"The Magazine"

I am sitting, somewhat patiently, somewhat impatiently in the Doctor's office. Naomi has another ear infection. We know these all too well. For a moment, a breif moment, Jake is playing well with his sister. I grab a magazine. I never get to read a magazine. It seemed sureal. I opened it up. The first article I came to. A mother was explaining why her kids are so well behaved. I felt like gagging...but I kept reading. She explained that she started when they were young. Apparently, all she had to do was let them know what was expected of them when they were little. Now, because of her great parenting skills, all she has to do is to is to "give her kids the look" and they miraculously never make a wrong decision. I literally felt like jumping into the pages of the magazine and giving that perfect mom a piece of my mind.

I have to admit it. I was the one who before I had kids, I was the perfect mom. I knew everything. My kids were never going to be irrevreverant in church. They were going to be the most respectful kids in their class and of course, they were never, ever going to disrespect me.

I only got through this one article before my 10 month old scampered over to a table, and lovingly threw every single flyer on the ground. As I hurriedly picked them up, my four year old was causing mischief behind me. The doctor's visit was fine. Jake did lose his basketball to the black lined garbage can basketball hoop. A small price to pay for keeping him occupied.

We then went to pick up William from school. I let the kids play on the playground while I enjoyed my only time of day interacting with other adults. Naomi couldn't keep the wood chips out of her mouth. William apparently hurt someone's feelings, and Jake decided to kick Naomi of the curb. "Why did you do that?" I asked. "She needs to know that I am stronger than her." I sat him on the curb to punish him. He smiled, jumped up, ran around the playground and turned his punishment into a game repeating the words, "I don't like you." I was humiliated. I handed my baby to a friend. I chased Jake around the playground. I sat him down again and threatened his life. He sat. I stood. Embarassed. He was yelling, "I don't like you." My friend asked, "Is he your hard one?" I couldn't answer. I didn't know what to say. How could I admit that no one in my house takes me seriously. My innocnet baby girl was all over the place at church the other day. With attitude. Everyone told me that girls are better behaved. I disagree. I looked at James through emotionally drained eyes. I smiled. "Well", I said. "She's a Ford." He smiled back.

There may be perfect children out there. They are probably being raised by perfect parents. I thought that I was the perfect parent. Heavenly Father knows me too well. Today is April Fool's Day. I think of Heavenly Father up there saying to me as lovingly as possible, "April Fool's".

I was a perfect parent. I knew it all.

And then I had my children.

Motherhood is amazing. How is it possible to be so emotionaly spent, and love someone so much? I am not a perfect mom. And it's a good thing. My life is never boring. I will never stop learning. Every flyer I pick up from the ground, every time I hear that my children don't like me, and every time I feel as if I am failing, I am only getting better. I am grateful I am not the mom in the magazine. She must not have kids as exciting as the Ford's. I am truly blessed.

Daddy's 33

James "cake" was a piece of PLAIN cheesecake and a piece of Boston Crean Pie. So, the story on the cheesecake. On our honeymoon, I made James take me to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. It was delightful. Until it was time for dessert. We got in a fight. James wanted a piece of PLAIN cheesecake. I refused to let him. I told him that if we were going to spend $4 on a piece of cheesecake, we needed to at least get Snickers or something else in it. He treid to plead his case. I refused to listen. We left mad...and with no desert.

So, almost eight years of marriage later, I have grown to respect his decision for PLAIN cheesecake. The funniest part. When I went to this deli to buy these deserts, they actually had a choice between PLAIN cheesecake and Snickers cheesecake. I laughed. I figured that I was getting James a piece of Boston Cream Pie anyway, so maybe a should get a piece of Snicker's cheesecake. I actually didn't even decide to get the PLAIN cheesecake until the VERY LAST second. I figured, "hey, it's HIS birthday. He can have the PLAIN."

I love you James! Thanks for putting up with me all of these years. You are a good man. A really good man.

Sometimes I treat James as if he is one of my children. I stayed up late Wednesday night to make him cupcakes to take into work. I could tell he was a little embarassed to walk into the hospital, being the lowest man on the totem pole, with two paper plates with green and yellow flowers bordering the edges holding an assortment of chocolate cupcakes with various colors of sprinkles covering the tops. I sent him out the door with a special birthday kiss and two plates of saran wrapped treats.

He must love me...

I think James' favorite present of the day, was the one that wasn't planned. Like almost all memorable memories. James was putting the boys to bed and we were wishing daddy a last happy birthday. To his surprise, William spoke up. "Daddy, you're better than geography." (William's current obsession) Jake was close behind. "Daddy, you're better than Spiderman."

The truth revealed. I would have to add. "Honey, you're better than my

Toyota Sienna Mini Van." Between you, our kids and my mini-van, all of my dreams have come true. We love you Daddy.

Sweet Moments

I experienced two great memories in the last 12 hours

1. Last night we were kneeling down for family prayer. It was Jake's turn. As we were all folding our arms, he popped his head up before he started and looked right at William.

"I'm not saying I'm grateful for you."

"Jacob," I sternly noted, "that is not nice."

Jake bowed his head again.

"Thank you for daddy and mommy and Naomi and me. Amen."

"I leaned over to him and prompted,

"and thank you for William."

"No. I'm not saying that."

After a while he fianlly conceded.

"Thank you for William."

However, he spoke so fast and he slurred his speech so much you could barley make out his words.

It sounded more like, "gjdisojfowengkfdnbkdflsnm."

Another perfect example of our strong willed Smooch.

2. We were almost late dropping William off at school today. I sped up to the curb, pushed the door open and told him to hurry fast and jump out.

He slowly descended the car and walked somberly to the curb.

I started pulling off when I notcied his head down and his motion, well, motionless.

I pulled back to the curb and rolled down my window.

"What's wrong, honey. You look sad?"

He lifted his eyes to see me. It was all too noticeable that he was fighting back tears.

"I prompted him again. "Honey, what's wrong?"

It was as if he was trying his hardest not to cry.

He finally spoke.

"It's just that I miss you so much when I'm at school."

Now I was the one fighting back tears. His pale, almost ghostlike eyes from living months without seeing the warmth of the sun looked at me as innocently as I had ever seen.

"You just wait." I said. "I will be there as soon as school gets out and I will give you the biggest "jump-hug" in the whole world."

His lips pulled a loose smile and he turned to enter the doors of the school.

The doors that keep us apart six hours a day, five days a week.

But those doors are also the gateway to some of the biggest and best jump-hugs in the world.

Confessions...of a mom with sick kids

My new confessions. My new self.

1. We took Naomi in to the ER to get pumped full of fluids due to dehydration. James luckily met me in the waiting room. They sent us back. They poked mercilessly into her little viens trying to stick an IV. I left. I love my child, but I couldn't handle it.

I excused myself to the waiting room. As I sat there, within five minutes, two teenage girls were brought in crying needing to see a phychatrist. I really felt woozy now. I was scared. I found a quiet bathroom and prayed for everything to be over. I don't do hospitals.

2. The ER doctor was one of our friends. James told her that he wasn't feeling well. She gave him some zofran (anti-nausea)

On Sunday, James was on call. I had to teach Sunday school and William had to give a talk in Primary. I was on my own. William woke up not feeling well and couldn't get off the couch. Stuck, I didn't know what to do. All of the sudden, INSPIRATION! I ran to the kitchen, grabbed an ice pack, popped open a can of coke, stuck a straw in and broke a zofran in half. A cocktail of champions. Within a half hour, William felt better. We were late for church, but hey, we got there.

3. Naomi threw up all over her floor in the middle of the night. I think I was delirious. I put her back in he crib and woke to find the throw up still there. I must not have cleaned it up.

4. O.K. So I wasn't delirious. It happened again the next night. I remember actually choosing not to clean up the vomit. If it didn't bother her, it didn't bother me.

5. I have my new favorite trick. There is absolutely NOTHING an ice pack and a can of coke cannot cure.

Last night, the boys were having a hard time going to sleep. I cracked their door to hear William laying in bed whining. "What's wrong, honey?"

"My head hurts, I might throw up and I think that's it's hard for me to stand up."

(I was impressed with his knowledge of sick symptoms. Way to go, Will)

Jake couldn't chime in fast enough.

"I..I...I..I I think I'm hungry."

Super Mom to the rescue.

I sped down the staircase. Ripped open the freezer. Grabbed two matching Spiderman ice packs. (thanks, Aunt Stacey). I tore open two bags of cheez-its. Unfortunantley in a controversial shape of Spongebob Squarepants. I quickly poured two opaque, dixie cups with cold (very cold) ice water. It has to be cold. If it wasn't going to be Coke (it was bedtime), it had to be cold.I returned to the room of the infirm. I lovingly placed the ice packs behind the small of their neck. I placed their ice cold plastic cups on the bed stand and in their hands, I personally lay the opened snack pack of contoversial shaped cheez-its. Their smiles melted my heart. Within minutes...minutes, they drifted off to sleep.

I am...just as my husband, a Doctor of Children. My children.

Smooch is 4

On March 18, 2009 our Jake turned 4! Anyone guess the theme of his birthday party? Yep. Spiderman.

We invited some of our neighbors and a few freinds from preschool over to celebrate with him. He had a web slinging birthday cake

Our 4 year old with his daddy.

Our 4 year old with his mommy

Our 4 year old with his new ocean life animals.

Unfortunantley, the turtles flippers popped of easily and I thought that they were the perfect choking hazard for his adorable little sister. Suffuce it to say, he now owns a flipperless sea turtle.

Last but not least,

daddy rode in on his biggest birthday present ever!

"Green! My favorite color!"

We love you smooch ma gooch. Today I asked him to buckle his seat best all by himself. He can do it very well if he's in the mood. His response. "I'm still just a little kid. You have to do it for me."

"Jacob, you are 4 years old now. You are a big kid. I know you can do it all by yourself."

"No, mom. Four is still a little kid. Five is a big kid. I'm still just a little kid."

I need your opinion...

I am trying to take pictures for above our mantle. I love black and whtes...but maybe I should just wait for Spring. I'm not sure. Anyway, if you had to choose...

Nine Months Old

Amazing. Astonishing. Babies grow all too fast. Thanks Scout for a wonderful, joyous, inspiring nine months. I wait for you to wake me up each morning to put a smile on my face with a simple, priceless hug. I love you.