Everything's In Working Order

Thanks, everyone, for the warm wishes and thoughts on Luke's surgery. I was away from the blogging world yesterday, as nearly every second was spent with Luke in my arms, so I'll have to spill my "confession" next Friday. :)

The surgery went great (as well as getting your genitals sliced can get, I suppose) and he is home healing. He's tender and has some major redness (more like purpleness), puffiness, and bruising in the area of the two stitched up incisions (I'm not posting pictures, don't worry), but he seems to be himself again, for the most part, as of this morning.

I have to be careful what positions I put him into, and I have to double-diaper him for a week. Also, no straddling anything for a while (whether it's the walker, saucer, or my hip), and hopefully, after a week or two's time, he'll be better than new.

Getting up at 2:45 a.m. and driving to Phoenix was difficult, but I really couldn't have asked for it to go smoother than it did. The surgeon also found a hernia while in the process, and fixed it up. Apparently, that's pretty common for an undescended testicle.

I'm just so grateful for the convenience and blessing of modern medicine. And I owe the smoothness of the whole process to the many prayers that were offered. I am one blessed mama.

This is the most precious picture to me. This was before they took him back, oblivious to it all.

Back view. So cute in that tiny hospital gown.

Me and the babe, right after meeting with the anesthesiologist, and right before they took him from me. 

Recovering, and slowly coming out of the anesthesia.

Later that night, laying in bed with me. I was surprised to get such a big, beautiful smile.

In closing, and in honor of Sam--who is sick in bed with the flu right now--here are his most recent Samisms:

• Watching me dump three scoops of formula in Luke's bottle last week, he asked, "Mom, is that baby seasoning?"
• While at a stop light in Prescott, my eyes were wistfully glued to a vintage Karmann Ghia across the way (which I love, by the way, for reasons I might delve into another time), and Sam says, "Mom, why is that car so cheap?"
• He calls space ships "space shits." And I don't correct him. I even bring his toy one to church with us because there's something hilarious about him yelling, "Josh, give me my space shit!" in the middle of sacrament meeting.
• While wearing an old, favorite t-shirt of mine I hadn't worn in years the other day (actually, the same one I'm wearing in the above pictures), Sam said, "Whoa, Mom! Your shirt is stylish!" Yeah...Savers-chic.
• I couldn't find Zeus a couple days ago and Sam matter-of-factly said, "He's probably out taking a dump." Thanks, Dave.
• When asking him what snack he wanted, he replied, "I want crackers, the moldy ones."
• This morning I caught him and Josh hugging (they do this frequently and it makes my heart skip a beat EVERY time), and when Josh reached up to give Sam a kiss, Sam scolded, "Josh! We don't kiss on the lips! We are boys, and boys can only kiss on the cheeks."
• Yesterday morning, while wearing just a t-shirt and his underwear, he got off the couch--where he'd been playing with his doggy (his favorite stuffed animal who frequently gets the blame for naughty things and loud, annoying noises)--and told me, "I need to get some pants on so Doggy doesn't see me in my underwear."
• This isn't really a Samism as much as it's just an example of his personality. I was changing Josh the other night (no, he is not potty-trained yet) at the end of a very long, stressful day, and I wasn't just on the edge; I was hanging off, by my pinkie. And because kids feed off the stress of their parents, Josh was tormenting me, making it as difficult as he could. And Sam stood by watching. Josh threw his disgusting, bursting-at-the-seams-with-urine diaper on my head and I thought Sam was going to bust a gut from laughing so hard. I barked, "It's not funny, Sam!" The tone in my voice would have scared me as a kid, but instead Sam sobered and said, "Actually, Mom. It is funny. Really funny." And he was right. It was kinda funny. I ended up laughing.

Lesson Learned: Going to Bed Hungry

*Post inspired by the TRDC RemembeRED prompt, "Lesson Learned."

Write a post that either starts or ends with the words "Lesson learned." 

Written from my son, Sam's, POV.

"This'll be the last time I tell you to eat." Mom's eyes are on fire, her voice stern. It cracks, and spit even sprays from her mouth. She acts like she means it, but she can be a pushover sometimes. I know how to work her.

"But Moooom, pee's coming out!" I say, crossing my legs and doing a little dance in my booster seat. Mom hates when I pee in my underwear, even a little.

"Nice try." Her voice is hoarse now. Probably from all the yelling. She says it's not yelling, that she's just talking firm, but the vein bulging in her neck says it's yelling. She even cussed once. Surprise, surprise.

"You only have two options," she continues, hand on her recently chubby hip. "You can either go to bed hungry, or eat and stay up for ten extra minutes." She doesn't mean it. Mom would never let me go to bed hungry. She loves me too much.

"But, Mom...the pee..." I continue to dance, adding a whimper to the plea.

"You can pee your pants, for all I care. Sit in your own pee. But you're not getting up from that table until you're done. Not unless you want to go to bed." Her eyes bore into mine, telling me she's no joke. But on the inside I still laugh.

On the outside, I groan.

She glances at the clock, and so do I. The position of the long and short hand tell me it's after seven o'clock. And I know that means it's after bedtime. Mom's time. She sighs, her face turning red, and looks back to me. I'm starting to wonder if she's getting serious now, after eight threats.

Now she stomps over, huffing, and yanks my chair away from the table. I scream and cry because I'm four, and what else am I gonna do? "No, Mom! I'm hungry! I'm really hungry!"

"If you were hungry, you would've eaten your dinner. You had the last hour and a half to eat, so don't try that on me! It's bed time. You can go to bed hungry." Oh. My. Gosh. She actually means it.

"Mom!" Tears stream down my cheeks, and so does slobber. I like to make a good show.

She's dragging me down the hallway, heading for that darkened doorway. My room. She wouldn't dare.

I scream louder, cry harder, pleading. "I'm soooo hungry! I want to eat!"

But when she puts me in bed, turns off the light, and closes the door, I stop screaming. I cry silently, stunned she actually put her starving child to bed.

Through the door, I hear, "Maybe next time I tell you to eat, you'll listen."

My tummy grumbles and I can still smell the taco casserole, untouched on my plate.

Lesson learned.

Davenport 411

Lately, my blog has been full of fun posts, gripe sessions, writing exercises, and pictures, so I thought, in the midst of all that, it was time for an update. Especially with the news we got yesterday.

Luke
Luke had his six-month checkup last week and is in the tenth percentile for weight and height, so even though he's small, he's proportionate. He loves rolling around on the floor and is just itching to get up and go. He'll be figuring out the scooting/crawling thing any day now. He started on solids a few weeks ago and absolutely loves to eat. Loves it.

He loves to mimic sounds and we have some pretty lengthy "conversations" together. His new favorite thing to do, besides smacking his lips together, is spitting and blowing bubbles. Which I love, because that means Sam has to out-do him in the "spit" area. And spitting isn't a pet peeve of mine at all.

We had Luke's follow-up urology appointment in Phoenix yesterday, and I had high hopes. Especially after the last appointment a few months ago, when the doctor said the chances of surgery were slim and he was feeling hopeful. He'd said that if the testicle continued to drop at the rate it had been, chances were, we'd be able to leave it be.

That's what I was expecting. But, to my surprise, the testicle is still pretty high in his lower abdomen and it hasn't budged since he was four months old. So, now my little guy needs surgery.

They can't get it scheduled until about two months from now, so in the meantime I will keep an eye on it and if it miraculously comes down on its own, we can cancel the surgery. But it's very unlikely that that will happen. So, until then, I'm trying not to get too concerned, like the overly emotional mom I am in situations like that. I'm putting off the stressful worry until the time comes. Trying not to dwell on the way it feels to have a baby under a year old getting surgery, even though I've been through it twice with Sam.

And it's not like I have anything to worry about. The risks are very low (if any at all), it's a standard surgery, and on top of that, it's out-patient. No staying at a horrid hospital. They're just going to make a small incision where it's at, bring it down and "tack" it in place (in a nutshell).

And that way, even though his risk of testicular cancer is now 10-14% higher because of this, it will now be more available to monitor throughout his life, and will allow it to continue developing as it should (to say the least).

Josh
Josh is my cuddle-bug, and I hope he always will be. He is doing SO great with his speech and talking all the time now. Even when I don't understand what he's saying. He's started putting two, and sometimes three, words together and even says a couple sentences. His speech therapist is so proud of him, and so are we. The first time I heard him say, "Mommy, what's this?" I about peed my pants.

He loves to copy everything his older brother does, but still has a stubborn mind of his own. He still loves giving hugs, and I'm not so sure I want him growing up. Ever.

He calls every letter of the alphabet E, O, and I, can count to five, calls every color yellow or blue, calls pie (and any sugary treat) cake, loves to sing his heart out (one of his favorites is Tonight, Tonight), and calls himself Spongebob when he wears his yellow shirt.

Oh, and he still loves to eat paper. And I'm still stumped on why that is and how to get him to stop. It drives me nuts.

I just had to add this silly picture of him from when he was about 9 months old, because it shows his lovable cheesiness perfectly.

Sam
Where do I start on Sam? Between all his Samisms, laughs, hugs, "I love yous," and smiles, Sam drives me up a wall. Like, I really think I might go bonkers most days. And I feel guilty that he gets on my every last nerve, because our kids aren't supposed to annoy us like that, right?

Well, whether or not he's supposed to, he does. And it makes me remember just why I've never really liked kids. Because four-year-olds are the worse.

But they're also the best. The most forgiving, and the most loving. Even though you yell at them all the time, to the point where you aren't even sure when the last time was you spoke at a normal level. He's super super stubborn, doesn't listen when we tell him no, bites back at every turn, and screams in a way that makes my skin crawl.

I do love him, though. So much. He's my intelligent old soul. We were talking about old souls the other day and Sam came to mind. From the first moment I looked into his eyes at the hospital, I've known he was an old soul. And who am I to raise such a strong, intelligent, wise spirit in this world? Me, who has the worse temper known to man, who falls short all the time as a mother and wife.

It's humbling, and I feel put in my place every time I look into his eyes. Like even though he doesn't realize it, he knows so much more than I do.

Anyway, here's his latest Samism (I couldn't resist):

• Calls Josh "Dude" sometimes.
• Then follows up with calling him a "Loser." Not so happy about that one.
• When I told him not to step on a certain piece of paper on the floor, he replied, "I'm stepping on your mom." Guess we should stop the "yer mom" jokes around him.
• Has always drank his sippy-cup in a "Sam" way, from the side so he can see all that's going on around him.
• Found Dave's padlock and asked if it was a timer for robots.
• Told me when I was talking in an Australian accent that I needed to "stop talking like an old man."
• When seeing the Bush's Baked Beans at the store, he says, "Can we get some secret family recipe?"
• When I tell him to stop whining, he says, "I'm not whining, I'm complaining!"
• Says "Aw, tarter sauce!" when something bothers him.
• Made an imaginary world on the other side of the elliptical called "Ketzwell," and escapes there frequently.
• When looking at his sandwich I made him, he pointed to it and said, "See this mustard?" I said, "Yes..." Then he whispered, "It's made of puzzles."
• Watched us playing Phase 10 one night and said, "I used to play this card game all the time, when I was a grandpa."

Precious, lovable, quirky four-year-old.

Me
I made it a goal to get back into my exercise routine every day, because in seeing recent pictures of me, I realized just how "wide" I've become. And it's hard for me to swallow. Plus, I have to get in shape for the cruise we're going on September 2012. It's a must. So no more eating a sleeve of oreos at a time, or eating junk at 10pm. And no more eating until I'm full, and then some. I will change my eating habits, and I will get in shape.

I just finished completely rewriting my first novel, which was unexpected, since, really, it was hopeless. And since I have tunnel vision and can't focus on more than one project at a time, that's the only thing that made up the minutes of my free time, after the kids went to bed or while the boys were napping (on the days I actually could). I started it just for fun, but then, in falling in love with the characters all over again, I realized I couldn't stop and I wanted to re-create their world. So even though the story still has no hope, in the sense of this dog-eat-dog publishing world, it's still so much better than it was and I fell in love with the story all over again.

Next, I'm going to start re-editing my other novels, the ones with more promise in the publishing world. And since my kids and my writing are really the only thing of merit about me, there's nothing else to really report on. I'd report on Dave, but aside from the point that there's nothing really to report on other than the every-day grind of his job, he doesn't like me getting into the personal stuff. I still haven't converted him to my blogging ways.

So, until I do, that's about all.

He never fails to please.

See that little cut on Sam's chin?  That's what happens when a four-year-old thinks they need to shave just like Daddy does. It doesn't matter how many times you tell him not to get into Daddy's raiser because of how dangerous it is, or that if he does he might die we might need to rush him to the hospital.

Oh, and he's also convinced he needs to wear deodorant now, too. Old Spice. On his forearms no less.

And you want to see what happens when I leave him alone with Luke for five minutes?

Yes, those are stickers. I should have known he was up to something when I heard his jaunty laughter from the other room. Poor Luke had no idea he was being made a mockery.

Even though I want to ring his neck sometimes (like when I look out the window and see him with his pants around his ankles, peeing in the backyard for the fifth time, even though I told him NOT to pee outside), I really do love the entertainment Sam provides. So here are some more Samisms:

The other day we had a babysitter watching the kids for an hour while I tried to have my hairdresser fix the hopeless mess of crap on my head my hair, and she asked him just how smart he was:

Sam: I'm smarter than my dad.
Katie: What about your mom? Are you smarter than your mom?
Sam (enthusiastically shaking his head): No!

Ah, I've taught him well. (Happy Father's Day, honey.)

A few days later, he and Josh were going all throughout the house, getting in trouble wherever they could, and I noticed that Sam was the one persuading Josh to do all the "bad" things. I don't know if you've seen that show on Discovery called Dual Survival, but this is on quite a bit in our house since it is Dave's favorite. And Sam is always saying how "awesome" those guys are.  So when I got after him, Sam's exasperated reply was, "Mooooom! Me and Josh are playing Discover guys!"

He also likes to play Dave's X-Box 360 game, Black Ops (Don't judge), and we get a kick out of watching him intentionally try to kill himself. Jumping off cliffs and roofs, running into a pack of dogs. Or my favorite, facing a wall and then throwing a bomb at the wall so he is killed in the blast. He laughs almost harder than I have ever seen him laugh.

A bit deranged you say? Well, we find it absolutely endearing.

He loves to exercise on the "Beliptical" (elliptical), too--even though his tiny string bean legs can barely reach the pedals all the way around--and gets mad if we try taking the remote and interfering.

Hmm. Maybe he gets that from someone.

And when he cut himself on the leg the other day and I asked if he was okay, he soberly assured, "It's okay, Mom. I'm not dead."

Phew.

I love my son and all his little quirks, and that he eats Oreos slowly by pulling them apart, licking off the frosting, and then eating the "bread part." And how he does "letters" on my laptop. We spy on him when he does, laughing so hard at the way he tries to type like Mommy and sings Rolling in the Deep as he does.

I can't wait until Josh talks more so that I can start posting "Joshisms" as well. For now it's still just the cute tone of his voice when saying certain things, like "Thank you" and "Yeah."

Latest Samisms

What Not to Wear:

When I got back from getting my hair highlighted on Friday (I'm blond again...like really blond!), Sam inspected my hair and asked if I went to "What Not to Wear" to get it done.

I wish.

Then he went off to play "What Not to Wear" again--which is him trying on all my shoes, including my high heels, and walking in front of the mirror and saying things like, "Oh, you look great!"

No, I'm not worried.

Death Row:

Yesterday, we were driving through our neighborhood and a small, old lady was driving the car in front of us. When she turned (slowly) onto a side street, Sam said, "We don't go on that street because it's a street for old people, huh?"

I laughed.

Then, as if that wasn't funny enough, he added, "When we are old, like 100, do we go on that street to die?"

Even more laughing. And because that was a hilarious concept agreeing with him is sometimes easiest, I said yes.

Davenports Lately

Other than participating in Mama Kat’s "Pretty Much World Famous Writer’s Workshop" this week, my blogging has been nonexistent for the past three months. And it’s not that I haven’t had anything blog-worthy happening. It’s been a very eventful, crazy-busy past three months, and since I’m way past due, I’m just going to condense it all into one blog post, pictures included. So...*takes a breath* here we go...going in (kind of) order.

I already blogged about my sister, Heather, and her family (the Lees) coming in the beginning of February, but shortly after that, we had an asbestos problem in our house. I won’t get into all the dull details, but basically, we had to move out and were living in temporary housing for about two weeks while they took care of the problem. And it was the most luxurious mobile home I’ve ever seen. Just ask my mom and dad, or Dave’s dad and his sister, Mary, since they all just so happened to be visiting during that time. Yeah. Huge bummer. Anyway, it all worked out.

Like I said, my mom and dad came to visit during that time and though I hated that we were in that state of limbo when they were here and it kind of put a damper on everything, I absolutely loved having them here. The boys loved having Grandma and Grandpa “Colfart” here and I was so glad they got to meet little Luke, who was about six weeks old at the time. Thanks for all your help, mom and dad, while you were here. And thanks for introducing Sam to computer games, Grandpa. Really. A day hasn’t gone by since then that he doesn’t beg to play them.

Unfortunately this was the best picture we could get of Grandma and Grandpa "Colfart" with the kids...


The week after my mom and dad left, Mary and Grandpa Meyers came (Grandpa for just that weekend and Mary for the entire week). Again, the timing was poopy because it was our last week living in luxery in the mobile home and it was quite possibly one of the most boring weeks of Mary’s life (I’m guessing). But she was a HUGE help and a lifesaver, because on the day we moved back into our home, she was there helping me with the kids the whole time. So even though you probably never want to come back, we loved having you, Mary, and we so appreciate all you did!


The same day that Mary left, Jessica, Dave’s other sister, came to stay with us, and she was here for a week as well. Lucky for her, we were back in our home by then and all moved in. As always when she comes, it was a ton of fun and we loved having her, too. And in about two weeks, Dave’s other sister, Jenni, will be coming for a week! It’s been so awesome having everyone come. It makes us realize even more how much we miss having family close.


Then, to add to it, my sister, Cindi, and her family (the Lindsays) were here for about a week a couple weeks ago. Sam and Josh loved it, because they got to see their cousins Aaron and Abbey. It was the first time everyone was really old enough to play together and I just loved seeing the boys play with their cousin. I wish they had them closer. They had so much fun, and Sam asks to see Aaron all the time now. They also slept in the same room together. Let’s just say we adults didn’t get much sleep. Enough said. But we would have them again any day and the lack of sleep was worth it!

Cindi and I being silly with lots of makeup on.

Sam, Josh, and Aaron eating their hot dogs at the river.

Abbey and Luke.


We also had Luke’s baby blessing on March 6, when he was exactly two months old, and we were lucky enough that Grandpa Meyers and Aunt Mary were here for it. It was beautiful, and he wore Josh’s blessing tux from Aunt Nadine. Mostly what I remember from it was feeling overwhelmed with the realization that my boys will all be adult men someday, getting married and having kids of their own, and that thought just kind of blew me away. I can’t imagine it. The joy, yet the sadness of separation. It makes me want to treasure these years with them even more. My beautiful blond boys.



Your baby blues, so full of wonder,
Your curly-cues, your contagious smile.
As I watch, you start to grow up,
All I can do is hold you tight,
Knowing clouds will rage and
Storms will race in,
But you will be safe in my arms.
Rains will pour down,
Waves will crash around,
But you will be safe in my arms...
-In My Arms, Plum

Sam started T-Ball in March and that has been going as wonderful as can be expected! He is learning, as is the whole team, and I just love watching him out there. There might not be much structure or many rules, and they might not keep score, but I’m a proud mama sitting in the stands nonetheless. There’s just something about it. I love watching my little blond string-bean batting left-handed and standing in the outfield with his glove on and his huge hat falling over his eyes as he kicks the dirt and wonders what he’s really doing out there.

The cutest T-Ball player ever.

Waiting on second base.

Josh watching through the fence and wishing he could play, too.


He is getting funnier and smarter everyday (and more trying, I must say), and I have had people tell me I need to start keeping a book of “Samisms” because of all the funny things he says. One thing I’m not enjoying, however, is that he’s entered a lying stage, just this last week actually. His most famous phrase this week has been, “I don’t know.”

Me (seeing a kitten slide across the floor and crash into the cupboard): What did you just throw?
Sam: I don’t know.
Me: Don’t lie, Sam. That makes it worse and you will get an even bigger punishment for not telling the truth. We don’t lie. Tell me again, what did you throw?
Sam: I don’t know.
Me (face reddening, patience diminishing, just wanting him to admit to it already): Sam...
Sam: It was nothing, mom. I threw nothing.
Me: You’re lying. I saw the kitten you threw. Did you throw a kitten?
Sam: It was Josh.
Me (huffing with rage, but keeping it inside): That’s not true. I saw Josh, and he didn’t throw it. I want you to tell me what you threw.
Sam: I threw...a magnet.
Me: You’re lying again!
Sam: It was that hat right there.
Me: You really think I’m dumb, don’t you?!
Sam (dramatically shaking his head): No.
Me: Then tell me the truth! If you lie ONE MORE TIME, I will send you to bed! This is your last chance. WHAT. DID. YOU. THROW?
Sam (sighing): A kitten.

And so it goes. And this type of thing has been happening every day, about five times a day for the past four days. I hope it’s not a long stage.

Onto Josh. Well, since we moved Luke into the crib and into the guest-room-slash-office (Hallelujah that we have our room back!), we have moved Josh into the toddler bed and Sam into their new bunk bed. I was worried about this at first because Sam did very well with the toddler bed at Josh’s age, and since Josh does everything opposite than Sam... Anyway, it hasn’t been that bad. He generally stays in bed when he is supposed to, so I have been very proud of him. That--along with his first haircut that made him look like such a big boy--has pulled him further out of his baby stage and more into his toddler/little boy stage.

Before the haircut (Gosh, I miss those curls!)...

...After.

Both boys after their haircuts.


He’s even been doing better with his speech. His speech therapist, Ann, comes once a week and it’s been a great success. Sam and Josh both look forward to her coming every week and literally jump up and down with excitement at the window when she pulls up. They love her toys she brings them and the attention she gives them. She’s just wonderful.

He’s still not at the level he should be, but we see a definite progression and she is not worried about him at all. He will come around soon, and he is showing a lot of strength in every other area. She has confirmed my thoughts that he is a very smart boy, but that it just wasn’t showing because he wasn’t verbalizing anything. She thinks he will be an engineer or a mechanic, with the way he loves to use his hands, and very precisely. But he is learning to use more sounds and say more words every single week, along with the fact that he sings ALL the time now. It’s also been harder on him because of his always, ongoing congestion that he never gets a break from, which turns him into a mouth breather. Which makes him want to talk even less.

Luke is still very healthy and this past week has had his first cold ever. He’s been stuffy and I’ve had to use the annoying booger syringe on him a few times a day, but other than that he’s been doing great. He’s started sleeping much better now, too. I get two good, long naps out of him a day, put him to bed around seven, and he gets up about twice to nurse in the night. He still has difficulty with nursing, but he is doing it better now. And for longer.

He seemed really small to me, and to everyone else who sees him, but at the doctor last week we discovered that he is in the fiftieth percentile for height and the thirtieth for weight. So at least he’s well on the charts. Also, his "lost" testicle came down during the last month and now he probably won't need surgery at six months old! YAY! It's not all the way down, so they still need to monitor it, but it's making progress.

About six weeks old...

About 8 weeks old...

My baby and I at almost 4 months old (about 2 weeks ago).


He is laughing and smiling ALL the time, even though he is a high-maintenance baby. He NEVER wants me to leave his side and makes his frustration known when I do. Just ask Dave. And anyone who’s stayed at our house for over a day. He has this high-pitched cry that just makes Dave want to bang his head against a wall, too. Definitely a mama’s baby. But when he’s not mad (and even sometimes when he is), he is always ready to smile and laugh. And mostly at Sam. To him, Sam is the funniest person in the world, and I love watching them laugh together.


All my angels are so precious to me. I just love love love being the mom to three beautiful, and sometimes yucky, boys.

We’ve also had some other babies in our house. In the beginning of April, Bauer (our cat) had a litter of five kittens: three black, one gray, and one grayish striped one. They are absolutely, teeth-grittingly, squeezably cute! So precious and small and fuzzy. I think I had forgotten just how cute kittens were and I’ve loved having them here.


But. They will turn into big, annoying cats someday, and we are going to be getting rid of them in the next month or two. So if anyone knows anyone who wants a kitten...let me know. (Pretty please)

I decided that once my novel(s) are out of editing stage (a friend of mine is being my critical eye), I will start the querying process again. The quick, always easy, simple querying process (sense the satire). I think by then, I won’t want to pull my hair out as much because Luke will be a little older, and I’ll be able to devote a tad more time to it. My friend, Steve (whose opinion is valuable to me in this area), is currently going over Prayers to Russell, and then will be going over The Exception later on. It’s always so hard to know what works and what doesn’t, and there’s only so far you can get editing on your own. Eventually, you come to a point where you need that outside opinion, that outside pair of eyes. And not just someone reading it and giving a generalized statement about the work, but really breaking it down and saying why or why not certain things work/don't work. And it’s really difficult for people in their busy everyday lives to devote that kind of time to helping me out, so again, Steve...thanks SO much! I owe you.

And, as always, if there is anyone else interested in reading my work, I am always willing and open to that. Even if it’s just for a casual read. Even the most generic opinions help.

In the meantime, to keep up my game, I decided to start participating in—another plug—Mama Kat’s Pretty Much World Famous Writer’s Workshop (see last two posts). Not that it will give me any writing credentials, but it’s fun. Every week she offers five different prompts, I pick at least one, and write on it. Just to keep me writing. And to keep me blogging. :)

Aside from that, I recently entered a short story of mine (my only) in the Writer’s Digest Annual Writing Competition. I had written a short story a year or so ago, and when I looked back at it about a month ago, I was absolutely HORRIFIED. So, I based it off of that, but completely rewrote it. I submitted it a couple weeks ago, but won’t know if I even placed until about October.

Anyway, here are some other pictures to illustrate what we’ve been up to. And next time I will do better at blogging as life happens, so that the posts aren't so long. :)

Dave, Sam, and Josh before a bike ride.

Sam showing off his new Star Wars Bed set on he and Josh's new bunk bed (he picked out the Star Wars theme all his own)! Josh doesn't get to sleep in it for another couple of years, but he wanted to be in the picture anyway.

Sam and Josh on Easter after their egg hunt in the backyard.

Cuties at the park.

Kids Say the Darndest Things...

Sam's Funnies:

"Dad, I'm a white guy." (Said loudly in the middle of the passing of the sacrament in church yesterday...when it was silent)

"We're home now Grandma, so I don't want you to talk to me anymore, bye." (He'd been talking to Grandma Coltharp on the phone while we were driving and when we pulled into our driveway, he interrupted their conversation with this)

"Mom, will you go in your room so you don't see me playing with the hose outside?" (Because he thinks I'm stupid...)

Sam's First Testimony

Today there was hardly anyone at church due to Labor Day weekend, which meant testimony meeting was a little slow. During the awkward silence, when no one was getting up, Sam decided he wanted to bear his testimony (after seeing his friend, Daniel, do it). Basically, we learned our son is a natural speaker and has no problem getting up to speak in front of people, and to our surprise, as soon as he got to the microphone, he just started talking up a storm, bearing his testimony of goldfish and his brother going to time-out, etc. I can't remember it all because, frankly, I was a little embarrassed (anyone there probably knows that because my face was SO red!), but here's the gist of it:

Good morning everyone! (copying what Daniel said) My name is Sam! And I just ate goldfishies, but Daddy had to take brother to time out, and I read books...

Anyway, he went on and on, and the reason I was embarrassed is because we all know a testimony meeting isn't a talent show for our children and Dave was just letting him go on and on because he was laughing too hard to stop him. So amidst laughing and being the proudest mom for thinking I have the cutest kid alive, I was thinking "wrap it up!"

Then finally Dave leaned down and Sam finished with loving Jesus and Heavenly Father and his family. Anyway, it was just adorable and I was so proud of my son, who just seems to be a natural-born speaker. Hopefully that doesn't mean he will be a politician....