What Will He Think of Next?

Sometimes our boys have a different thought process than I do. Tyler, our nine-year-old, is usually easier for me to follow. He's like me in many ways. Six-year-old Shawn, however, usually seems to be thinking in an entirely different pattern than I am. He's much more like his Daddy. Somehow, I'm constantly surprised by what Shawn will think of next. 

Often, what he thinks of next is not very wise. I've had reason to ask him some strange questions.

"So you're telling me that you decided to see if you could get to class from the lunchroom with your eyes closed, and that's why you ran smack into the pole and have a big knot on your forehead?"

Sometimes, though, he thinks up things that are pretty funny, as most kids do. Who knows what he was thinking this weekend when we discovered "baby bananas" at the grocery store. He was a bit unhappy to not get to take them home. Apparently, he wanted to let them grow up!

Sunday afternoon we also enjoyed another gem from his mind, coming completely at random.

Shawn: "What was Jesus called when he was born?"
Me: "Ummm, Jesus?"
Shawn: "No, that's not right."
[long pause]
Daddy: "BABY Jesus???"
Shawn: "THAT'S IT!"

I may not always know what he's thinking, but (most of the time) it will be a joy to find out!

Do your kids think more like you do, or is it usually a surprise?

Hear Those Sleigh Bells Ring

I love Christmas concerts. I love adult choirs singing of how special the season is. I love children's choirs showing everyone the joy and fun of the season. I love jazz bands setting the Christmas mood. The sounds that trigger the most memories for me, though, are those of concert bands giving a special ring to holiday tunes.

Image Courtesy http://www.freefoto.com/

When I was in junior high and high school, the Christmas concert was one of the most enjoyable concerts of our year for band. In 8th grade the Christmas concert let us highlight how much we'd improved, since we'd only been playing a year and a half. In 9th grade and then throughout high school, the fall had been filled with marching music, so Christmas was a fun time to enjoy new, fun pieces before we began working on our spring concert music for contests.

In my high school band, there was a Christmas song that became a tradition for us each year. Since the junior high and high school bands played a joint concert, junior high players learned of the song early and looked forward to being in high school to play them. We loved playing the song Sleigh Ride. The arrangement was a little challenging, which made it fun for us, and the percussion had a great time with it. Most importantly, the first chair trumpet player got to play the horses neigh at the end!

Looking at this from where I am now, it doesn't seem as exciting. Being a part of these fun times was so wonderful then, though! I still smile and think of some of my friends from junior high and high school when I hear Sleigh Ride.

This week I had the privelege of attending a junior high Christmas concert at my school. It was so wonderful for me to hear these kids and to see them enjoy what they were doing. They didn't play Sleigh Ride, but they had some Christmas tunes that will be memorable for them.

Do you have a special memory involving Christmas music?

It is My Room

This is no longer my home.

 

This is "Nana and Papa's house" or sometimes "Nana's house" (the boat, camper, 4-wheeler, etc. are always referred to as "Papa's," so I guess referring to the house as "Nana's" is a fair trade-off). I lived here from 1985 until I went to college, and even then it was home for summers, holidays, and weekends. It's changed a little since then. We added "the addition" of a dining room, office, and garage the year after we moved in. My parents added a sun room and front garage when they had to repair damage from a tornado--the second tornado to cause damage. Just this past year Papa replaced his shop with a much larger one for housing camper, boat--and this past summer a swimming pool.

My parents still make me feel "at home." I still refer to going to their house as "going home." Since I also refer to returning to our house as "going home," the boys sometimes get a little confused about what "going home" really means. In fact, between our actual house, Grandma's house where they stay after school and other times, and Nana and Papa's house, it's as if they have 3 homes. That must be a pretty cool feeling. But this is not really my home anymore.

This is no longer my room. (This is also Shawn not resting.)

This was my room when we moved here. I was an only child; I got the bigger bedroom of the two that were not the master bedroom. The other bedroom became a guest room--the room where people stayed who didn't actually live there.

This room, too, has seen changes. It has seen decorations for an elementary school girl. It's housed a water bed for a high school student. It's even contained my grandmother's bedroom suit for an adult daughter and son-in-law.

I gave up claim to this room after the last summer I really spent here in 1995, since after that I had an apartment of my own. Once HoneyBear and I got married in 1998, this was certainly no longer my room, though we did visit it. HoneyBear no longer had to stay in the guest room.

The guest room became "Tyler's room" after he was born, then became "the boys' room" when Shawn was added to the mix. They had twin beds, toy boxes, and individualized posters at the head of each bed. It was their room.

Last summer my mom decided that the boys needed more space. They had lots of toys in their room, and when they visited they often stayed a week, so they wound up fighting over space to play. (As if they didn't have this whole house with lots of unused rooms to play in!) She decided that they needed the bigger room of the two.

So the twin beds were moved into "my" room. My grandmother's bedroom suit was moved into the guest room. Nana did ask me if it was alright, and of course it was; it really was logical to give two playing, growing boys the bigger room. So the room that has housed girl things and a water bed became a place of boy things and twin beds.

Then I came home for the first time after the big switch. I was put in the guest room. The room where family and friends only stayed briefly and then went home. The room that belonged to no one. The room HoneyBear had slept in when we came home before we were married.

My room was now the boys' room, and I was in the guest room.

It really does make sense. They're using the space more effectively, and it's nice to see them playing there. They also visit more than we do, going to Nana and Papa's house for weeks in the summer and additional weekends when we don't all come in. So it works out well. It's now their room.

Of course, at one point while we were visiting over Thanksgiving my mom started discussing other rooms in the house that could be made into bedrooms.  She wondered if it was time for the boys to EACH have a room here. Then we'd be out of my room and the guest room! That may be taking it too far. I don't know that I want to sleep in the sun room or the living room or the office.

Besides, the boys would want those rooms, too!

So they can't have the guest room. It's my room now!

Talk About the Weather

For some people, the weather makes good small talk. We've heard jokes and seen cartoons about talking about the weather at parties and gatherings. Like a farmer, though, my weather talk is often a complete conversation.

I have multiple sclerosis. When I visit the weather channel's site for Weather and Your Health and go to the Aches and Pains page, the health conditions section lists my disease. Weather can have a huge effect on my feelings of health and well-being, on my pain levels, and on my fatique. So to me, weather is not just small talk.

When it's too hot, I can easily get overheated. In fact, heat sensitivity is one of the most frequent symptoms of multiple sclerosis. Conversely, when it's too cold my body hurts. Much like those with arthritis or fibromyalgia, changes in the weather and the barometric pressure affect me, as does humidity. There are days I have to modify my activity, and I "blame it on the rain."

Fortunately, it's a pretty day today, and warmer than yesterday. It's late November, but it's nice to be outside enjoying Tyler on his Papa's new ATV. I'm enjoying the weather today.

Shall we talk about the weather?

He Graduated from Obedience School-Shouldn't He OBEY?

Our sweet little pug puppy turned a year old last weekend.


Three days later was our final beginning obedience class--and graduation. (On a side note, our older pug/terrier mix graduated from obedience class after just turning one year old as well, and since he was no longer a "terrier terror puppy" we saw an amazing difference in his behavior.)


Our sweet pug had a few "challenges" during the graduation. The biggest "challenge" was his total lack of desire to obey the DOWN command. HoneyBear had to get pretty forceful.


Once he figured out it was serious, though, he accepted it. He wasn't happy about it. His little double-curled tail dropped to the floor, no longer curling. But he stayed DOWN.


He even obeyed the DOWN and stay command later with no problems.


Our "baby" graduated--complete with goofy cap and "Pomp and Circumstance"!


So why did he repeat our typical Monday morning routine of barking like crazy at the sounds of the trash truck, the recycling truck, and all other assorted noised, without paying the least bit of attention to "no!" or "Rolly-Polly, No BARK!" or any other variations of the same? He graduated from obedience school; why won't he OBEY?!?

For some reason, this (repeated) situation reminded me of something I was told as we were preparing for our son's baptism last December. He had accepted Christ (on his own, I might add!) a few months prior, but it was important to us that Nana and Papa be at the baptism service, so we waited. It turned out to be the Sunday before Christmas, which was pretty special. It was also a Lord's Supper service, so that Tyler was baptized and partook of the Lord's Supper in the same service. It was very special (even if what we mainly remember is his feet coming up out of the baptismal...)


Just before the baptism, a friend approached me. Her son had been baptized a few months before, and she had some good advice.

Don't expect him to behave perfectly just because he accepted Christ and showed that through baptism.

Wow. She was right. I guess I expected him to be completely changed. Yes, he was a new creature, but he was also still a sinner--and a little boy.

Just like graduating from obedience school doesn't mean our puppy will be completely obedient, Tyler's salvation and baptism does not mean he'll be perfect either. It just means he has Jesus to intercede for him and he has forgiveness for those sins. Which is still pretty miraculous.

Say You're Sorry

We experienced one of those moments this week that made for a great "teaching time." Unfortunately, it didn't work out as well as I might have liked.

Friday was "pajama day" for the boys, as it was the last day of school before a week of Thanksgiving break. They had some adorable pajamas (which color coordinated with their backpacks--I was very impressed, since I wasn't involved in the purchase), so of course I made sure to get some pictures. Our impromptu photo shoot was pretty typical for the boys--they started out pretty silly.

First just Tyler was silly.


Then Shawn joined in the fun.


Asking them to be serious doesn't always get the desired result.


But eventually comes a great moment!


Once we finished our pictures, it was (past) time to get to school. Unfortunately, Shawn got in a bit of a hurry. In the rush to get to the vehicle he ran over Tyler and knocked him to the ground. It was time for an apology from Shawn.

I know we can't be the only family struggling with apologies, but Shawn seems to struggle more than most kids. Of course his SPD (sensory processing disorder) means he is less aware of his body, so he does tend to have greater need for apologizing, but the apologies aren't typically very effective. In this situation, knocking Tyler over brought on a "sorry dance." Shawn jumped around Tyler on the ground singing "sorry, sorry, sorry sorry..." in a little tune of his own. Obviously, this "sorry" didn't mean what we as parents might wish it to mean!

It was time to try something new. After ensuring Tyler was okay, I shared with Shawn our new plan for apologies.

Me: "Shawn, when you need to apologize for something, first say the person's name. Then say 'I'm sorry for...' and say what you did. Finish by saying 'I'll try not to do it again' and really mean that!"

Shawn's first attempt: "Tyler, I'm sorry........what am I supposed to say?"

Me: "Say 'Tyler I'm sorry for...' and whatever you did. Then say 'I'll try not to do it again.'"

Shawn: "Tyler, I'm sorry for...whatever you did!"

He did finally make it through an apology, and I made it through his apology without laughing.. We'll have to see how this works in the future!

Taking it for Granted

I grew up in Arkansas. I marched in contests in War Memorial Stadium in Little Rock, where the Arkansas Razorbacks play 1 or 2 football games each year. I very distinctly remember watching the Razorback Basketball team in 1990 go to the Final Four. I was a Razorback.

Then I went to school at the University of Arkansas. I marched in the Razorback Marching Band. I played in the Hogwild Band for basketball and even played at a home watch party during the Basketball National Championship game in 1994. I was really a Razorback.

My husband was born in Alabama, but moved to Arkansas as a toddler. He grew up in Northwest Arkansas. His uncle was a Razorback cheerleader. He was a Razorback.

He started college at a small Christian school in Missouri, but transferred to the UA. He walked on to the Razorback football team. He played with some guys that are NFL players now. He was most definitely a RAZORBACK!

Now, I keep up with the teams. I wear my Razorback apparel proudly. I bemoan the game day traffic, but love being a part of the atmosphere. We've decorated our den in Razorback gear and taught our kids the fight song and how to call the Hogs. We're a Razorback family.

We don't choose to purchase season tickets, but do love to go to games. We very much enjoyed going to a game this weekend. I loved seeing the marching band pregame show and remembering when I was a part of the U of A on the field.

I remembered being a part of the Big A on the field, while HoneyBear remembered running through the Big A (though ironically he and I were never actually on the field at the same time!).

While sitting in the stands and hearing some people around us talk about what a big deal it was for them to make it to Northwest Arkansas for this game, I considered how easy it is to take even football teams for granted. Picking up tickets a few days before the game? No problem! Being at a nationally televised game? We've done that countless times--and been on the field, too. Cheering from the stands at a game that determined bowl-eligibility for a team? Pretty cool, but no big deal. Being a part of a great football conference, such as the SEC? Well, of course--that's why we moved from the Southwestern Conference!

What else in our area do we take for granted? Being able to easily access a local church with wonderful programs for our kids? Yep, I expect that. Having lots of options for when and how I worship? Of course! Being in a community that has great Christian radio stations? Pretty cool, but no big deal.

Oops. I guess there's more than being a Razorback that's easy to take for granted here. And I'm so thankful for it!