Santa Frauds

Last week Dg7 asked me if Santa's elves were real. I said I didn't know, but somebody had to make all of those toys. It was weak. I sensed he believed I was lying. At some point the cute white lie becomes an ugly one.

"I've seen lots of Santas." "Yes, I know, he has many helpers," I offer. He's old enough to know the truth and what's more I believe it is right that he should be told the truth by us, that the time has come for him.

I worried briefly if it's a loss of innocence. Ultimately I come to the conclusion that he's growing and that how he sees the world is changing and will change. Much of how he sees the world will be from outside pressures his friends, t.v., school, etc... I guess with Santa I have an opportunity to change it on my terms and at the same time maintain a healthy level of trust with Dg7.

Let's face it, Santa is always a horrible lie. The magical myth masks the true power of the Savior and the salvation of mankind. The Savior's love, life, and atonement are where the real feelings of hope and charity come from that make the season bright to begin with.

Maybe this Christmas the only presents we give in our house will be ones we make. Wouldn't that be a switch. And maybe then we could dodge the long tendriled arm of master marketers who want it to be about them. It doesn't have to be. We decide it by what we do.

What a great blessing Dg7 is. I cherish the little guy.

I went too far

Today I watched an old cheesy sci fi with the boys. It's pretty bland and I wasn't too worried about them getting scared.

I was wrong. The doppleganger was too much and Dg7 didn't take it well. He was crying and dramatic and I was unsympathetic and remorseful.

During family prayer his younger brother prayed and it went something like this..."Dear Heavenly Father, please bless that the creepy guys with the scary black eyes will leave Dg7s mind so he won't remember it anymore. And also that he won't remember their long creepy black claws that they sneak up on you and get you with. And also please bless that he know that people won't really sneak up on you when they're really someone else, but you think their not and then they kill you." I appreciated the intent, but the level of detail could not have possilbly been comforting for Dg7.

I screwed up.

Opinionated

Wg4, "The world is important."
"It is?"
"Yeah, and so are refrigerators. Refrigerators are important to hold your food."
"Oh."

He disappears into the bathroom, me on the computer and a minute later.

"That's a pretty long poo poo for one man." Then he talks at length about turtles.
"And Dad?"
"Yes."
"I got stabbed through the hand one time with a fork."
"Oh yeah."
"Yeah. I was trying to use my magic to get the watermelon seeds off."
"Oh."
"But I couldn't do it."

And on and on. How is it possible not to love your kids?

The Baby

She felt the baby move yesterday. Very nice.

Gila Valley Temple Open House

As we toured the Temple today my father held the hands of my sons. I also held the hand of my oldest son. When we walked through the endowment room door I was struck that the very purpose of the temple is to forge the links between generations, sealing them together back to Adam. I don't think I'll ever forget that moment.

Another notable moment was during the 12 minute presentation before the tour when the speaker talked about doing baptisms for the dead in the Temple. Dg6 turned to me and said, "Are you gonna do that for Grandma Daisy?"
"I have to ask Paw Paw first. He has to give me permission. But then Mom will do it, and I will perform the ordinance."

I'm amazed at how well these young boys understand. What a great blessing they both are.

Honesty. Honestly!

Wg4 is a wonderful boy. But he is 4 and is often at the mercy of his own zeal. Today as we left the temple open house for the Gila Valley Temple Wg4 pinched his brother. I was not happy. I explained that not only would he not get any dessert the rest of the day, but that he would get to see his brother double up because he was going to get both desserts.

Wg4 was not happy, but he gets it. He's not supposed to pinch. I was being leaned on pretty heavily when Dg6's giant fried ice cream showed up so I resolved to make a lesson of it.

I sat Dg6 on my left knee and Wg4 on my right knee after Dg6 was finished, but there was still dessert remaining. "Dg6, are you willing to forgive your brother and let him forgo his punishment and have some of what's left of your dessert?"
"Yes."
"And Wg4, if you promise to stop pinching you may have some dessert. Do you promise to stop pinching." Faint mumbling. "What?"
"I think."
"No, that's not good enough, you must promise."
A thoughtful pause and then Wg4 says, "Then no, I don't want any dessert," and begins to slide off of my lap. I laughed out loud. It was wonderfully obvious he was being honest with himself and he was being honest with us. Several of us laughed out loud.
"Wait a minute come here. Why won't you promise?"
"It's too hard."
"Okay then, will you try your very best to stop pinching?"
"Yes."
"Dg6, is that good enough."
"Yes." (He would regret this as soon as the ride home.)
"Okay, you can have some dessert."

How can you not love the kid's integrity and his brother's willingness to forgive him. Good boys!

Brilliant Boy

As we prepared to have Dg6 take a test that would enable him to enter the gifted program in our district I asked him, "Do you want to be a part of the gifted program?"
"No. Well, will we get to learn about dinosaurs?"
I exhange a look with his mother, "Well, I don't know, maybe."
"Then no."

At this point I did what all good parents do, I incentivized.
"You get to take a half day from class and go to a class where you'll do different fun activities."
"No. I don't want to do that."

Step 3, drop it and make him go if he gets in.

A week later he came home and I asked, "How was your day pal?" He usually responds with "good" or "okay" or "I don't know." On this day he said, "I had to do a big book of homework today in school." I didn't know what that meant and I let it slide. Later I learned this was the day he was tested for entrance into the gifted program.

His scores???? 98th percentile for Verbal, 81st percentile for Quantitative, and 91st percentile for Non-Verbal. Scores between 30th and 70th percentiles are considered average. You must score over 97th percentile in any one category to enter the gifted program. Well done little man.

He pays attention. He works hard. He has natural ability. Now we just need to nurture it.

Nightmares

Last night Wg4 woke me at 2:30am. He'd had a nightmare. "I'm sorry buddy. Come here." I cradled him up into the bed and held him close.

"What was your nightmare pal?"
"I dreamed that aliens were coming and they were going to take me away from you guys."
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's okay pal. There are no real aliens. Don't worry." He was really scared.

As I've noted it is our rule that there be no kids in the bed during sleeping. After awhile I put him on the ground and told him I'd hold his hand. He locked on with a two hand death grip I thought might eventually pull me out of bed. I relented after a few minutes and told him he could come up. I put him on the inside, we lay close and I told him the rules; no snoring and no farting. I think we slept pretty well three in a bed.

Dg6 doesn't come in anymore. He used to and he would sleep on the ground and I would put my hand down and that worked. He was either obedient and endured his discomfort or a little braver. It does seem that all of Wg4's feelings are a little bigger. Higher highs and lower lows.

Apparently Wg4's nightmare is recurring. Nightmare's stink. This morning Wg4 informed me that he had obeyed my request and that no snoring or gas passing had occurred. What a ham.

A boy, a Bob, a bite, a blog

Last Summer we went to San Diego on vacation. We were there a week. Jared and Marza had gotten an Akita. He was a rescue dog. He was a few years old. He had been wonderful, tolerant with the kids. So when Wg3 was near Bob the dog's bed petting him we didn't really give it a second thought.

Bob the dog. That's what we called him. Sometimes just Bob, but mostly Bob the dog. Bob had been in some street fights and had surgery to fix up some mangled ears. I think they were still sensitive. So that when Wg3 was being obnoxious, and I'm sure he was... he's an active, even over-active boy, he hit Bob the dog in a sensitive spot. Bob snapped at him once. Thank God only once.

Naomi screamed and I came to pick Wg3 up. Damage assessment. I saw a gash on his chin. I remember thinking it was weird that it wasn't bleeding. I walked him into the bathroom to take a closer look. I think everyone else was in shock. I looked inside his mouth. There were two puncture wounds inside Wg3's mouth and a gash on his chin. All his teeth were in place. His tongue looked okay.

I carried Wg3 to the car. As I put him in the car Wg3 asked, "Dad, am I gonna die?" "No son, you're not gonna die. We're just going to the hospital." Uncle Jared went along with us to show me the way to the hospital.

When we got there we were seen right away. I don't want to insinuate that it was quick, we were there 3 or 4 hours, but we were admitted into an interior waiting room right away. Wg3 was very anxious about getting any "stingy stuff." To you and I this is a shot. I told him he wouldn't need one, that it would be okay. It turns out I was wrong.

All I remember between the time we were admitted and the time the doc showed up is that I wanted to comfort him. We lay together and we talked and I stroked his head and I felt helpless. When the doc showed up we talked about what would happen. To do the stitches they would inject Novocaine into the gash. This would numb the area for the stitches.

I turned him over to the doctor. He resisted of course and they pinned him down and he screamed and he cried. "My Dad said there wouldn't be any stingy stuff. Dad! Dad! Help me! My Dad said there wouldn't be any stingy stuff. Dad! Daddy!" I was right there. I was useless.

By all estimates the doctor was very quick. I was amazed actually at how quick he was. I'd guess 90 seconds for the whole thing. I wanted to cry though. I want to cry now. They gave him back to me and I tried to just hold him. I wanted to absorb his pain, to take it from him, but of course I couldn't.

He never cried during the bite. Maybe it just happened so quickly or he was stunned or it just wasn't a sensitive spot, but he never cried then, not until the Novocaine. It turns out the mouth is very vascular and they didn't do a thing for the puncture wounds inside the mouth. Sure enough, a few days later and you could hardly tell Bob had bitten him inside his mouth.

Wg4's back in the saddle, petting dogs. He's himself I'd say. He's gregarious and bold, intrepid even. We love him very much.

I don't blame Bob the dog any more than I blame Wg3. They are what they are. Jared and Marza got rid of the dog. I feel bad about that, but am grateful I don't have to see Bob anymore. The scar on Wg4's chin is almost invisible. We've tried to care for it. You'd never know it happened I think.

But I know it happened. I've never felt so scared, so useless, so worthless, so humble all in one day.

Inspiration

Lately I've been talking with another company about a job. NH is preggers. We love our ward. We love our neighborhood. We love our house. We love the elementary school. We love our neighbors...and we're contemplating moving. Hmmm.

I prayed and fasted Sunday. It was fast Sunday after all and as I sat on the stand a scripture came into my mind; "Be still and know that I am God." I know it was an answer to my prayer. I think I'll just cool my heels and see what happens. I know God loves me.

The VP comes down on Thursday to meet face to face. Hmmm.

Dg6 pulls his own tooth

His teeth have been loose for awhile. He is the oldest kid in his class. The other kids have lost a great many teeth and he's been anxious for his to fall out. He's asked me to wiggle his tooth. Today, they were really loose. He wanted them pulled. I tried to grab them with pliers and a paper towel, but I couldn't get a grip. He suggested the ol' tie it to a door and slam the door trick. His mom suggested we just tie it to the truck bumper instead of the door. I thought they were all bad ideas.

My Grandpa Miller pulled my teeth. Pliers and a hanky. We called Nonnie to ask if we were doing something wrong. We weren't. In the pic, Nonnie is on the phone for the event. It was an event.

In the end, he pulled both of his own bottom teeth. Who does that?

His brother was immediately interested in Dg6's tooth size vs. some shark teeth they have. Dg6s teeth are not even a little sharkish.

Ingenious

For a long time, wg4 has been the earilest to rise. There are times when he wakes the whole house. And then there are times when he's played for a long time in silence. Overwhelmingly though, I'd say he prefers our company. So the other day, when I heard him running across the second floor and into our room, I feared he may wake his mother early.

I was in the bathroom. I heard the footsteps stop. Then I heard the radio come on. I heard his footsteps pound out of the room and stop. Then I heard his footsteps pound again into our room. "Your alarm went off. It's time to get up!"
"It's only 6:30. My alarm didn't go off yet," says Mom.
"Yes it did."
"Wg3, it's only 6:30, my alarm doesn't go off until 6:45." A pause. The alarm goes off. She's up. As well engineered as I think a 4 year old gets. Well done, Wg4, well done.

A day in the life

Yesterday, March 01, 2010

I don't know why we use our garage door as the main door in our house, but we do. And, each morning when I leave the door goes up with a laborious vibrating vrrrrrrr. It is important to note that the boys room is over the garage and that on occasion opening the door on my early departure wakes them. On this day as I prepared to get into the truck and make the trek to work I heard a little voice cry out, "Dad!" I thought there was a fire or something and headed back toward the garage opening when I see wg4 running through the garage in only pajama bottoms, hair mussed. He jumps into my arms. "Dad, I wanted to give you a hug before you left for work." Oh, is that all I think. Is that all, wow, what a wonderful way to start the day.

Later I got a call at work from dg6, "Dad, can we have a yard sale?"
"I don't know ask Mom and if she's okay with it so am I. What would you sell?"
"Yogurt and pickles and blueberries." The blueberries give away that he's looking in the fridge.
"Wait, you mean you want to have a stand where you can sell things?"
"Yeah."
"Son, I'm not sure people will stop to buy pickles or yogurt or blueberries. What would you charge?"
"$5"
"$5 is a lot son. It has to be a good deal for people or they won't buy anything from you and it has to be something that people actually want."
"Okay, what should we sell?"
"I don't know son, since this is your endeavor why don't you think about it."
"Dad, if you wanted to earn money what would you do?"
"I'd ask my parents for a list of chores and negotiate an allowance."
"Well, I'm not gonna do that."

Then wg4 gets on the phone. "Dad, I want armor and a sword so I can be a real knight."
"Well, you already have a sword and we could make you some armor out of the cardboard box upstairs."
"No Dad, real armor." At the Renaissance Festival he tried on some pretty cool gauntlets, so I think I know where he's going. They were cool and expensive! So, not to always run to cost I say, "Son, a full suit of real armor is very heavy and you're very small, I don't think you could lift it." A brief silence.
"Okay, we can make my armor out of the box." A bullet dodged.

On the way home I had a raging headache. We went for pizza. We know the owner. The boys call him by his last name which he enjoys.

Kait came over for family home evening. This Saturday she auditions for theater at the U. She's not ready. I suggested maybe she doesn't really want to do it, that she's been counselled by her instructor that she doesn't do better in competition because she is unprepared and yet she's still unprepared. She argues that maybe it isn't really the school she wants to go to by way of explaining why she's unprepared. She asks if I think she's lazy. I say, "Yes." I think it's time for her to get with the program or move on with her life. She's good, but she doesn't work hard yet. It's time she work hard.

My Paleontologist

The other day I asked Dg6, "When you become a paleontologist, what will you name the first new (as yet undiscovered) dinosaur you find?"

Hmmm. "Trevilosaurus."
"Why Trevilosaurus?"
"I don't know."
"Well, when you get big and discover a new dinosaur I'm going to remind you that when you were little you said you would name the first dinosaur you discovered Trevilosaurus."
A smile. "Okay." Pause. "Hey, can we put it on the Internet?"
"Sure."