Youth Battalion Free Printable

Here is the handout I created for my young women based on Pres. Nelson's talk Sunday evening. I shared already on Facebook, but I think you can get a slightly higher res version if you click on the link below and save the jpg from there!

https://whereisthelaughtrack.blogspot.com/2018/06/youth-battalion-jpg.html

Youth Battalion jpg

Kate's Church Commentary

Lately Kate is really excited about listening to words in everyday conversation and trying to identify the letters they start with.  On Sunday this turned into trying to just identify the words we were singing.  For one of the hymns we sang "Be Still My Soul."  Kate got really excited and repeated a few words here and there. But then she got this confused look on her face and asked, "Why he steal my soul?"  "No, Kate, not steal, STILL."

Later someone made reference in their talk to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. The speaker was briefly outlining the plot and mentioned how the Nazis shoot Indiana's dad in the stomach.  Kate was quite bothered by this and kept asking why they shot him in the stomach.  (The gist of the explanation I gave was mostly that it was because they were Nazis. What more reason do you need?) Finally she pointed out, REALLY loudly I might add, "No one got shot in the stomach in my Barbie movie!" I think she was just trying to point out the obvious superiority of HER movie over whatever this other junk we were all talking about.  I mean, who wouldn't choose mediocre writing and atrocious computer graphics over a movie where someone gets shot in the stomach?!?!?

And finally, this same speaker mentioned the idea of being in God's presence.  Kate got this excited look in her eyes and cried out (again, quite loudly), "God's PRESENTS!  Like from Santa!!!"

At Least the Carpet is Nice and Variegated

Today at church I got a new calling.  I am now the 2nd counselor in the Primary Presidency for our ward.  (For those unfamiliar, there is a president and two counselors over the Primary.  We oversee the needs of the Sunday School program for all of the children in our congregation.  In this case, there are 100+ children.)

For the last 9 months or so, I have had the calling of a Primary class teacher.  I have been teaching one class of about 6-8 children.  They are 7 and 8 year olds.  I've been super lucky because since the new year, this is the class Claire is in. But I will no longer be teaching this class.  Claire is sad.  I'm excited for my new assignment, but it is a little bittersweet to not teach these kids anymore.

Today, one of the boys in my class saw fit to make my farewell easier.

After our individual class hour, we wait in the hallway outside the common Primary room while the previous group of younger children finish up.  Today I went around the corner to return some chalk I had borrowed from the library.  When I got back, there was a spot of throw-up on the floor.

I came to find out that in the few minutes I was gone, one of the boys tried stuffing his ENTIRE necktie inside his mouth.  This caused him to gag, and the rest, as they say, is history.  It wasn't that bad, but it was still pretty funny in a what-else-can-you-do-but-laugh kind of way.  I'm so glad to know my children aren't the only ones who do things like this.

Amazing how much can go wrong in the time it takes to walk around a corner.

But maybe I'm reading this all wrong.  Maybe this isn't a farewell from my old calling, but a warning about just how crazy things are about to get???

Green and Pink Luncheon

Immediately following Claire's baptism, everyone came over to our house for lunch.  (Convenient that we live about 3 minutes away from the church building!)

We served food Claire wanted and the only real theme was the colors:  hot pink and apple green

 Hot pink strawberry, regular, and green mint chocolate chip cookies.

(Figuring out how to make these so vividly colored was non-trivial.  Would the masses like a tutorial?)

 Sub sandwiches.  (Thank you Costco meat and cheese platters.) 

 Pink lemonade, water, fruit (in mostly reds/pinks and greens), chips, pink and green napkin sculpture.

And of course a marker to write your name on your cup.

M's sister helped me string up these streamers:

Nothing bonds you to your sister-in-law like climbing on top of a table at 1am, right?

I ruffled the streamers on my sewing machine using this tutorial.

The Fanciest Easter Dress Ever

Today my Claire is getting baptized.  We're all so excited!  I'm really happy she's making this choice.

(In our faith, children get baptized when they are 8 years old.)

We're also excited to see all of the family that is here for the event.

 

We went to my parents' house last weekend and took some photos so that I wouldn't have the stress of capturing her dress along with everything else going on this weekend.

It was windy, so she had fun twirling her dress.

Oh, and I sewed her dress:

It only kind of consumed my life since Christmas.  

And yet I claim to enjoy sewing. (Note to self: verify sanity)

And thank you Target for free shipping on new white shoes:

As fun as this weekend will be, I'm sure, I'll be kind of be glad when it's over.  Between sewing the dress and getting ready for house guests and prepping for a post-baptism luncheon and everything else, I'm... tired.  Oh yah, and it's ALSO Easter.  I really want to sit and rest a spell...

 

Well, at least a nice Easter dress for Claire this year was a no-brainer!

  

Happy MLK Day!

In Claire's family prayer last night, one of the things she said was, "Thank you for Martin Luther King Jr. and that he helped with the whites only."

It took me a minute to process what she was trying to say.  I'm pretty sure Martin Luther King didn't just help white people only.  And then it finally clicked that she was talking about laws and getting rid of the "whites only" ones.  Apparently we and/or her school have succeeded in helping her understand that there was a time when "whites only" signs existed and that people like Martin Luther King Jr. helped get rid of those, but maybe now we need to work on the correct terminology!

Hooray for Ballad Meter!

I never got around to blogging this before, but last year I was asked to teach a class on Christ-centered Christmas traditions at a church activity.  Last year was a rough year for me, and since I suspected I wasn't the only one feeling like I could barely keep my head above water sometimes, I really wanted to come up with something for my class that was actually helpful instead of just guilt-inducing.  

Most things seems to suggest that having a Christ-centered Christmas is "simple."  All I have to do is remember each and every day of December to remember to pull out some 3-ring binder full cheesy stories and read one while my angelic children sit still and listen without poking each other or needing to still finish their homework.  Or to gather my whole family around to write and stage our own nativity musical for all of the neighbors, with proceeds to be used in our own elaborate 12 Days of Christmas charitable act.  Or to make lists of all the fabulous good things we intend to do as gifts to Jesus and hand embroider them onto a blanket that we keep track of for an entire year so we can reflect on our failure next December.  All of these could be great ideas if they work for you, but when you're already feeling overwhelmed, they could also be enough to make you collapse into a sobbing heap.

I decided instead to focus on actually SIMPLE things we could do because if anyone suggested one more complicated thing to add to the Christmas season, I was gonna scream.

I started out the class by horrifying all in attendance with my singing voice as I performed this little number:

The Ballad of Carol's Christmas

(to the tune of Gilligan's Island)

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a stressful time
That started on Thanksgiving day,

So listen to my rhyme.

Carol is a mighty busy gal

Who fills her days and nights

And yells at her busy husband to

Put up the Christmas lights.

The Christmas bonus will be used

To buy a 12 foot tree

And a blow up Santa Claus

Riding a Harley, riding a Harley.

Her cards say “Happy Holidays”

But she forgot the stamps.

The ones that show all 8 reindeer

Dressed up like little tramps.

She wants to give gifts to her friends,

Co-workers, neighbors too,

But without time for homemade fudge,

Some candy canes will do.

Now what to get her husband Bob

So he will think she rocks?

No time - just get a gift card or

Another pair of socks.

She has to buy the latest toy

And that would seem just fine

If she didn't have to stand and wait

In a three hour line, a three hour line.

Carol sets the wrapping paper down

In the only open space

With a Barbie doll

And Skipper too,

Potato Head and his wife,

A movie player,

A processor and memory

Here on the kitchen island.

And while she wraps and wraps and wraps

She listens with her ear

To songs about how Grandma got

Run over by reindeer.

Across the post office counter

The presents all get tossed.

If not for the tracking number she got,

The package would be lost, the package would be lost.

Yes, Christmas time was here again

For Carol's family.

They're just too busy to make time

For the nativity.

We all feel pity for Carol.

She has too much to do.

A little too familiar –

Does Carol sound like you? Does Carol sound like you?

O Christmas time, it seems we have

Done all our time permits.

In all the many things we do

This is where Jesus fits?

Amazed at what has happened

Here in this world of sin,

With tears we stop and wonder how

The dear Christ enters in? The dear Christ enters in?


Then, threatening to kick out anyone who suggested something that wasn't simple, we had an open discussion about ways to replace or simplify our existing traditions to be more Christ-centered.  Some of my favorite suggestions (that I remember) included: 

• Buying/making Christmas cards that say "Merry Christmas" and not just "Happy Holidays," etc.
• Buying the Madonna and Child Christmas postage stamps instead of the less religious snowman, pinecone, etc. ones
• Instead of going out as a family to look at Christmas lights, go out to visit a nativity (many churches/communities have really cool live ones)
• Instead of a big elaborate Christmas Eve or Christmas dinner, have a Bethlehem meal on the floor of figs, dates, olives, goat cheese, nuts, grapes, grape juice, dried meat, honey, fish, etc.  Things that Mary and Joseph might have eaten at the time.
• Read inspiring Christmas stories for bed time with your children instead of their usual bedtime stories
• Sing Christmas hymns for bed time songs to your children
• Listen to Christmas hymns as you go about your activities
• Giving Christ-centered items out as gifts to friends/neighbors/co-workers, or at least attaching a Christ-centered tag/message ("Joy to the World" pass along cards or even the "Joy to the World" video itself were mentioned) 

Now remember, if you don't already do an equivalent of one of these activities, you shouldn't feel obligated to start doing it.  You can if you want.  But if you're already doing something similar to one of these, why not tweak it a little to be more Christ-centered?  But whatever you do, DO NOT STRESS YOURSELF OUT.  Otherwise I will have failed completely.

I ended the class by having a friend (who could actually make it sound pretty) sing: 

(to the tune of O Little Town of Bethlehem) 

O Christmas time, it seems we have

Done all our time permits.

In all the many things we do

This is where Jesus fits.

Amazed at what has happened

Here in this world of sin,

With tears we stop and wonder how

The dear Christ enters in.

Sometimes you don't need to add more verses to your song, you just need to change your tune.

I don't know how well this idea conveys without actually hearing it.  I'm not a music person, so I'm not even sure how well it worked out in person.  But I'm trying to change my "Christmas tune" to be a little more O Little Town of Bethlehem and a little less Gilligan's Island.

Anyone have any suggestions for simple changes that can be made for a more Christ-centered Christmas? How have you "changed your tune"?

[WARNING:  Same rules apply as the class I taught - KEEP IT SIMPLE.  But since I can't kick you off the internet, instead just know that if you break my rules M and I will mock you mercilessly amongst ourselves.  Be intimidated.  Be very intimidated.]

I Want the Drought to End Too, BUT...

  
Dear People Who Are Members of My Church (Maybe not ALL, but certainly MOST of them),

I have a small issue I would like to address.  It has bothered me for many years, but ever since Mother Nature decided to stop making rain clouds in Texas and it became the land of searing heat this year, it's started coming up a lot more.

It's about your prayers.  Don't get me wrong, I want the drought to end.  I'm glad you're praying for it to end and I am too.  It's the wording I have issue with.  Do you really have to ask for "moisture"?  And when we DO get a little sprinkle, do you have to say thank you for "moisture" too? 

I believe the word "rain" is the appropriate choice here.  We want RAIN.  Or we're thankful we got RAIN.  Why not just say that?  For some reason though, you seem to think that when you're praying you ought to say "moisture."  I have some guesses about why you might feel compelled to say this:

1)  "Moisture" sounds more formal -- No, it doesn't.  Moisture sounds disgusting.  It brings to mind sweat, used sponges, or worse, some sort of feminine issue.  More formal would be something like "waters sent forth from heaven above."  Maybe a bit overkill, but better than saying "moisture."

2)  "Moisture" is more generic and all encompassing and we'll take anything we can get -- While I appreciate the sentiment, there are two problems with this.  First of all, this is Texas.  If you're hoping that we'll get snow instead of rain, you're kidding yourself.  Maybe you grew up in Utah where it actually snows and picked up the habit there?  Well, that brings me to my second point.  You might have learned this in like, elementary school.  We have a word for generic wet stuff falling from the sky: precipitation.  I know it's kinda long, but say it with me now:  Pre-cip-i-ta-tion.  And if you forget the correct generic word, do you honestly think it will hurt to just say "rain"?  I mean, I'm pretty sure if you say "rain" the Lord isn't going to think, "Oh, I was going to send some snow, sleet, and hail, but since they only asked for rain, I guess they're out of luck."

3)  "Moisture" includes humidity and dew -- This is probably the least objectionable reason for saying "moisture." HOWEVER, I hate to break it to you but I don't really think raising the humidity around here is going to stop the drought.  It WILL make us all even more miserably uncomfortably hot and sweaty (moist?), and it may be a little better for the plants, but it's just not going to cut it.

4)  You say "moisture" just to annoy uptight people like me -- By all means, carry on then.  You're doing a great job.

All that being said, keep on praying for rain, or precipitation, or dews from heaven distilling, or... *gulp*... moisture, or whatever.  Just keep praying for something to end this drought.

Sincerely,
G
 
 

Effect and Cause

Last weekend was general conference for our church.  Over the course of the weekend, we got to hear from the leaders of our church via internet broadcast in several 2 hour sessions. 

It's wonderful, but not always easy with the younger set.  Really, Claire and Scott did surprisingly well.  Kate did pretty well during the first session on Saturday morning, then she was asleep for the second session.  But by Sunday morning, I could tell she was wondering, "Why are were doing this again?!?!?"

After a while, a restless Kate started folding her arms and acting like we were going to have a prayer.  At first I thought she was misinterpreting the talk as a prayer.  I'm sure when you're in the middle of it, a prayer and a talk don't sound that different to a toddler.

Then I realized I wasn't giving her enough credit.  She was trying to end the meeting.

Normally at church we have a closing prayer, and then the meeting is over.  So if she could just get us to start praying, then this long boring meeting would be over, right???

I Thought It Would Be EASIER With Just Kate in the Pew...

Yesterday at church was our ward's Primary sacrament program. This is where instead of adults giving talks, the main portion of our meeting is all of the children in our congregation singing the songs they have been learning this year and giving small speaking parts and talks related to the year's theme.

So while M got up to get attendance numbers (he's the ward clerk), I sat and wrangled Kate while trying to watch Claire and Scott sing the songs. Scott is in the youngest class so he was right up front. Right in front, picking his nose. Picking his nose, and then eating it.

When I recovered from my brain aneurysm, and from vomiting due the grossness, I started trying to gesture to him to stop it. I tried to catch his eye and when I did, I would put my hand up to my face, then quickly put it down and shake my head. I tried waving my hand in front of my face. Scott's face simply got more and more confused looking, and I think the mental strain and nervous energy were sending that finger prospecting deeper and deeper. At last I took both arms, folded them in front of me, and then lifted them up in order to suggest he do the same. And it worked! He folded his arms. Phew!

But! In the few second that I used two hands to gesture to Scott, I had let go of Kate. She had rocketed out of the pew and had started toddling as fast as she could down the aisle. She KNEW she was being naughty, and she thought it was hilarious. She was cackling as maniacally as a 15 month old can and she could barely walk straight she was laughing so hard. At least it slowed her down a little! She was halfway down the aisle before I managed to run while hunched over and grab her, which of course she thought was EVEN MORE HILARIOUS!!!

At least the other people watching me seemed to get a good laugh too.

Three Piece Suit and Pink Flip Flops

Or

Why You Should Do What Mom Says

[Warning - Not for squeamish pansies]

We just attended a wedding for Marshall's brother last week. The kids were all in the wedding, so at church yesterday we had them all wear their fancy outfits. When we got home from church, we followed the usual routine. We told Claire and Scott to change out of their church clothes. Marshall and I changed our clothes and got Kate out of her church dress. When I checked on him, Scott was still sitting in his three piece suit reading a book. The only thing he had taken off was his shoes. So I helped him out of his suit coat and then told him again to go get changed.

I went to go do something and then I hear a crashing sound of something breaking. I come running into the dining room to find Kate has pulled a glass off the table and now her foot is bleeding.

[Now here I am torn between beating myself up and being defensive. I KNOW Kate is into EVERYTHING lately. I know she pulls things down off the table. I know we need to be religious about clearing off the table. Why, why did I leave my glass from breakfast on the table??? I know I'm a slob, but it's a whole new problem when being a slob hurts your baby. Shame on me. On the other hand, did I mention Kate is into EVERYTHING lately? It's all I can do to keep up with her. Perhaps if church wasn't at 9am, if M hadn't been gone at meetings leaving me getting everyone ready for church by myself, if I wasn't still getting over a bad cold, if I wasn't exhausted like I always seem to be these days, perhaps then I would have remembered to clear my dishes that morning. There. I made a noble effort at being defensive. But my true nature as a mother wins out. I suck. I can't believe I let her get hurt.]

So her cut was bad enough that while weren't about to call an ambulance or anything, she definitely needed to go get looked at. There was a lot of blood. Yuck. So Marshall crammed his shoes on while applying pressure to her cut. I grabbed the diaper bag with my purse in it and rounded the other kids up. Claire was all dressed and just needed to put some shoes on. Scott on the other hand? Still sitting reading that book wearing his dress pants, white shirt, tie, and vest. Oh well, he got to go in his suit. This is why you listen to Mommy when she tells you to get changed. So I told him to go find his flip flops.

Well, of course, of course! We could only find one flip flop. This is why you put your shoes away when you take them off and not fling them willy-nilly all over the house. So Scott got to wear Claire's pink flip flops.

We were a motley crew there in the ER. Scott, as I mentioned was in a beige suit with pink flip flops. Claire had selected to wear pants with holes in the knee. Pants from LAST winter that were total floods on her. M's shoes were untied because it was too hard for him to tie them while applying pressure to Kate's cut. Oh well, I'm sure they see much worse in the ER.

On the up side, everything at the ER went pretty smoothly. It's pretty near our house and when we got there the waiting room was empty and we got to walk right in. The took x-rays of Kate's foot to check for glass in the cut. No glass, so they cleaned it then they numbed it in preparation to glue the cut. Only problem was that every time they went to push the cut back into place, it would start bleeding again. And the glue wouldn't stick if it was bleeding. But since no one wanted to figure out how to do stitches over her toe nail and nail bed, we REALLY wanted the glue to work out.

Finally after another long bout of constant pressure, it stopped bleeding enough to glue it up. But when they were done, you could tell it was still bleeding a little because blood was collecting inside the cut and it was getting all puffy and gross looking. (Or should I say MORE gross looking.) The glue held most of the way, but in a couple spots it opened enough for blood to keep oozing out. Lovely.

But apparently it was good enough because they sent us home. We were supposed to put a sock on her just to keep her from picking at it, but it was all ooze-y and bleeding a little again. So we put a little gauze and a band-aid on it. But after a few minutes of letting her walk around by herself, blood was soaking through her sock. So despite discharge instructions to just leave it be, we decided to bandage her up rather then go back to the ER. I mean seriously, it was already 4pm and we still hadn't eaten any lunch and Kate still hadn't napped at all. (She already missed her morning nap like she does every Sunday because of church, so she was getting delusional.) The bandage seemed to work until she woke up as we were going to bed. We gave her another dose of Tylenol and took the bandage off. It finally didn't look like it would bleed, so we just put a sock on her. Now it just oozes tiny bits on and off, but seems to be okay. We see the pediatrician for a follow up tomorrow morning. Here's how it looks today:

This photo serves two important purposes: (1) it serves as a diet aid - because, seriously, I don't want to eat ever again every time I look at that thing, and (2) it serves to make y'all feel better about yourselves because, clearly, my rug is in desperate need of vacuuming and still I have posted here for all to see (Isn't it nice that you and I are close enough friends that I can let you see my dirty rug? I'm so glad we're tight like that. Hey, if you want to feel like family, c'mon over because have I got a kitchen sink for you to see!)

UPDATE: Kate's cut seems to have come open again. It's not bleeding, but it's kinda gaping. Guess toddlers are too rough on glue. (Seriously, the number of times in the last 24 hours I have watched her stub that toe into something at full speed, wince, then just keep on running is astounding...) I called the doctor's office, but they said to just put a band aid on it to keep it clean and come in for the appointment we already have set up for tomorrow morning.

Maybe I Should Just Wear Long Sleeves For Awhile

You might think I'm crazy for letting this happen, but you need to know that Scott is probably what you would call an "oral" kid.  He puts everything in his mouth. I'm ashamed to admit that I've gotten kind of used to him putting his mouth on me.  A couple Sundays ago, Scott was sitting on my lap in church.  He was slumped over and cuddled up against the inside edge of my upper arm.  I felt that his mouth was probably open, but I didn't think much of it because, like I said, he puts EVERYTHING in his mouth.  I'm a mom.  Drool just doesn't phase me anymore.  But it just felt to me like he had his mouth open and that was it.  However, eventually getting drooled on did get old, so I tried to make him move.  There was this sucking sound as I broke the suction between his mouth and my arm.  I look down and realize he has not just been drooling on my arm, but very gently sucking on my arm.  I was left with a hickey!  FROM! MY! SON!  Granted it was very small and probably nothing someone would notice, but STILL!!!

Scott is Not a Giraffe (In Case You Were Unaware)

The other day we were leaving a church activity and it was a bit late at night considering we had 9am church (or 6:30am meetings in M's case) the next morning.  We were trying to herd the kids out the door, but Scott insisted that he needed to stop for a drink at the drinking fountain.

G:  "Fine, Scott.  Get a drink real quick."

Parents turn away distracted by one of the other kids, then turn back to Scott.

G:  "Scott, are you done getting a drink yet?"

Scott:  "Not yet, Mom.  I..."  *insert frustrated whiney cries and other non-verbal noises here*

G:  "Relax Scott, just get a drink."

Scott:  "I can't!"  *more frustrated whiney non-verbalness*

G:  "Why not?"

Scott:  "My neck's not long enough."

G and M laugh

M:  "Rock on, Scott.  Rock on.  Way to tell it like it is."

Scott, totally exasperated:  "NO!  I'm not rocking on.  I'm trying to get a drink!"


Sheesh!  Those pesky parents.  Always trying to pretend to be hip and with it when you're trying to quench your thirst.

But in our defense, we did eventually lift Scott up to get a drink, so maybe he'll decide we're worth keeping around.  At least until his neck grows...

BTW

By The Way...

we Blessed The Wee-one:


It was 2 months ago, I'm just playing catch up. Kate wore the same dress I made for Claire's blessing. We had both our sets of parents come and it was lovely. And I think that about sums it up.

Next Time on "Conference"...

This last weekend we watched General Conference for our church. For those who aren't familiar, there are four televised sessions over two days. (Or streamed online for those of us who still want to watch from home but are too cheap to pay for cable - maybe because we're too snobby to watch much TV or more likely because we're geeky and afraid TV might cut into our beloved computer time.)

I am wondering though if despite the fact that M and I have no love for the tube, maybe, just maybe, my kids watch too much TV because they kept asking when the next "episode" of Conference was going to be on. Hmmm...

I don't know, but I can hardly wait for next "season."

eBay or Craigslist?

At church on Sunday Scott had to be taken out of the meeting again. This, obviously, is not what's newsworthy. The interesting part is why we had to take him out. I mean, sure he pretends any object he gets his hands on is some kind of vehicle and makes loud zooming and crashing noises. That's old news. And sure he screeches at the top of his lungs when you don't give him what he wants or when Claire tries to boss him around. I've already told you about that. But now he likes to climb on my lap, stand up, and exclaim as loud as he can, "I'm on top of the world!!!"

I think that really is how he sees things. No matter how many times you take this kid out to a boring foyer where he has to sit on dad's lap with no toys, you just can't crush that spirit of his. Endearing, yet exhausting. We've been contemplating Plan B:

Thanks for Clarifying, Scott

Scott does not keep his emotions a secret.

When he feels affectionate, he gives spontaneous hugs and kisses. He prefers to initiate hugs at a full run. After crashing into you, he pats your back when he hugs you. This is coupled with lots of big, slobbery kisses. Thankfully he has finally learned to keep his mouth at least 80% closed now, most of the time. Also, he doesn't impact teeth first anymore. I think I heard that before he reformed a little, "Scott kisses" were slated to be the next event added to the X Games.

When he's displeased, he SCREAMS AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS. Screeching, blood-curdling screams. Like a girl.

When he's really mad, he throws himself to the ground for a tantrum. Face-first. It doesn't matter where he is: in the middle of the lawn, crowded pedestrian thoroughfares, asphalt, sand volleyball courts. You name it, he'll throw his face on it. Yesterday at church, he threw himself down without warning in the middle of a crowded church hallway. He nearly got stepped on three times by passing adults, who, for some reason, didn't think to check the floor in their peripheral vision for prostrate toddlers. Oh yah, and just like his kisses, his tantrums are open-mouthed too. I guess they aren't "face-first" so much as "mouth-first." So the other day at the park when decided to throw a tantrum in the sand volleyball court, he came up for air with a mouth full of sand. [Cringe]

But when Scott is happy, he makes up for all of it. He runs around flapping his arms and repeatedly exclaiming, "HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY!" (Of course, it sounds a little more like, "Ah-py, ah-py, ah-py!") As if he needed to tell us - his face says it all. Nonetheless, he announces it to the world. Over and over and over. Try watching him sometime and see if you're not grinning like a fool after about 10 seconds.

My Little Boy Who Cries Wolf

For months now Scott's favorite phrase has been "Help me!"

The first time I heard him say it, I thought it must have been my mind hearing things that weren't there. But after awhile I realized that in fact my little one and a half year old boy was frequently pleading, "Help me!" Well, okay, so it's actually more like, "Hawp me." He could say this before he could reliably refer to us as "Mommy" and "Daddy." It was his first sentence of sorts. But it's getting old. He uses it for EVERYTHING. Resourceful, but annoying. Just in the time I've been composing this post, he's come to me twice and said it. I'm supposed figure out what he wants from his plea of "Hawp me" and the fact that he hands me disassembled toys.

I understand when he says it because he's stuck perched across the gaping chasm between the coffee table and couch and his grip is slipping. "Hawp me!" I also understand when he says it because he wants to get into his high chair to eat lunch. "Hawp me!" But all M and I can do is roll our eyes when he yells it out in the middle of church because we've barricaded him into the pew with our legs and he wants to run free. "Hawp me!" Who exactly does he think is going to help him???

Scott's Trying to Upgrade to Aggravated Assault

I thought it was bad when Scott was throwing fabric fish at people in the pew behind us at church. Well, now he's upgraded to throwing train cars. Fortunately, the woman who was behind us isn't planning to press charges.

I wish we could stick with softer toys, but we've tried everything. The only way we can stay in any meaningful portion of our church meetings is if we bring not one, but two trains cars for Scott. He insists on one for each hand. Hey, at least they're quiet, right? Things usually go well as long as we don't prevent him from driving them over EVERY surface in a 10 foot radius and as long as he doesn't get the cars turned around so the magnets on the end repel instead of attract each other. Otherwise, the "choo"s start flying...