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."

I like this girl...I hope you do too ( A young Julianne?)

Tireful

Today after kindergarten I asked dg5 what was his favorite part of kindergarten. He said, "The ice cream." "You got ice cream after school," I said, "What about during school?" "I don't know," he said. Hmmmm.

Everyone called to see how his day went. When his sister called he noted that the day was, "tireful." His mother thought this was cute and kept using it. I explained that he'd never get out of kindergarten if she didn't stop.

Dg5 told his mother he was playing in the sandbox and that the other kids kept running through a watch he was making for Lizzy out of the sand. None of the kids would play with him he said. His mom said just to introduce himself and ask if the kids wanted to play. He said it makes him nervous. It's time to learn some coping skills little man. Maybe they'll be the most important things you learn in school. Dear Heavenly Father, please bless him that those skills may come quickly.

I overheard dg5 talking to PaPa YD. dg5 was asked if he learned anything. dg5 said, "I learned one thing," a pause, "I learned how to kiss my brain." Who knows where he gets that from?

The Future Paleontologist

This morning dg5 starts his formal education. For some reason I feel the need to document everything, like he ate dinosaur oatmeal for breakfast and he wore a T-rex shirt his first day. We leave in a few minutes. We'll take pictures and generally help him to feel the sense of excitement one should feel as they begin a new adventure, as they begin an education. I'm grateful we live in a country where dg5 can easily get an education.

A Father's Blessing

Tomorrow dg5 begins his formal education. A series of events have led us to this day, I guess starting all the way back with his birth. He's grown and he's a beautiful, bright, brilliant boy.

Tonight dg5's Mother put him to work packing his lunch. For his first day he's chosen a plain bagel with strawberry cream cheese, a Danimals crushable strawberry yogurt, a water, strawberries and a butterscotch pudding for desert. I hope all of that is brain food.

In his class are Lizzy (Lizard), Briant, Spencer, and Benjamin. He knows them all. They are our neighbors. We attend church with their families. During his kindergarten orientation we got to see his class; there is a playground (kindergarten only) just outside his door. The orientation was nice and I think it broke the ice. He's excited about school.

Nh and I disagreed about the bus. Dg5 wanted to ride the bus, but I didn't want him to ride. I figured, his mom is home, she should take him until he's bigger. I rode the bus. There are bullies on every bus. I know, I was one of the bullies. At orientation Briant's family heard of our quandary, offered a ride since they had an extra seat anyway. It is a nice solution to our problem.

Her older children will walk him to class and after school they will get him to their car. He will receive a dollar on his first day for the ice cream man after school.

In the end I've suffered more over his impending school than he. I feel that the beginning of school is the beginning of a routine and a scheduling madness that turns one day into a week, one week into a month and one month into a season and a season in to a year. In my heart I'm already sending him on his mission. At once I love that he'll start school and that we'll be able to share in that experience, it's that inevitable sign that he will grow and move on. Right now I'm not ready for that experience. It really is illogical, but it's real.

Every year before school Naomi's father would use the preisthood with which he is entrusted to give each child a Father's blessing. Tonight I blessed both our boys in preparation for school. It's not lost on me however, who has blessed who.

Grrrr

Tonight wg3, almost 4!, pooped in the tub. What?! Grrrr. I mean Grrrr. Kids can have too much fun.

Punishment

I was talking to Paw Paw tonight and the boys were destroying a mat their mother has for aerobics. "Quit it," I said. But it didn't stop.

After I got off the phone I was miffed and very politely put the boys in the corner in timeout. Nose in the corner, no touching or leaning, hands at the sides. Paw Paw used to do this with me and I loathed it. After their release dg5 speaks.

"Dad, thanks."
"What for?"
"Putting me in timeout. I deserved it."
I was speechless. What do you say, "You're welcome." Whose kid is this anyway? He's a good kid.

Those were good times

Tonight dg5 and I were reading one of his books.

"I remember when you guys bought me this book."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I couldn't even pick it up off the shelf." It's a dinosaur encyclopedia.
"How do you remember that?"
"I just do. I was like 3 or 4. Those were good times." !!!
"Really. Are these good times?"
"Yeah, but not as good."
"Why not?"
"We didn't have to work as much then."

Family Night

Tonight we went swimming as a family. It was great fun. Nh and dg went off to do an obstacle course and a slide while wg and I goofed off and chased each other.

After a while I got out and wg entertained himself while dg and Nh continued to play elsewhere. I was amazed that our blue lipped beauty continued to play and entertain himself for so long. Other kids jostled him, hit him and he couldn't have cared less. I wanted to throttle some of the bigger kids.

I stood on the edge with a smile while he played. My heart quickened as he ventured into deep waters. The water just over his chin, kids splashing and flopping and screaming, but every time he would work his was to better water, that same blue lipped grin on his face. I admired that. I thought the fear would grip him since he can't swim, but it didn't. He soldiered on.

Wg is a great kid, except when he yells at his brother that he hates him. Wg doesn't have a host of coping skills yet so we try to explain why that isn't cool. And just when we think we're getting somewhere dg takes the torture to a whole new level and wg lashes out and hurts him and I say, "See that's what you get, quit teasing him." Revenge. Oh yes, don't teach them that's okay. "Wg it isn't okay to hurt other people."
"But Dad he called me Doodie head!" The travesty! The inhumanity! What are you gonna do?

It was a fun evening, thanks Nh for good times.

Dg5, what a ham!

Today dg5 called me "Dude."
I said, "Don't call me dude, dude."
And he said, "What am I supposed to call you Steve?"

You're definitely not ugly.

Today we were at the checkout counter at Target. The boys were riled up. Wg3 looked right at the cashier and said, "Your ugly!" Grrrr. I whipped him around, hoping she was oblivious to the insult and teased, "No your ugly!" and quickly wrestled him away and out the door.

Outside I gave him a serious tongue lashing. I was ticked. I know he's only three, but I also know he knows that saying someone is ugly is mean. I was very upset.

The weird thing is that Wg3 is a people person, very affable. As we walked out of the restaurant after dinner he said very adultishly to the people dining on the patio, "Are you folks havin' a good dinner?" I don't think they heard him and I don't think he stopped to hear the answer, but just a little evidence that he is a very genial fellow.

A little later at the Supermarket I broke off from the pack and did some tactical shopping. When I got back wg3 rushed to tell me he had told the man behind us that he "is definitely not ugly." What are you gonna do, he's trying.

"Dad, don't! It's poison!"

This one makes me laugh.

I took the boys geocaching for the first time today. However, we went out into the desert mid-day and when we got back we were all hot. So I took them upstairs to wet down their little heads and prevent a brain fry. As we got into the bathroom I grabbed a spray bottle and called wg3, "Come over here buddy."

"Dad, don't! It's poison!"
"What? What's poison?" I thought nh had gone crazy and put a cleaner in there where the boys could reach it.
"That bottle. Dg5 peed in it and I squeezed bleach wipes in there."
"Dg5, did you pee in this?"
"No." But clearly he was lying.
"Why would you pee in this bottle?"
"I don't know."
"Ah, so then you did pee in it!"
"Yes. Sorry." Sorry? "I barely got any in it though." Some consolation.
"Dg5. I don't care that you peed in it, though I don't want you to do it again, but don't lie to me son. Okay?"
"Okay." It's poison...that makes me laugh.

It's just a piece of flagstone

I'm laying flagstone down on the grass in front of the garden so NH has a path to walk along with our wearing a path in the grass. I cut away the sod, remove the grass and place the perfectly fit flagstone in the hole. Occasionally, I have to take a 4lbs. sledge and a chisel and remove small chunks. The sprinklers came on, so I resigned my commission, but left the sledge where I would pick up next day.

We had friends over and their kids and our kids were running in the sprinklers. When I left I never gave it a second thought that they might find my sledge. Well, they did.

I think it was wg3 first. He began to pound away at the piece freshly laid. I was upstairs and the other children's mother was outside with the kids. It wasn't long and her daughter joined in the fun, both the same age - 3. Dg5 is said to have taken a swipe, but without breaking anything. As the other children's mother said, "Hey, I don't think you guys should be doing that," dg5 responded, "No, it's okay, my Dad doesn't care." What???

I handled it all very reasonably. I walked out with wg3 and said, "Do you think I laid this flagstone here so you could destroy it with my hammer?"

"Yes." Did he really say yes????

"Actually wg3, no, no I didn't. What should your punishment be?"

"Time out would be good."

"That doesn't seem like enough."

"Okay, some time out and a soft swat on the bottom." Don't be so hard on yourself I think sarcastically. I can't make myself punish him even though it seems right to me that I should.

"Wg3. I'm not going to punish you, but DO NOT even think about doing it again, and you're gonna clean this mess up pal. Deal?"

"Deal." Cute kid.

We scored a goal

I've been feeling pretty crummy for the kids I coach. My expectations weren't high, just please Lord let them score a goal. Well, finally the curse is broken. We scored. I felt relieved.

Many of the kids are coming back for the summer session of soccer. I'll get to coach them again and I'm glad because they're great kids. The next goal??? How about a win? Here's hoping and yes I know we're not keeping score, but try to tell the kids not to keep score.

When we got in the van after the game I offered high excitement about our goal.
"But we got killed," dg5 said!
"I know son, one thing at a time. We scored."

Lord thanks for the score. It would mean a lot to the kids if they could win. Can we get some help with that too?

Pills

I haven't taken my pill for awhile now. It's for anti-anxiety. Well, wouldn't you guess, my emotions are a little out of control. They are hard to control anyway and at times I feel very overwhelmed. I'm feeling very sensitive.

I hate the idea that I need a magic pill, that somehow I'm broken. I feel broken.

Tonight consumption begins again. I've contained my feelings pretty well with a lot of vigilance, but I don't think it can last. Better I'm broken than my family.

Drilled

When we practice the kids like to play against the parents at the end. It's fun. One of the kids' brother comes and we let him play if he walks. He' probably 8 or 9. Well yesterday he booted one and drilled dg5 right in the face. It was hard to see.

I comforted him briefly, but the physical pain wasn't the hardest part for him and he didn't return without much coaxing. What was really hard was all of the attention everyone paid him or that he perceived they were paying him. He spoke of being "nervous" in his throat. I'd like to get him back in the saddle, but if his problem is anxiety what the heck do you do about that?

We're going to keep plugging along like a good family and hope either it goes away or God grants me the wisdom to help him through. He's such a brilliant, wonderful boy and it WAS a wicked hard shot to the mug.

A day at the beach

Can you have plumber's crack at 5?

So we spent a day at the beach. Grandma Brown got the boys a set of beach toys. We made castles, then we made castles close to the tide to see if they would withstand the inrushing water. They didn't. At some point during the day, I think during the castle making, dg5 said, "Dad, this is the best day ever." It was a pretty good day. Near the end wg3 asked to be buried in the sand and his brother quickly joined in. Sweet boys, that's what they are, just sweet boys.

Peeing in the Ocean

I'm not against peeing in the ocean. I think it's okay. I don't remember any time when I've done it, but I'm sure I have. So when wg3 said he had to pee at the beach I told him to just go in the ocean.

"No. You're just kidding," he coyly says.

"No, really, go ahead. It's okay."

So off he went. A moment later I realized my mistake as wg3 marched calf deep into the water and dropped trow. I cried out to him and he stopped. We pulled up his pants and waded in waist deep. "Okay, now you can go."

Look, peeing in the ocean isn't an elegant solution it's convenient, but with a little discretion it can be done. Wg3 just didn't get the discretion part.

Reboot

I've dreamed dark dreams tonight. One and I wake up. I shake it off, sleep, another and I wake up. I remember at least 5 of them in my first three hours of sleep.

I wake up and I get up after the last one. It's 1:13 and I am awake and I hear the t.v. on downstairs. We didn't leave the t.v. on though. I check on dg5 because he is alone. wg3 has long since been in our bedroom. I head downstairs. The television is off. I check the doors and turn on some outside lights. Trying to break the nightmare cycle I turn on the t.v. It's between COPS and YoYo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble. Part of me wants COPS, but thinks it will do very little to assuage my nightmares. I choose YoYo Ma - who is not a woman by the way.

For the last hour I hear instruments new to me from around the world; Iran, China, India and an Argentinian woman in stretch pants suffering what looks like an epileptic gyration while she plays something that looks like a bagpipe. In my opinion the greatest instrument of all is the human voice, which they showcase beautifully.

It's over an hour now and I'm tired. I wonder if a father can will the nightmares of his children to come to him. I hope they sleep well and dream well. I go in again now and who knows. Maybe that dark man will come to me again, maybe I will dream of my grandparents, or maybe I will, in that misty place, find my children again and my soul can rest peacefully too.