There's no shame . . .

. . . in admitting your tub has been dirty for the last year and you didn't even realize it.

You're probably thinking, "Um, that looks incredibly dirty to me. How exactly does that look clean to you?"

Let me explain.

When we moved into our rental home last April, they had just redone the tile around the tub, which was fabulous. However, the tub itself had dark gray stains around the bottom--I have tried bleach and soap scum remover over the past year, but the stains remained stubborn. I just chalked it up to too-harsh chemicals being used in times past, which had worn the porcelain down and allowed the gray metal underneath to appear. Of course, I would still clean it regularly, but it was a depressing, half-hearted effort when I realized that the stains were there to stay.

Then, one day at the gym I saw a commercial for the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.
The commercial said that the magic eraser would work on soap scum on tubs (which of course the lovely actress wiped away within a millisecond). I had a couple of these lurking in my cleaning bin somewhere, and I thought, "Hmm. The commercials always totally exaggerate, but what the heck, I'll try it."



Wow. It totally worked. Don't get me wrong--there are still some lingering stains, which have probably been there for who knows how long (I'm pretty sure the tub is original to the house, built in 1946) and will remain there indefinitely. It also took considerable elbow grease--my triceps got quite the workout, and I used up three erasers (they disintegrate as you use them, but they'd last for a lot longer on another job besides this tub). However, the product was far more successful than any spray I had tried. AND, it cleaned out some kitchen sink stains beautifully, too.

Just thought I'd share the love.

P.S. I wrote a letter to the company, praising the product and asking if they had any coupons (again, no shame), but they didn't. Of course, they have coupons in the P&G insert in the paper, but I was hoping for a freebie. Hey, it worked when I wrote into OFF! (I got a coupon for a free bottle of insect spray).

Quite the shock

Today when I went to pick up Michael from school, I was enormously surprised to see a new smile on his handsome face.


That's right--no more braces! Michael has had these braces for two and a half years now, so we are all thrilled to have them off. He had told me that his "de-bond" date was for March, so I was very surprised to see him without them today. Quite frankly, the shot above (yes, he's brushing Clara's teeth) doesn't do his teeth justice. They look fabulous. Now he has the smile to match his future profession.

Clara's immediate reaction to Daddy's new smile: "Big teeth!"

V-day at our place

(We celebrated last night due to an obligation tonight.)

I don't know if I'm alone in thinking that Valentine's Day is a rather silly, superfluous holiday. As my fabulous husband so aptly put it the other day, "Every day is Valentine's Day!"

Don't get me wrong, it's fun to be romantic, but I think all the pressure is just ridiculous, especially for the boys. Still, Michael and I carry on a tradition we've had since marriage, and the tradition is what makes the day meaningful . . . not the whole "today-is-the-one-day-out-of-the-year-that-I'm-going-to-tell-my-sweetheart-that-I-love-her-by-buying-her-a-diamond-necklace-from-Zales-and-if-I-don't-do-something-amazing-I'm-going-to-be-in-the-doghouse" concept.

Every year, Michael makes a heart-shaped pizza. He has become a master.

Anticipation is an understatement.

Holy guacamole.

Our Valentine's Day preferred beverage: chocolate milk (not the wimpy chocolate syrup in skim . . . I'm talking the store-bought half gallon that tastes like heaven in a jug).

Do you see the yummy cheese inside the crust? It could stretch a mile . . . and it did, right down into our stomachs and through the 25 feet of our intestines. (Just thought I'd end on a disgusting, yet fascinating scientific fact.)

It doesn't get any better than this.

Slow

(Sorry, folks, I'm waxing thoughtful and verbose tonight. Hope you can bear with me.)

In a contemplative moment tonight, I have been thinking about the concept of slowness. Today I was talking to an acquaintance from church about Clara, and she mentioned she has a grandson with autism. In continuing our conversation, I asked her if she was aware that Clara had developmental challenges, possibly Asperger's or something along those lines. She said, "Well, I knew she was slow like [another of her grandchildren]." I didn't think anything of it until later and thought that it was interesting that I wasn't offended by her saying that Clara was "slow." I know that I've heard through the years someone being described as "slow" as a derogatory remark, often associated with someone being retarded or something like that. But it does describe Clara because it's true.

For the record, Clara is slow. She walks slowly, she runs slowly, she thinks more slowly, she answers questions more slowly (typically), and nearly everything takes longer for her, particularly anything involving motor planning and learning new skills. When she was younger, I frequently carried her because it took for-ev-er to just walk out to the car from the house, partly because she is easily distracted, and partly because she is just slow. I'm not saying she's not intelligent; she's very intelligent. I'm just saying her movements and thought processes tend to be slow. (I'm not going to go in to all the reasons here for her slowness.)

This year I have been trying to make a concerted effort to not carry her as much and to allow her to do things on her own, like getting dressed, for example. This has been difficult for me, because I am not slow. I like to hurry. I like to do things fast. I can talk fast, sometimes so fast that I'll start too many thought threads and then have to back up to finish them one at a time. In so many ways, I'm the opposite of Clara. I like to read books so fast I skim just to get to the end--even (and especially) if it's a book I love. Clara likes to read books over and over and over again. Michael and I talk about how we need to slow down when we eat--it's like we're in a race against the clock and the food will disappear from our plates if we don't consume it in 90 seconds flat. Clara is not too slow when it comes to eating--perhaps that comes from me. I like to get things done--do do do do do. Check it off my list. Check check check check . . . ahhh, I feel my day has been productive.

A quote from Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin has really stuck with me:

"Sometimes we feel that the busier we are, the more important we are--as though our busyness defines our worth. Brothers and sisters, we can spend a lifetime whirling about at a feverish pace, checking off list after list of things that in the end really don't matter.

That we do a lot may not be so important. That we focus the energy of our minds, our hearts, and our souls on those things of eternal significance--that is essential" (emphasis added).

And in Julie B. Beck's talk, she says, "Mothers who know do less." Why is it that I think that getting stuff done = high worth, or being in a hurry = being important or productive? A wonderful talk was given in church on Sunday about patience. The speaker commented, "Heavenly Father is never in a hurry." Indeed, Acts 10:38 records that Jesus Christ "went about doing good," but do you think he ran through the streets, touching all who needed his healing power and scurrying around trying to do all that he could? The idea seems even irreverent. No, he walked among the people. He spent time with them. He helped those who needed it as he went along. And Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us that "to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven."

The poem I quoted a year ago still sticks with me. We live in Holland over at our house. At least, Clara does. Sometimes I think I've still got my bags packed, waiting impatiently for the next plane to take us out of Holland and to glamorous Italy where most moms I know have gone.


But what exactly is so bad about being slow? In fact, there are innumerable things that are done more effectively if they are done slowly, like eating. Or lifting weights. Or speaking. Or driving (within reason). Or studying the scriptures. Or praying. Or breathing, for goodness' sake. I'm not saying there aren't benefits to being quick or fast, because sure, you've got to build those fast-twitch muscle fibers. Watching a slow basketball game would certainly take some of the interest out of it. And yes, taking a fast shower (which I do, to which my roommates can attest) saves water.

But I guess much of our culture and society isn't wired to the way of slowness--an employee can't even bag groceries slowly or people (myself included) get impatient. It seems unfortunate to me that so much of school is timed--"Okay, class, time's up, hand in your papers." For me, I reveled in the challenge of the time limit; the anxiety and stress were just impetuses (impeti?) to strive for greater academic greatness. I'm hoping Clara will get to use the "special ed" card and take her tests more slowly in school. I'm hoping she can find a job that will allow her to be more methodical and deliberate in her thinking.


I'm hoping I can learn to be more like Clara.

And you know what? I know how I can do it: preparation.

You might know that scripture, "If ye are prepared ye shall not fear." If I'm prepared in the morning, I won't be rushing Clara to get dressed. If I'm prepared for dinner, I won't be rushing Clara out the door to get Michael from school. If I'm prepared for the tasks of the day, I will live in the moment and enjoy Clara, instead of waiting impatiently for the art project to be done so we can do something else. Check check check.

Don't get me wrong--I think there is a place for speed. But the wise old tortoise was right:

Slow and steady wins the race.

An observation

Usually my hair looks like this.

If Clara's been driving me nuts, it might look like this.

About once every three years, it looks like this.

And if I'm really, really lucky, once a decade it'll look like this.

This weekend I got to sing with some of the members of the choir I sing with at an elegant, expensive fundraiser dinner. We sang songs from the 20s through the 50s--some of my favorite music, and it was a blast. The memory will last for a long time. Too bad the hair won't.

(In answer to your unasked question, it took about three hours for me to do it. Clara was very patient that day and watched too many shows.)

A compilation

You all rock! Thanks for the fabulous children's music suggestions. Since I thought you might appreciate them as well, here's a compilation of all of your ideas, as well as mine:

• Elizabeth Mitchell's "You are My Little Bird" and "You are My Little Flower"--folksy and calming
• "Jazz for Kids: Sing, Clap, Wiggle and Shake"--includes two songs from Ella Fitzgerald and one from Louis Armstrong
• Brite Music (I totally grew up with this--thanks for the reminder, Sheree--Clara loves listening to my "Safety Kids" tape)
• Susie Tallman--nursery rhymes, classic children's song
• Fisher Price's Little People Music--includes old favorites like "Mares Eat Oats" and great new ones "The Shoe Toe Tango" and "Traffic Lights"
• Backyardigans
• Primary Colors by Inside Out
• "Here come the ABC's" by They Might Be Giants
• "Family Tree" by Tom Chapin
  
• Disney and Muppet compilations--especially 25th anniversary Muppets
• Music Together--I have the "Bongos" and the "Sticks" compilations
• Teach Me Mommy--I need to do a post entirely about this, my mom's book, but she also has a great CD to go with the book
  
• Miss Abrams And The Strawberry Point 4th Grade Class (free downloads my dad found on emusic.com)
• "Snacktime" by BNL
  

Woohoo! I am so excited to try these out. I'm going to see if my library system has any of them (??) that I can get through inter-library loan, and we'll go from there.

Thanks for all your input. I now feel empowered to more fully broaden our musical horizons.

Step back in time . . .

. . . to the eighties, baby. Check it out.



You've gotta admit, it does have a good beat. Clara loved rockin' out to this sweet cassette from 1987 entitled "Fun-A-Rooey." Yes, it was produced for small children. My parents gave it to me awhile back. Did you realize that children's music changes as the mainstream music does? Obvious, I guess, but I find it somewhat disconcerting.

The reason for the time travel is because I am seriously in need of some new music for Clara. I am a huge fan of the music compilations by a company called Music Together, which I think is waaaayyy better than Kindermusik. I have two of their CDs, but they're a bit pricey. I also have a Laurie Berkner band CD--her music for kids is very fun and upbeat. My brother suggested a CD by BNL called "Snacktime." In addition, we have some other nursery rhyme CDs and a fun but quirky set by some Australian company.

The music we have is all great, but when you know what the next track is going to be and can start singing it in the right key, you know you've heard it too many times.

I loved all of your book suggestions when I was in dire straits--now I am asking you for your ideas again: What music do your kids like to listen to? (And I already have the Primary Children's Songbook CDs, but that doesn't count--I'm talking about fun, dancing music.)

I'm thinking that burning a CD of some New Kids on the Block hits might just do the job.

Our January experiment

(CAVEAT LECTOR: This is a super long post . . . I understand if I lose you before the end.)

This month, Michael and I decided to not spend any money . . . as in, no money in the areas that we have control over.

I got this idea from some blog (can't remember which) and a Readers' Digest article I read awhile ago and decided to give it a try. Because most of our budget consists of fixed expenses (rent, etc.), we didn't shave off a thousand dollars or anything, but we did save money. We unfortunately had to spend some money on medicine and annoying medical bills, and I had to register Clara for preschool for next year. But other than that, we didn't spend much money.

I purposefully avoided driving places that were too far away, so our total gasoline bill for the month was much lower than normal. And lower gas prices sure helped.

We didn't spend any money on entertainment, even resisting the temptation to get the $1 a night DVD at the Kroger movie kiosk when I was feeling very antsy. We got movies from the library instead.

Our household budget category totaled $2.07 for the month, and that was because I had to use up some Extra Care Bucks at CVS (but I did get 20 double rolls of toilet paper for that amount!).

We even found that our printer cartridge became the "cruse of [ink] that never failed" because we didn't want to spend the money to buy a new one. Did you know you can use that baby up on "maximum dpi" for way longer than it lasts when printing on "fastdraft" or "normal"? I didn't know that until this month. Live and learn.


The grocery category was the most challenging. We spent less than half of our usual budget for groceries, which mostly consisted of perishables (fresh fruit/vegetables, yogurt, etc.). This last week, I spent $3.60 on groceries. We've been eating a lot of food storage: beans, wheat, rice, powdered milk, oats, canned foods, and we even dipped into the food storage "lentil/pasta/rice" soup the other night. I have to confess, one night of that soup is all I can handle--Clara and I had some for lunch the next day and neither of us could finish our servings (Do you see that picture above? That rubbermaid container on the shelf has the leftover soup, which I am determined to toss out today.).

It wouldn't have been nearly so bad if I hadn't run out of flour last week. I ground some wheat flour at a friend's house and used that up, but then I ran out of that as well. I could have gone and ground more, but I was lazy and embarrassed.

The reason we did this experiment was three-fold: (1) to see how little we could spend, (2) to save money, and (3) just for kicks.

I learned a lot this month. I wish I could say that I was a hoarder by nature and hated to ever spend a penny. I recall my sister-in-law, L'Anita, saying that she hated to spend money. I wish I could say that!


Here are a few of the things I learned from our no-spend month:

1. I really really like cold cereal. Only having it once or twice a week was hard for me. But cold cereal is expensive, even with the coupons and store deals. I found that I ate more when I had baked something for breakfast (muffins, pancakes, etc.) than when we had cold cereal, which is another reason I like cold cereal.

2. Not having cold cereal in the mornings required more time and effort to figure out what we'd be eating in the mornings. Since we have one car and I drive Michael to school each morning, it was sometimes stressful. Cold cereal makes breakfast quick and easy. Did I mention I like cereal?

3. We could survive on our food storage for a couple of months. It would be no fun, and not nutritionally diverse at all, but we could. (Of course, now that we've eaten some of it, we need to stock up again.)

4. We need to make sure we have more baking supplies in our food storage, like enough oil and flour. I have a hand (non-electric) wheat grinder, so we could use that for wheat flour, but I was lazy and didn't use it. What I wouldn't give for an electric wheat grinder.

5. We could have spent even less money on groceries, but early on I bought some things I didn't "have" to buy, like yogurt and cold cereal (and we also bought ice cream and frosting once for Clara's birthday). As the month went on, I found I could forgo more of those "staples" (which aren't really staples, of course) that I purchased at the beginning, and at the end of the month I wished I'd spread out the grocery wealth throughout the month. All I can say is, I'm glad tomorrow is Fast Sunday.

6. Sometimes Clara and I go to Target or Wal-Mart or other places just because I want to get out of the house and it's too cold outside, I'm bored, procrastinating, or whatever excuse I find handy in the moment. This month, we hardly went anywhere because it's so easy to be in the store and suddenly think, "Oh yeah, we're out of dryer sheets and band-aids . . . better pick some up" when I really didn't need to, or even if I did, I wouldn't have been sure if it was a good deal because it was an impulse buy.

7. I was reminded how much I love the library. We normally go once a week--this month we went more frequently. What an inspiring piece of civilization: public libraries.

8. I love powdered milk. Don't get me wrong--I prefer fresh, but knowing there was milk in the house was very comforting.

9. Oats rock. Even though I am tired of oatmeal, I adore no-bake cookies, which provided a fabulous dessert in the desert.

10. Dried apple slices from the cannery (thanks, Mom and Dad!) also rock. We ate an entire #10 can in a couple of weeks (straight out of the can was great), and they helped give us our fruit servings as well as provide a snack when we needed something to munch on.

11. I need to look into more food storage friendly snacks. Pretzels got very boring. Oh, and canned peas are disgusting.

I am talking about our experiment not to brag because there are so many who live on much less, or absolutely nothing, every month, every year, and there are some who would look at my "sacrifice" as laughable, if not insulting. However, it has been an eye-opening experience for us, me mainly, particularly regarding the groceries. Having food storage is a tremendous comfort, and I am very eager to replenish what we have eaten this month. Feeling like there's nothing in the house can fill me with frantic anxiety; knowing there will always be something to eat in the house fills me with confidence and peace.

Michael commented on more than one occasion, "Why don't we do this every month? Or every other month?" Hmmm . . . I don't know about that, but I do know that I can do much better when it comes to frugality.

That being said, there's a lot more we need to add to our food storage. Can't wait for Monday's shopping trip . . . maybe at 12:01am?! (Kidding . . . I think.)

Can you tell what's on my mind?

That's right, spring! We're spoiled with relatively mild winter weather (compared to my friends in Minnesota and Wisconsin), but I confess I'm excited for some warmth. The header is a pic I took on a quick getaway trip Michael and I took back in 2006 to Callaway Gardens.

Also, on another note: I understand that san serif fonts (like this one) are easier to read--would you agree? Or do you prefer the serifs, which look like this?

High maintenance in training

I could pretend and say "princess in training," but let's face it, this is just pure glamour and accessories (never mind the royal lineage, stately bearing, and paparazzi). Clara got a belated birthday present from one of my dear friends in church, an older woman whom I've visit taught (and vice-versa) for over four years. Clara couldn't wait to come home and open the gift . . .

. . . and of course she had to try it all on. She shocked me by wearing the clip-on earrings as well (I told Michael, "Oh, she'll never wear those," because of her sensory freak-out issues). Apparently her sense of style outweighed her discomfort.

She later added the shoes, which she paraded around while grunting in pain. "Clara," I told her, "You don't have to wear those. Why don't you take them off?" However, she is a true fashionista at heart and knows that no pain = no star power, so she kept on keepin' on.

When it was time for bed, Clara insisted on wearing her tiara and earrings to sleep. (I have to say, doesn't Clara have the most lovely coloring? I'm slightly envious.)

This morning when I came home from the gym, I found Michael reading Clara's new self-imposed required reading, Fancy Nancy.

I think I'll start dressing her in potato sacks and teach her to appreciate the luxurious feeling of burlap on bare skin. That'll knock the diva right out of her, don't you think?

P.S. Clara went to bed in underwear last night and woke up dry! Woo-hoo!

The big quatro

Hi, I am now a mother of a four-year-old. How can this be?

Well, first she looked like this.

Then she started looking like this.

And this, at age 2.

Only a year ago.

Today.

I'm grateful that her eyelashes are still ever-present . . . as is that double chin (you should have seen pictures of me as a baby--my fat chin put Clara's to shame).

Trying out her new easel.

Happy birthday to our sweetpea. We're so glad she's ours forever.

Speaking of piracy . . .

You know how you get in a silly mood and you can keep kicking the dead horse and it's still funny? Well, Michael and I enjoyed that for a bit yesterday while walking with Clara to the park.

The joke that started it all:

Why couldn't the pirates watch the new movie? Because it's rated Arrrrr!


We just kept it going . . .

What's a pirate's biggest fear? Sharrrrrks!


And more . . .

Where's a pirate's favorite place to play? The parrrrrrk!

What's a pirate's favorite time of day? When it's darrrrrrk!


And it just got worse . . .

What's a Utah pirate's (we should say Spanish Fork area, ain't meanin' no disrespect, we love Spanish Fork Utahns!) favorite color? Arrrrange!

What's a Spanish Fork pirate's favorite utensil? A farrrrrk!

What's a pirate's favorite name? Marrrrrk!

What's a pirate's favorite superhero? Clarrrrrk Kent (that one was pretty bad)


Any more beating of the dead, mutilated, now unrecognizable horse is welcome. You know you want to.

A momentous day and Clara's first movie shoot

DIRECTOR: "Okay, Clara, we're ready. Just look straight at the camera, and tell me why you got an ice cream cone today."



DIRECTOR: "Cut! Okay, Clara, remember, the reason you got the ice cream is because you went poopy in the potty. Be sure to say that this time, okay? And try not to spill any more. Action!"



DIRECTOR: "Cut!! Clara, the whole purpose of the movie shoot is to commemorate your going poopy in the potty today, remember? Let's try again without mentioning Santa or having me have to prompt you. Action!!"



DIRECTOR: "CUT!!! Clara, Santa Claus did not give you that ice cream cone. Your mommy took you to Bruster's today to get a free baby cone because you told her you needed to go poopy in the potty and you did it all by yourself! Your ice cream cone is almost gone. We can only get one more take. Are you ready? ACTION!!!"



DIRECTOR: "Cut . . . (sigh) . . . well, that's a wrap. I hate to say it, Clara, but your movie days as a three-year-old are pretty much over. Maybe you have a future in piracy."

New goals to achieve, new summits to conquer

Yesterday I finally typed up my 2009 goals, as well as the goals that I have for Clara. There are thirteen for each of us. Actually, all of Clara's goals are really mine in a way, but they're just under a different heading so as to not overwhelm me.

I still use the same goal sheet format from the goals I had from my youngest years. Every new year for as long as I can remember, my dad would have each of us sit down to write our goals for the following year, and each month he would interview us to see how we were doing on our goals and also to help/comfort/be a listening ear for any other concerns. I greatly value the time my dad took with each of us, individually, to get to know us and see how we were doing spiritually, emotionally, academically, etc.

I happen to have a file folder with some of my old goals from past years. I always get a kick out of reading these. Among typical goals, like daily scripture study, frequent exercise, etc., I found these:

From February 1994 (age 11):

1. To create a business selling candy and ice cream during the summer vacation
2. To be able to stretch into a split [!]
3. To wake at the rising of the sun (during the summer), and to be in bed by 8:45
4. To increase my knowledge of sewing
5. To maintain a vegetable and flower garden

From January 1997 (age 14):

1. Put $10 in bank each month
2. Practice cooking 2 a month [I'm assuming that meant 2 times a month]

From January 1999 (age 16):

1. Stop popping my knuckles [haven't conquered that one yet]

This year, my goals for Clara are things that she needs to improve on based on my observation, her special education IEP (Individualized Education Plan), and her occupational therapist's suggestions. They include the following (among several others):

1. Dress and undress myself [Clara] daily
2. Learn to use scissors
3. Learn to draw a face, stick figure
4. Learn to ride tricycle
5. Be fully (day) potty trained by July 1

The things that I would love the most for Clara to achieve is to learn to be more compliant in following directions and to experience, and even initiate, more positive peer-age social interactions. These two areas are struggles for her.

Looking back on 2008, she has made progress in many areas. If it weren't for her challenges, we would be completely lacking in appreciation for these small, tender mercies that we experience throughout a year's passing. We recognize and are grateful for her less frequent meltdowns in overwhelming situations, for her letting Michael brush her teeth more willingly, for more eye contact and lots more hugs and kisses and more desire for our company and approval, for her learning to say a prayer, for her learning to sit on a "big kid swing," for her positive interactions with other adults and for learning to respond "Good" when asked, "How are you?" In fact, typing these all down brings tears to my eyes as I see her growth and development.

Even so, lately I have been struck by my habit of looking at Clara in terms of "progress": "How is she doing?" equals "How is she progressing? Is she catching up? Is she more normal?" I don't want to equate her progress with her value as a person. I've always been an achievement-focused person--always seeking for the best grades, perfection, involvement in lots of activities, etc. etc. I found my worth in whatI did instead of who I inherently was. Not that there's something wrong with valuing achievement because I feel that achievements and success are important. With Clara, I want to be grateful for her developmental progress, but most especially, I want to more fully rejoice in her spirit, in who she is. We know that she is not only our daughter, but more importantly, that she is a daughter of our Heavenly Father, and that He loves her perfectly and has sent her here to earth to succeed, to play an important role in His plan.

At times I blanch in anxiety over her future, but I have faith and hope that the Lord will help me and Michael, and help her, to become the person she is meant to be during her time here on earth. I know that through the Atonement of Christ, He will make weak things become strong (Ether 12:27). How wonderful to know that truly, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me" (Philippians 4:13).


So, looking to 2009, I hope to achieve these goals. But, as my husband likes to say, "Goals are stars to steer by, not sticks to beat yourself with."

Christmas Festivities

I must confess that my picture-taking this Christmas holiday was pretty pathetic. I don't know why I wasn't into it this year, but I didn't take a single pic of Weiler activities and only used the camera for Christmas Eve and Christmas day at my parents' house. Still, here are a few choice shots:

Ho ho ho!

A red trio--cousins Rowan (almost 2), Anna (about 3 1/2), and Clara (almost 4).

For the annual Christmas Eve buffet, we always have Christmas crackers (a British tradition). Upon popping open a cracker (which sort of looks like a present), one finds a paper hat, a joke (which are often corny and/or British, so we don't always get them), and a toy.

Clara got a pirate eye patch inside her cracker. She thought it was pretty awesome and went around saying, "Aarr!"

Christmas morning, we opened presents. Here Michael is opening the book that my parents had published of all the children stories that each of my siblings and my parents wrote. It is a hilarious collection.

My favorite gift was new socks--thanks, Santa! (Notice the pair of beauties I'm wearing in the shot above.)

We really enjoyed spending time with siblings and parents. Merry Christmas!

Gingerbread, er, graham cracker houses

Last night for Family Home Evening, we invited some neighbors over to make my family's version of gingerbread houses: graham cracker houses. I always grew up in the house-making shadow of my older brothers, who were much more skilled than I was. Not much has changed.

Clara was tenaciously attacking the M&Ms with such fury that only five got on her house.

It was amazing that mine/Clara's managed to stay up--royal icing truly is a wonder.

Angie and her little boy, Colin--he was quite as skilled as Clara at eating candy.

Michael's angled roof put mine to shame. It was fun to relive childhood memories (even the shame part) . . . perhaps this will be a tradition we will continue.

P.S. In the preceding post, I was being facetious about the whole "coal in the stocking" thing--we didn't tell Clara that; I was trying to get a shot of her in her Christmas dress in front of the tree, but she wasn't having any of it. Sorry if I misled you!

Clara, you're only getting coal in your stocking this year.

Her reaction.

Savor, don't swallow

I told Michael this morning that I read books like I eat dessert--I gobble them down in one bite. I need to enjoy a good book like a rich dessert, savoring each word and enjoying the experience. Gobbling books whole might make me a fast reader, but I know I'm losing out in the end.

But I can't help it, people!

Putting my reading issues aside, I am in sore need of a good read. Any suggestions?

If you hear stories like this . . .

. . . your dad might be a dentist.


This is the jist of the story I overheard tonight:

MICHAEL: (as he brushes Clara's teeth) Do you want me to be a robot or a king?

CLARA: A king!

MICHAEL: Ah, princess Clara, thank you for keeping your mouth open and letting me brush your teeth. As one of my loyal subjects, you will gain all the kingdom if you still have all of your teeth and keep them pearly white when you are grown.

And if I have other daughters who also keep all of their teeth, then whichever daughter has kept her teeth and has no (dental) restorations will gain the kingdom.

If one or more daughters fulfills these requirements, then the crown will go to the daughter who had no restorations in her baby teeth as well.

CLARA: (Silence.)

Anthropomorphism (or is it personification?)

Anthropomorphism: an interpretation of what is not human or personal in terms of human or personal characteristics

Personification: attribution of personal qualities ; especially : representation of a thing or abstraction as a person or by the human form

I am still not completely clear on the difference between these two terms, but needless to say, we use one or the other frequently--perhaps daily--to help entice Clara to do things. Clara is very strong-willed and does not like doing things unless it is her idea. This makes many daily tasks, such as getting dressed, a challenge, not to mention trying to teach her new skills.

For example, I'm trying to teach Clara to get dressed and undressed. Not only does she have difficulty with coordination, but she also just doesn't want to do it sometimes (often), or she wants to take for-ev-er to complete the task. I'm learning patience. Anyway, if she doesn't want to put on her socks, I'll have one of her feet say, "Oh no! I'm so cold! I need a sock to keep me warm."

She is such a sucker for things like that and almost always complies. It's pretty hilarious.

The examples are so endless that I am having trouble of thinking of more specific situations. The funniest part of it, however, is that she then wants to talk to the inanimate object (through me, of course). Another situation (this particular example hasn't happened, but replace "fork" with any number of objects and you get the picture) might go like this:

ME: Okay, Clara, please put your fork and plate on the counter.

CLARA: No! (Giggling as she runs away--at this point I can either physically bring her back to the table, which I sometimes do and hand-over-hand make her do it, or I can make a game out of it, as follows).

ME: (speaking from the fork as it dances around) Help me! Help me! I need to get to the counter! I'm dirty and want to be all clean! (don't ask me what a fork sounds like)

CLARA: (addressing the fork) Hi fork! (She then looks to me expectantly, waiting to speak as the fork.)

ME: (fork) Help me! Please!

CLARA: Okay! (at which point she would take the fork and plate over to the counter)


Clara not only wants us to be inanimate objects, but she loves it when we are not ourselves. At least ten times a day, especially if we've done an accent just in passing conversation for fun, she'll ask us, "Are you Count?" or "Are you a doctor?" or "Are you a teacher?" or "Are you a doggie?" or "Are you a monkey?" or "Are you a baby?" (The other day Michael was talking as he leaned over to pick up something and his voice kind of groaned. Clara told him, "You're talking like Oscar!")

If I'm tired of playing the not-me game, I'll say, "No, I'm just Mommy." Sometimes she's okay with that; other times she'll say, "Can you be a monkey?" or whatever it is that she wants. She is much more willing to perform and obey for any one or any thing besides me! It is quite a phenomenon. At least to us.


Today, we were working on sorting beads by color. Clara doesn't have a lot of patience/focus for things like this. If I say, "Okay, here's a bead--where does it go?", she'll do it for maybe a few beads and then grow tired or distracted or frustrated. So, today I sorted one bead per color and put them on her night stand. I told her that we were going to make families for each color. Using voices for each bead, I had them find their family (being a baby voice worked best). She even rocked one of the beads that was "crying" because it couldn't find its family.

She finished all the beads. Anthropomorphism, or personification, or whichever it is, you are a tool in my Clara Tool Kit.