Tolman agreed to give a talk in his class again. The last time, he didn't prepare and then simply didn't want to do it, and I made sure he went directly to a leader himself and told her that he wouldn't do it. I thought he wouldn't volunteer to talk again.

Well, this time I just found out the night before, so that night and the next morning I asked a few times if he wanted any help, and he always said "no". Finally in church, he asked me if he had to do it. I tole him I wouldn't force him, so he said he didn't want to do it. That's great; I just explained the consequence: if he wasn't going to participate with his class and follow through on his commitments, he wouldn't be able to stay with his class. Instead, he'd have to spend his time somewhere else, like my class. He didn't like that very much; he kept asking and complaining, and finally said angrily, "OK, I'll do it. But I don't want any help!"

Well, I knew it wouldn't end there, but it wasn't until we were singing the final song that he asked if I would help him. I told him it was too late for me to help, but I talked with him during the song: I told how I pick a story to tell; he came up with one, and he practiced saying the whole thing. He forgot how to wrap it up at the end, so we talked about it and he did it again with everything right. I felt that much was an accomplishment, and it was positive because he was no longer angry. However, I worried that he wouldn't remember everything.

So we went and sat at the front, and almost immediately he asked if I remembered it, because he had forgotten. Actually, I honestly couldn't hear what he said earlier, so I was sorry but I couldn't help at that point. When it was time to stand, I made the mistake of going with him up to the podium; he didn't say anything and looked at me for help. I told him to go ahead, and he whispered that he was thinking, so I sat down again. He was up there for a few seconds longer, just standing without saying anything. Finally, he told his entire story and ended it perfectly. It was short, but it was all his! I grabbed him and gave him a huge bear hug and told him I was proud.

I heard from a friend that he looked down the whole time, but I don't care. He owned it, and he finished it.

July 4th with the family

Yesterday was West Bountiful's Independence Day Celebration. Yes, it is still June, but our city does our stuff on a weekend far from the national celebration so as to avoid conflicting with everything else that happens. We're a small town in the middle of a large urban area (we still have horse property all around us!), so we have the feeling of a smaller community. I really enjoyed our little parade, carnival, and then time afterward as a family. The whole day was kind of up-and-down; there was a lot of complaining and crying and disappointment and outright boredom, but there were also a ton of smiles and mingled in our myriad of activities. I was pondering life issues this morning and I realized that it was truly a memorable day, and a fond memory at that, so it is worth recording here.

It began with our city parade. Ella and Tolman sang in the school choir, so they got to ride and sing in a float.









Thomas and Olivia seemed to really enjoy it. Olivia was up and around, cheering for the floats, and waving enthusiasticallythe whole time; between that and chasing after all the candy thrown out, it was quite the interactive event.













Then we went to the park where the first performance was the school choir. Naturally, Ella sang with all her might; Tolman sang some things, though I don't have a picture to prove it. The kids did well... for kids. But it seems to be more fun to watch what they do on stage that isn't part of the performance, especially when they're supposed to be performing.


















Of course, the kids had to go on the blow-up slides and obstacle courses; anyone who knows Olivia, Tolman, and Ellie will recognize a bit of their personalities in each of their styles.





And this is where I have to give a hand to Lynnette, because she took every one of these pictures; Thomas went down a slide, too, but we don't have a picture of it because I took him to the different one that he wanted to go on, and I don't typically take pictures. Sorry about that.












So then the cousins invited us over for swimming, just to make the day perfect. (That last picture is of Ella's legs: she's doing a handstand underwater.)















Yes, I'm skipping over the part where Thomas threw screaming fits at the park, and where I was disappointed at going swimming because I wanted a peaceful afternoon at home. But for some reason it's easy for me to forget about those parts as I consider what yesterday meant to my family. And I didn't even mention how the kids got to stay up late at the neighbor's house (yes, all the kids), or how I helped take down at the park, or how Lynnette and I put together a few bookshelves, and how we quietly watched the city's fireworks from afar on our porch.

Hm. Yep. A heck of a summer day.

Tender-hearted Children

A couple nights ago, a bird in our yard got injured by a dog. The kids were fascinated and tried to help it, and Tolman brought it home in a glove (because we've told them how dead animals can carry diseases). Unfortunately it was unable to move very well; it just sat, breathing, rarely opening it's eyes. I put it in the garage and put the kids to bed; I told them that I might have to put it down, but I would look one more time to see if it might survive. It was pretty broken up, and it seemed that it's legs were not going to work any more. I put it out of it's misery. (That was a horrible task that I hope I never, ever have to do again.)

I almost put it in the garbage, but I felt like it deserved more respect, so I buried it in the field in the back.

I went inside and told Tolman first. He was upset and started crying. He asked why, with a little bit of anger; I tried to explain about the bird being in pain and dying anyway, though I don't feel like I explained it very well. I spent a few minutes with him because he was very, very sad. He asked how I did it, and I told him.

The whole time I was talking with him, I was touched: he was extremely distraught over the loss of a small animal, one he had only known for a few moments. He valued that little life, and he deeply mourned it's passing with all his heart, even if only for a few minutes.

I then went into Ellie's room and told her. She sobbed, hard; seriously, it was like she put all her might into crying. She asked why as well, and I tried explaining again. She also asked me if I buried it; I'm so glad I was able to tell her that I did. She, too, asked how I did it; I didn't want to tell her, so I asked if she really wanted to know, and she said "no". I was surprised, but I'm so glad she had the presence of mind to say that. I would have told her if she really wanted, though I don't think it would have been good for her; I think that's something Tolman can handle better.

I spent a while with her as well; she cries over quite a few things, but it's rare that she'll cry so hard for so long. Again, I felt so gratified that the bird's life meant something to this child. I don't want too many experiences like this, but I'm so glad I went through it with them; it's so encouraging that they felt such concern for something meaningful.