chocolate for breakfast

We've been really, really working on getting Pirate to sleep in his own bed. We bought Thomas "the Tank Eng" sheets and a blanket, and we bought a fish tank -which we put a fake little turtle into for decoration. He loves the fish tank and the turtle, so we decided to use fish as bribery bate. If he could sleep in his own room every night, we'd by him 2 gold fish.

Saturday we went to the pet store and he became the very proud owner of 2 fish. He loves the fish, he talks to them, and is constantly wanting to feed them "a snack." We told him if he could sleep in his own bed again all this week, we'd go buy him 2 more fish. (If I end up with 57 fish in that tank, so be it!)

Anyway, last night I successfully kissed him goodnight while he was still fairly awake, and crawled into my own bed three-quarters expecting him to follow me -and he didn't. Which Hubs and I high-fived each other!

This is serious progress people. Serious. Progress.

"Now, if we could just get him to stay there all night." one of us said before we drifted off into slumber.

At 3:00 this morning, we both woke up. Pirate was not in our bed.
"It's three, and he's still in his own bed!" one of us said, both of us were thinking it.
"I know!"
"He'll probably be in here soon, then."
"Yeah, probably."

I laid back down, and the next time my eyes opened light was streaming in through the windows and Hubs was in the shower and I was all alone in the bed!

Pirate slept all night in his own bed!

As Hubs was getting out of the shower, Pirate toddled into our room.

"Yay! Parate! Yay! Pirate!!" -A boy has never been so cheered for sleeping in his own bed all night, I can almost promise you that!

Then Hubs said, "You get 3 M&Ms for sleeping in your own bed all night!!" and then Pirate was excited too. And if you know me at all, you know how anti-sugar I am, but I'll take that highly addictive power of sugar and use it to advantage in cases such as these.

This is the third (maybe the fourth) time in his entire 2 and one-half-plus years on this earth that he has ever slept an entire night. Which, you might also read as: I have not had a full night's sleep since I gave birth to him. Actually, since I was about half-way through the pregnancy. SO I'm actually on 3 full years on not a single full night's sleep...

The first two times this happened, once around 7 months, another time about a year ago, I was foolish enough to think we'd turned a new leaf! Crossed a bridge! I was on my way to finally getting to sleep all night...

I'm not fooled this time. This might not happen again for another year -but today I'll take it! And be very happy! And I'm  going to go buy him a train or something today. I am. Because if bribery works, I am going to work it!

seeing myself

Throughout my childhood the one thing that I really, really wanted was to take dance -and gymnastics too if it happened to be a Summer Olympics year. Not only did I see it as the ultimate gateway to the Cool Girls Club, I loved it. And I was GOOD at it. Whenever I was bored, I choreographed dances in my head. (I still do this.) After MUCH pleading, weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth -my mom was able to find a compromise for me. Acro-gymnastics. To me it was part-dance, and part-gymnastics, and never-mind that I was probably the oldest and tallest girl in the class -I loved it. It was the highlight of my little life.

One night, towards the end of the scheduled class session, Bruce -our teacher- explained that for that class (the second-to-last one) we were going to be tested. If we passed the test, we would be invited to join the Acro-Team. I'd seen their pictures on the wall. They had their own T-Shirts. They performed for people. I wanted to be on that team, so badly. So very badly.

I proved my strength, flexibility, grace, and control with every test. Until the last test -a standing back handspring -without a mat. I'd done this 100 times on the mat. I knew I could do this. I knew it was in me. I couldn't muster the courage. I just couldn't. I stood there for the rest of the class, poised to do it, hating myself for not being able to. 

I was angry at myself all week.

Bruce told me if I did it next class, the last class, he'd let me on the team. All week I tried working up the courage. I even set up a pile of blankets and pillows in our living room and tried to get myself to do it. I did try, once. I over judged, and rug-burned about three inches down the center of my nose. Bearing that scar I took deep breaths heading into my class that one, final night.

And when push came to shove.

I still couldn't bring myself to do it. 

And I was so angry with myself. 

When the Pirate took his third swim lesson today, and wasn't able to bring himself to dip his chin into the water and blow bubbles, I recognized that same fear. He wanted to do it. He tried talking himself into it. In the car on the way there he said, at least three times, "I do it. I get a sucker." But when push came to shove, he just couldn't do it. 

When I wrapped him in a towel and told him, "It's okay, Pirate. Next time. You can try again next time." I saw myself in him. He was very angry with himself. He felt like he'd failed.

It just about broke my heart.

on mothers day

My thoughts won't corral into anything more that this:

I love that I get to be a Mother.

I realize that this is a life calling, and a gift, and a blessing, and something not to be taken for granted.

My heart is heavy today for all the women who are hurting extra today. Who, like I was a few years back, are hiding from the day, trying to ignore the hell that they are sitting in. I hope and pray they can get out. Whether by finally becoming Mothers, or through a patient acceptance of a different Divine plan.

Life and love are miracles.

suggestable mind

Lately the Pirate has been asking us to tell him bedtime stories. Not from a book, but a made-up story. Hubs is amazing at making up stories that are appealing to this little boy. He tells about Thomas and Percy, and races on the Island of Soradoor. He tells about mud and splashing and hauling important freight.

I'm not so good at making up these stories.

The other night Pirate asked me for a story and my brain was just too tired to even come up with anything new, so I decided to tell him a story about him.

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Pirate. His ears perked. Pirate's mom thought it was time for him to learn how to swim. So she enrolled him in swim lessons. I had his full attention.

The day came for his first lesson. His mom drove him to the place with the pool, and took him inside. It was nice and warm inside, and there was a big pool to splash and swim in. His mom took him into a bathroom, and put him in his blue swim diaper. Then it was time for his lesson. He got into the pool, and he didn't cry at all! And he did everything that his teacher asked him to do, he did so good!...

I went on, outlining exactly all the details from his first lesson -which did go fabulously. Minus, of course, the melt-down afterwards because I told him, "no" on the sucker he saw on our way out. I'd told him "next time" and he just lost it. Then I continued telling the story.

Then the next lesson came, and the Pirate got to put on his blue swim diaper again. He got in the pool, and the water was nice and warm! This time his teacher asked him to blow bubbles in the water, but he would not do it. He floated on his back, and stretched his arms out like an airplane! He did so good! But he would not blow bubbles in the water. He would not do it. He kicked his legs and stretched out his arms, just like his teacher asked. He did so good! But when she asked him to put his bubbles in the water, he would not do it. She asked and asked, but he would not do it. She had the other kids show him how. They could do it! He would not. He would not do it. So, Pirate's mom said, "Pirate, if you don't do as your teacher asks, if you don't blow your bubbles into the water, you will not get your sucker at the end." And still, the Pirate would not do it. So the lesson ended, and he did not get his sucker and he cried and cried and cried. He was so sad he didn't get his sucker.

This is exactly what happened. But, not wanting to end on such a disappointing note, I projected into the future...

Then the time came for his third lesson. This time the Pirate was going to be brave. He was going to blow bubbles into the water, he was going to get his sucker! So he put on his blue swim diaper, and got into the water, and when his teacher asked him to blow bubbles into the water, he did it! He did it! And his mom cheered, "Yay! Pirate!" and his teacher was so happy, she said, "Good job Mr. Pirate! Good job!" And everyone was happy, and he got a sucker.

At this point, his eyes were swirling into the back of his head, and I gave his back a pat and went to my own bed.

At 1:00 he woke up screaming. And At 2:45. And At 3:30. And At 4:27. It was a long night of, "Pirate. What is wrong? Quit crying. Do you want some water? What is wrong? Go. To. Sleep."

In the morning, I said to him, "What was wrong last night? Where you having bad dreams?"
"Yes." He said.
"What happened in your dreams?" I asked.
"I didn't get a sucker."

Oops.

and, take two...

I went private for a week. I mentioned I'd explain why, but the four of you who still read this blog all contacted me in email, so I don't think there's any need for redundancy.

Life is good.

It's changing, and quickly, but it's good.

i love general conference.

Usually the Monday following conference is a peaceful one. A quiet one. A day I take slowly, while I think on the things the weekend taught me. Nudged me to do or become.

Today was not a day that allowed for that. Pirate was cranky. I was stressed.

So, I'm doing a bit of it now. At 10:30. When the house is sleeping.

I think I only have about three minutes of energy left.

Maybe tomorrow I can share.