Ode to Ben

I've decided that the first post on my shiny new blog will be about Ben and how nifty he is. So here are, in no particular order, a very few of the reasons why I love him.

He is an excellent father. Whenever he is home, at least one and usually all of the kids are mauling him. And when he's gone the kids spend their time asking me when he'll be home. When Elizabeth woke up from her nap today, she sat straight up and said "I want my Daddy!" and Will calls him "My berry best friend".

He can cook. Well.

He shares his laptop with me, even though it is hard.

He can juggle. Which is nifty all by itself. But the reason why is even niftier. While on his mission, he and his companion came across a man that said he'd hear the discussions if they would learn how to juggle. So they did. That wonderful man and his wonderful wife are now sealed and have six beautiful and happy children.

He likes old, twangy country music.

When he makes me watch a scary movie with him when I'm 7.5 months pregnant, he gets up and turns on the bathroom light for me every time I need to go potty in the middle of the night just because I'm a chicken.

He wanted to name Will "Thor, God of Thunder", or Dylan, because he loves Bob.

He never forgets. Not my birthday, Valentines, our anniversary, Christmas... nothing. And he always gives me something meaningful and thoughtful. It's usually something I've said that I want but would never buy for myself. And he still won't admit that he and my "secret admirer" are one and the same.

The man has no butt.

He is going to go to my family reunion this summer because I want him to. He's not really looking forward to it, but he's going because it is very important to me.

If he feels something is right, he'll do it no matter what.

If he understands something, he can teach it to someone else. No matter how difficult the concept is.

He is hilarious. Seriously. Funniest person I know.

He is very wise and spiritual. He makes sure that we have daily family prayer and scripture study. I look forward to those times of the day as much as the kids do. We all really miss him when he has to work late and we have to do it without him.

He can play the saxophone.

He researched and studied and compared bikes, just because I said that I wanted one. And then he bought me one, just because he loves me.

In high school, he was the president of the physics club. I have my own resident geek!

Even if he's had a crappy day, he always asks how my day went first. And if it was hard, he asks how he can help. And then he actually does whatever I tell him will help.

He lets me put my cold feet on him to get them warm. The man is a human furnace.

When he makes a mistake, he's quick to apologize and to be better.

And last but not least:
He listens to me. He really tries hard to give me what I need and to be mindful of my feelings.

And just to make this a well-rounded entry, I asked the kids what they thought the best thing about their Daddy is. Here is what they said:

Will: "He takes me to the gas station and even when he tells me no about something I still like him"

Elizabeth: "He reads me stories and has a fuzzy chin" (well she said puzzy chin, but she meant fuzzy :P)

Ella: She smiled and laughed. I think that her response quite perfectly sums up how we all feel.

5-Months-Old, Give Or Take A Day Or Two*

Five months! Where has all the time gone. I know I say that a lot, but really, you are growing up too fast. You are a joy and a blessing. You can make anyone smile, just by looking at them. You brighten our days and fill our home with your special spirit.


*Or a week or two. Whatever. You may notice that the date on the picture is days after you actually turned 5-months-old. If you weren't so kissable, I'd spend more time on my blog and keeping it up-to-date. But since you're so wonderful, I'd rather spend my time with you. You're growning up too fast!

I Can't Make Stuff Like This Up

Yesterday, my son asked me if he would still have to get his immunizations if he were homeschooled. He's FOUR.

And then last night we went out to eat. While we were sitting at our table, Ben told me about something that our son had said earlier that day. Apparently they were watching a show that was all about extreme crashes. After one of the crashes, he turned to Ben and said: "What in the Sam Hill was that guy thinking?" So Ben was telling me this. I laughed, of course. Right at that moment, in a restaurant full of people, our son loudly replied: "Well, at least I didn't say HELL!"

Oh Joyfulness!

Ben decided that he needed a laptop for school.

And I've decided that it should be MINE, ALL MINE, bwahaahaaha!

Ahem,where was I? Oh, yes. The laptop. It rocks. Not only is it a laptop, but a tablet as well. That means that I can write on the screen. Which also means that I can have one hand free to hold my baby or *beat my older kids. You know, whatever the particular moment calls for. I've already drawn a bea-u-tee-ful picture with it. Unfortunately I can't figure out how to save it as a jpeg, so you don't get to see it. I know, sad, huh.
Maybe now I'll be able to get my blog caught up. I know, I know, you can't wait. :P


*OF COURSE I don't actually beat my children. Sheesh.

No More TV For My Sweet Little Boy...

Every night I tell my children stories from the Scriptures. Tonight I told them the story of the widow's mite from the New Testament. When I finished, my 4-year-old son had some questions. "Why didn't other people help her, mom?" and "Why didn't she just go out and get a job?" I answered his questions and he got quiet, obvioulsy not satisfied. I could tell that he really wanted to figure out a way for this poor widow to have what she needed. Suddenly his face lit up. " I KNOW!!! She should just get SMC!!!" "What is SMC?" I said. "You know, mom, that place where you can be your own boss and make your own money!"

The Martyr and The Glut

Today I decided to make some brownies. As I was mixing them, I was telling myself that they were for my children, but really, they're for me. My thoughts of said delicious brownies were interrupted by my son. "Mom, what are you doing?" He said. "I'm making brownies" I replied. "Ohhhh Mooooommmm! You are so niiice! But Mom! You reaaaaaly don't haaave to make us brownies! I know that it's sooooo hard and I reaaaaly don't want you to feel like you haaaave to make us yummy brownies!" Right then, my 2 year old daughter piped up with: "Me want to eat yummy brownies! And me going to eat them aaaaallllll by myself!"

My Children Make Me Laugh

We've decided to buy bunk beds. You see, our 2-year-old is apparently related to the princess from The Princess and the Pea and it is PURE torture for her to be required to sleep in her toddler bed. So we, trying to be proactive, have decided to buy bunk beds because our baby daughter and our 2-year-old will probably always share a bedroom, and we'd probably eventually buy them anyway. So this whole bunk bed business is breaking my son's heart. He can't fathom anything cooler than sleeping in the top bunk. So I, being the kind and loving mother that I am, said that if he was oh so good that maybe, just maybe, he could sleep on the top bunk. So, with all of that background, here is the conversation that I overheard my 4-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter having tonight.

4-y-o: I'm going to sleep in the top bunk!
2-y-o: No you not! No no no!
4-y-o: Yes I am! Mommy said, and Mommy's in charge!
2-y-o: No YOU NOT! It's my yoom and ME in targe! I dit to sleep on the top bunk!
4-y-o: Mooooommmmmm!!!!

But wait, it doesn't end there.

I was working on cleaning up the last of the straggling Christmas decor tonight. I asked my son to throw the gingerbread houses in the outside trash. He picked his up and left the room. A little while later, I noticed that my daughter's gingerbread house was still on the table. I asked him to throw that one in the trash too. This time I happened to be standing in the entryway by the front door. Much to my surprise and shock, my very smart, good, sweet, honest, almost 5-year-old son stood on the threshold of my front door and chucked his sister's gingerbread house right out onto the sidewalk. It fell to pieces among the remains of his own house that had been previously chucked, unbeknownst to me. "What in the HECK are you doing?!?!?!" I asked him, totally shocked. "Have you been out there tonight, Mom? If I go out there, my toes will fall off!" was his reply.

Good Grief. Good freaking GRIEF!