Quotables, take 2

Savanna has taken to using big-ish words lately, mostly when she's angry. It is VERY hard to keep a straight face when she states emphatically, "Mom, it's the intentioner." It's even harder not to laugh when the big word makes a little sense, like today, when I said, "Savvy, you need to be nice," and her yelled response was: "Quit REMINDING me!"

Jaxon, today:
"Mom! I made an A-B-A pattern with the couch pillows!" (Indeed he had. Solid pillow, patterned pillow, solid pillow.)

"Mom, today our teacher did something really weird."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. There was a kid stuck up at the top of some of the playground equipment, and--"
"Did she climb to get him?!"
"YES! It was SO WEIRD!"
"Well....actually Jax, that's kind of cool, since he needed help getting down."
"Yeah, but it looked like she was a grown-up playing on the equipment."

Quotables

Savvy, when I told her to come inside because it was dark out, kept putting her hands out, palms-up and saying emphatically, shaking her head, "You can't DO this to me, Mom! You can't!" When I burst out laughing (couldn't help it), she let a smile sneak onto her face, and said, "You can't catch me!" and then darted away. I shrugged and began to walk to the door....she followed me in.

Jaxon, when I asked him what two songs he wanted to hear before bed: "Well, Mom, [pause, smacks lips] I would like to sing you something I learned in school today." Then he begins to sing, "One, one, one, you're so much fun, fun, fun. Two, two, two, I sure like you...." By the time he got to "Seven, seven, seven, simply heaven, heaven, heaven," I was done for. Totally crying.

Reed, during a discussion we were having about choices and the religion you choose, at one point swooned and fell back on his covers, saying dreamily, "I love being a Mormon!" Earlier in this conversation, he said fiercely with clenched fists, "I will never give up being Mormon!" This conversation, too, had me in happy tears by the end.

Savvy: "So, Mom...." She brushes the hair out of her eyes and purses her lips together. "I'm crushing on Surf and Cody. Who are you crushing on?"
            "Um....Daddy. Always Daddy. Because...."
 Savvy: "Because he's your husband! Right?"
            "Right."
Savvy: "And you only crush on Daddy, right? Because you go on dates?"
            "Right. And he's my husband."

Jaxon: Mom, I saw Reed at school today. It almost made me cry because I missed him after I saw him.

Reed: Mom, I wish Jax was in my class.

sweet little nothings

I was happily babysitting this darling bundle, Toryn....

 

...and Savvy was right next to me, at baby Toryn's head, quietly looking at her and occasionally extending one finger to stroke her soft cheek or smooth her silky hair. Suddenly Savvy points at Toryn's eyes and says in a delighted, high, quiet voice, "Mom! Her flashes! Her teeny tiny flashes!" I was confused for a split-second and then got it--and Savvy continued in the same excited voice, "I have big flashes. And you have big flashes. You wear makeup on your flashes. But Toryn has tiny flashes! They are soooo cuuuute." And then she giggled and patted Toryn's head.

Yesterday I had Jaxon in the clinic because of a high fever that wouldn't go away. While we waited for a long time to get his strep-test results back (negative, "just" an upper respiratory infection), Jaxon remained on the exam table, too tired to bother sitting up in one of the chairs. His eyes, which were already droopy to begin with, began to close and I wondered if he would fall asleep on the table. Suddenly his eyes popped open and he said, "Mom, I'm just going to close my eyes for a little while. I might sleep because it feels good." Then he closed his eyes and lay still, while I admired his insanely long lashes and felt sad for him. After a little while, he moved from his side to his back and said, "I'm cold." I said, "Are you? I could hold you." And he said, "But I know how to make myself warm." And with a little smile, he pulled his arms into his shirt, pulled his knees up under it, and lay there on his back like a turtle in its shell, content and cute.

Reed is into extreme statements. For instance, when one aspect of his day doesn't go well, it is "the worst" day of his life. Understandably, I have experienced some exasperation in trying to teach him that a day can be mostly good, even if he has to do homework or clean a toilet or isn't allowed to get a candy bar at the store. But I actually like this habit when it's turned on its good side--like when he got to play at his best friend's house for a few hours: "Mom, this is the best day I have ever had!" or when I let him have a third cookie: "You are the best mom EVER" or when he's having fun with Savvy and Jax: "I love you more than anything in the whole wide world."

Savvy is into shrugging, as in the shrug and "uh-uh" that means, "I don't know." Her favorite thing is to ask me a question when she knows I'm distracted: "Mom, is my hair blue?" -"Uh-uh...(shrug)"....then she repeats my answer with the clarification: Shrug + "I don't know". She's also into narrative prayers, and I am loving it. "And please bless that we will have fun. And thank you for our food. And Jesus Christ is my friend, and he loves me, and he loves mama and daddy and Reed and Jax and me, and he will come to my house and hug me, and I will say I love you and he will say I love you and I will say bye and he will say see you later"....

Lately Jaxon is discovering the beauty in silence. He has always been, how should I say....good at relaxing? Kind of a chill homebody. But last Sunday something must have really spoke to his heart, because as the kids sat at the counter while I made waffles, he said, "Mom, can we whisper? I like when it's quiet." So we whispered for about ten minutes, and he sat there with the biggest smile on his face and the sweetest sparkle in his eyes. We had a brief discussion of what sort of environment we need to cultivate for the Spirit to be in our home, and it was just a time that was full of peace.

Reed has walked (by himself) home from school and to school from home a few times this last week. He is happy as can be. (You know, happier than he's ever been in his whole life, in the language of extremes) I'm happy that he's happy, and I'm learning to (very slowly, with clenched fists and jumpy-stomach) let go. It's exciting and unnerving and wonderful. 

Lastly, not leastly, we are house-hunting. I'm hesitant to say more until we have something solid, but rest assured that I will document the journey and keep all of you posted!

The case of the rogue sock wrinkle

For Thanksgiving just a couple months ago, we decided to go to California to see my sister, Abby, and her family. The trip there is six hours, and about four hours in, we were ready for a break. We stopped at an Arby's, got our orders (which were fantastically disgusting, I'd like to say) and sat down at a table. There was only one more family in the dining area, sitting all the way across the room from us.

So we sit down, and we're all happy and eating, and then Savvy starts to cry. And then panic. And she's yelling (loud enough for it to reverberate off the walls of the place), "My foot! There's something on my foot! My foooot!!" So Phill quickly comes to the rescue, unlacing her pink Converse and sliding it off.

With shaky hands, she reaches down, and we can see that her sock has sort of slipped and formed a little fold, an annoying little bump near the toe. She whips the sock off, and then laughs with relief, actually near tears in her happiness. Then, feeling free and joyous, she yells loudly enough for all to hear, "OH! It was just a NIPPLE! A nipple in my shoe!" 

I'm still puzzling that one out.

We're in trouble deep

So. Our Savvy.

She's spectacularly bold. Courageous. Strong-willed.

And sassy! And sometimes, well, sometimes she's totally sneaky. Sometimes it's really annoying stuff--like dumping all the kitties' water into their food dish so that the food plumps up and swells to fit the dish (EW.). Sometimes it's pretty harmless, like sneaking glances at my hair before she decides how she'd like her hair to be.

But today! Oh, that girl, she makes me laugh. Today, I was sitting at the computer, and I heard her in her room. She said, "Hi! I'm in my room! You see me? In my room?" -pause- "Hold on, I can't talk. My mom's talking to me." -total fabrication- -bigger pause- "I'll be right there!" Then she comes running out of her room, sailing past me, her braid-wavy hair flying and her pink Converse kicking up, and then she goes right out the back door, slamming it shut behind her!

I call out to her, and she glimpses me through the window, and then guess what she did?

She ran FASTER.

So I ran to the door, opened it, and said, "Savvy! Wait! Come here!" Her response? "Stop SEEING me!"

I said, "Savvy, it's cold outside. You need a sweater."

She was so relieved that she actually laughed, and said in a shaky voice, "Ooohhh...a sweater!" Right. A sweater. Which I'm so relieved to hear, Mom, because the little neighbor boy is totally waiting for me around the corner of the house and I told him I'd be right there. That's right. The neighbor boy.

Savvy is three years old, and she was sneaking out to see the two-year-old neighbor boy.

Phill, begin rehearsing that Scare-the-Boyfriend speech now.

Dancing Savvy

When my little girl is no longer little
and more woman than girl
she will know how to dance in a man's arms.

She will know to be graceful,
to allow herself to be lead,
and to allow herself to live in just that space.

She will know that she is meant to be
cherished,
protected,
and valued
as something completely unique and indispensable.

All of these things she will know because right now
when she is tiny and yet mostly unmolded
her father puts his hand on her waist
holds her other hand in his, and shows her how to dance:
how to be graceful, how to be lead, how to live in the moment;
shows her what it means to be cherished, protected, and valued--
because each one of us is somebody completely unique and indispensable.

So that when she is grown and fully self-directed,
she will have reference in her mind, this reminder:
This is how you are to be treated, my girl.
This is the safe place from which every good thing comes.

This morning,

Savvy was in the bed sleeping next to me, her back to my chest and her little body curved in the same shape as mine, her arms wrapped around her "lemur" {her beloved d.i.-bought one-eyed stuffed cheetah, her BABY}. She slowly turned around to face me with her wild sleepy eyes {beautiful, so beautiful} and then put her hand on my cheek, and said quieter than a whisper, "I wuv you." Then turned over, pressing her little back into my chest and grabbing my arm to wrap around her tummy, and fell asleep again.

and we dance

I know I say it a lot, but it's only because it's true: I feel immeasurably blessed/humbled to be married to Phill. And I'm only saying it again right now because it's a lead-in to my favorite part of today (so far, I still have some chocolate to eat and reading to do):

Phill dancing in our living room to "Let It Be" and "Hey Jude" with Savvy holding onto his fingers (this includes bouncing up and down as if jumping rope....incredibly exhausting, but little 2-year-olds do it for five minutes non-stop without breaking a sweat), and the boys rocking out nearby in their respective styles. (Jaxon laying lax on the couch, nodding his head up and down, chill as can be; Reed running around in circles, somersaulting, and bellowing with abject happiness.) We laughed so much tonight that my stomach hurts....Savvy was using a light saber as a microphone stand (she caught some Fergie today with me on TV; Glamorous held her spellbound)

The boys are in their beds, with their headphones in and their mp3 players on. Reed is singing, "NAA-NA-NA-NAAAA....HEEEYY JUUUDE" at the top of his lungs (unaware, of course, of how loud he is being to the rest of us), and Jaxon has his eyes closed, only quietly humming here and there, off in dreamy Hendrixland.

Oh, these babies. I used to wonder what it meant when people said, "My heart swells with joy"....and I am telling you, I get it. I feel like my heart is so full, at times like these when we are all laughing and smiling and connected and dancing and free, I wonder that my heart doesn't simply beat its way out of its cage of ribs.

Savvy's Word of Today:

MAYBE.

As in:
"Ma, where's my baby?"
"I don't know."
"You don' know? Maybe she in da crib?"
"Maybe."
(cheerfully, thinking I might be right) "Maybe!"

"Mama, where's da baby's bottle?"
"I don't know. May--"
(triumphantly interrupting) "MAYBE it's right HERE!"

"Ma, where's my nuk?"
"Maybe it's in your crib."
(very quietly) "Maybe."

Oh man, it was cute to hear her learn/try out/enjoy that word today. :)

Quotables: It's been a while!

Yesterday, while I made dinner, the boys sat at the table asking each other What's Your Favorite questions. I listened quietly, not wanting to interrupt and make them shy or change their answers. I overheard:

Jaxon asks Reed, "What's your favorite birthday present?"
Reed answers, "Um, I really want a toot bag! Then I can make toot sounds." (It took me a second to realize that he was talking about a whoopie cushion, and then I was just trying not to let him see me laughing. I was facing away from him with the hugest smile on my face.

Reed asks Jaxon, "Who's your favorite dad?"
Jaxon answers, "Phillip."
Reed laughs and says to me, "Phillip! Hahahah...."
And then Jaxon says matter-of-factly, "Cuz that's the dad we're 'upposed to have!"

Reed asks Jaxon, "What's your favorite rock 'n roll guy?"
Jaxon answers, "Mmmmm.....Jimi Hendrix." Except he says Hendwix, which is so cute I can hardly stand it, and I go into the pantry to laugh quietly.

Savanna is constantly making up songs. Right now, she is at the table, eating cereal and singing, "One-ee-two....one-ee-two...."

I Just Wanted to Say to You Readers:

If your 4-year-old punched your 6-year-old in the nose and made it bleed,

you're not alone.

If your 2-year-old punctured your 4-year-old's foot with a rake,

you're not alone.

If your bathroom smells disgusting, takes an hour to deep-clean, and STILL smells disgusting afterwards,

you're not alone.

If your 4-year-old uses his carpet for a toilet,

you're not alone!!

And if you find it simply exhausting and overwhelming to keep your temper in check when all of these things happen in ONE DAY.....

you guessed it. You're not alone.

It has been quite the day. I will recover, but at the moment, I have put myself in time-out until I feel forgiving.

basic happiness

There are days when simple pleasures are totally adequate to make me mostly happy throughout the day. (I must admit that I am not yet well-adjusted enough for this to work every day.)

Here is a sampling of a few things that made me happy today:Yep, strawberries. I did say simple pleasures, didn't I? Both the strawberries and the Ikea containers housing them. I just love the way it looks. (And tastes.)
Savvy and her new (new from D.I.) baby doll, Baby D.I. (Phill bequeathed this somewhat creepy dolly with the name "Deseret-Indigo", so she is "Baby D.I." for short.) All of a sudden this evening, Savanna looked at me and shouted, "Baby D.I.!! She wake up!" And she bolted into her room, with me on her heels. Holding on to the side of her crib, Savvy said, "My baby wake up! She awake!" So I took out Baby D.I. and put her in Savvy's arms. Isn't Savvy a good mommy?
I will be posting about my birthday and Jaxon's birthday, obviously not in chronological order, soon. He was very particular about the kind of cake he wanted, and I have to say, he was right on. This thing was delicious! I had two pieces today, and I'm planning on a third when the kids are in bed....sneaky, sneaky. (Once upon a time I hid in the pantry to eat a Creamsicle because I didn't want to share.) I love the fact that because I ran 9 miles today, I don't feel bad about 3 pieces of cake. I'm sure some marathon-training experts would be shaming me for my gratuitous dessert use, but....I just don't feel guilty! :D
Now, this thing....this thing makes me happy mostly in retrospect. I hate using the treadmill, but when I decide to be lazy in the morning and don't wake up in time to get my miles in outdoors, I end up running to the sounds of HGTV or the Food Network while Jaxon and Savvy watch a movie. Once I'm done, yeah, I'm happy!
Jaxon playing Lego Batman on the XBOX. His concentration is a hoot.
Reed ran into his room immediately after school to change clothes--into Phill's shirt. It makes me smile hugely to see Reed in Phill's clothes.
This man. The minute he walks into the door, my day is instantly better. I also happen to love him in uniform....so dashing.
Last, and of course not least, on my list of today's simple pleasures: A phone call from my beautiful sister, Liz! We were able to talk for much longer than normal. We laughed, we cried....no really. We cried and laughed. It's our style. :)

Little Mimic

All these days that I have been putting on my makeup, cleaning up spills, reading at the table, or throwing things in the trash....someone has been watching.

And taking notes.

And practicing.
That is some impressive technique, given that she's only 2 years old. I mean, her hands may have been shaking (she was probably anticipating being caught), but she did do this without a mirror!
At least she's copying my better behavior. Putting something in the trash:
Cleaning up her spills:
And I guess reading at the table isn't "kosher" or "polite". But at breakfast and lunch, I can't help it. And apparently, neither can she:

Savanna

Today after getting the boys in bed (sort of), I was chasing Savanna around the living room. She was almost screaming with laughter, and then held on tightly to me when I scooped her into my arms. It was then that it hit me (like it has before on so many occasions) that she is absolutely, deliciously, devastatingly cute.

And just like that, I couldn't put her to bed.

I became completely ineffective and decided instead to take her out in the front and photograph her in the just-set sunlight. Maybe I was hoping to freeze and preserve her off-the-charts beauty. Maybe I was trying to freeze time.

We laid down on the warm concrete of the driveway, looking at the sky.
"Ma, wook! Is ky! See?"
"Yes, Savvy! Sky. I see."
"It fly." (holding a toy airplane in her hands and moving it around in the air above us.)

Today she carried her baby doll all over the house. She was in a panic whenever she mislaid the baby doll, and would search frantically, calling, "Baby! Baby?" until she found her.

Last night she put Baby to bed in a Tupperware container with a dishtowel for a blanket.

Today she bathed her (cloth) baby in the toy wheelbarrow out back, which was filled with sprinkler water, courtesy of Savvy's great assistant, Reed.

Some time earlier this morning I found Savanna laying in my bed, with her dolly (wrapped in the dishtowel) held tightly to her chest, a blanket around them both.
"Is Baby sleeping, Savvy?"
"Dess. Is sleepy tired."
"She's sleepy and tired? Are you taking a nap?"
"Dess. Nap."
Then she patted Baby's back and whispered, "Ssshhhh....okay."

And now she is 2.

I am never going to stop missing her newborn smallness.

I don't know when or if that's going to happen.

Certainly not yet.

Yesterday morning at church, she was cranky and clung to Phill. But she looked beautiful. And like a 2-year-old.
Her birthday was simple and wonderful. Phill made his amazing chicken enchiladas.
The children were entertained by balloons in the backyard. The presents were plentiful, but not overwhelming. A shopping cart and babies (that seemed size-appropriate, were a baby to give birth to a baby) from us and a little Elmo mailbox from some friends of ours.
When presented with her cake, her approach was calculated and methodical.
Perhaps "thorough" is a more fitting word.
She didn't attack it like the boys attacked theirs. The cake attacked her.
A bath was necessary.Today on our way home from lunch with Phill, she fell asleep in the car. Her body was warm and totally relaxed, her cheek soft against my own. I held her a little longer than necessary, standing by her crib, thinking how soft her hair was, how pure she is, how complex and beautiful she is. She peeked at me out of sleepy eyes as I laid her down, and I took note of her diluted-brown eyes and long lashes, and brushed her hair out of her eyes as she fell back to sleep. That little ache somewhere near my sternum isn't gone yet, but each stage of her life--and each stage of my boys' lives--has its own particular beauty. I might survive, remembering that.

:)