New York Hall of Science

I love this photo--it is a little piece of furniture glued to a dollhouse in the playroom. But in another sense it makes me think of my goal to some day have a home that feels absolutely beautiful.







Going to the museum with the kids can be such an ordeal. There are several factors involved:

• getting ready--clothes, diaper/snack bag, camera, wipes, money, wallet, keys, notebooks, pens, phone . . . getting out the door, walking down the stairs, going back up the stairs to get something we forgot, going back down the stairs, opening the doors without someone getting smooshed behind them, walking out to the sidewalk (S delighted us with a "I'm so happy to be doing something" dance--which I loved and made me smile), going to the car, getting children seat-belted in, calling friend scheduled to come with us, picking up friend, getting her kids situated, etc.
  
• When we get to the museum there may or may not be a super long line to get in. The goal of the parent with multiple children is to keep an eye on all of them at once--even the ones running towards the parking lot, laughing hysterically.
• Finding out how much it costs and paying if needed or just getting the tickets while making sure the children are behaving themselves--like not talking the ear off a stranger or running past all the security guards into restricted areas.
  
• Corralling the children together so we can stay together--this can be especially challenging in a crowded museum.
• Finding a place where we can all sit down for a few moments--like for a short, educational movie or show (we saw the Bubble Show).
• Making sure everyone is smiling.
• Making sure the snacks hold out.
• Taking every one to the bathroom and that everyone washes their hands.
• Keeping us together.
• Turning frowns upside down.
• Absolving fits.
• Getting us out of the museum.
• Loading people into the car.
• Getting some snacks.
• Drive Home through traffic.

Now to tell you a little about the New York Hall of Science. It is a wonderful place. It is the most educational and welcoming place I think I have seen. It is a little more hands on than a childrens museum, I think.

We had a glorious time with the bubble show and the preschool room. It was so beautiful outside. Thank you Kristin! You and yours were so delightful. We had a terrific time!

Martha Stewart Show

. . . Martha Stewart Show . . .

They have a great way of setting a mood at the Martha Stewart Show. They put an emphasis on enthusiasm. So of course, my friend Nicole and I practiced all of the things they asked us to say. We were really excited about getting the Oooohs, Ahhhs, and Mmmmmms just right so they would give us some of the fabulous left-over show stuff.

"Ooooo"

"Ah"

This was Joey. He could make peppy cheerleaders' pep seem like yesterday's flat pancakes.

There was a camera that was right next to us (it felt like it was right on us for at least 1/3 of the time). We both agreed we felt like we had the perma-smile pasted to our faces. It was a constant state of "am I sitting up straight?" "Is there stuff in my teeth?" Talk about self-conscious.

After all that stress, we did not get the perks of extra free stuff. But we had a glorious time. We got lots of free stuff (jelly belly jelly beans, a crystal bracelet, and fluffy stuff).

Happy Birthday

Yesterday R went to a birthday party at the really fun Bounce U place over by the 3 Guys from Brooklyn grocery store. He had a marvelous time bouncing, going down slides really fast, racing his friends (and mom). I raced the other moms through the obstacle course. I lost, but I think it was because I was pretty winded from playing with R., I was rather humbled. But . . watch out next time though. :D

Last Saturday we were very blessed to be able to go to the temple with the bishopric. Thankfully, the Relief Society Presidency members, Kristin and Ashley, watched our kidlets. Our kids had been looking forward for a few days to seeing their friends (RS presidency's children and the Bishopric's kids) at the church. Here are a few pictures. The picture of the kids was beforehand--you can see they were so excited they could barely open their eyes--or was that because the sun was shining into their faces. :)

My dear friend Martha, the Bishop's wife.

To Curl or Not to Curl

You know how I cut S's hair, right? You know all those adorable ringlets that she has had for awhile, well either they've left permanently or have gone on sabbatical because they have only left a back-up wave. Sniff. Her hair is much easier to do, fewer stubborn Bedelia tangles. But the curls . . . (feel free to imagine the ultra-dramatic music only black and white version of me in a pioneer dress wailing).

Do not worry. I have a secret weapon--the curling iron. Wink, wink.

Does anyone have any good ideas on informing your daughter that the curling iron does not hurt?

And in case you wanted more for your scooter pleasure. . . introducing S and her scooter video 1. You also get a close up of the sidewalks of Brooklyn.

My favorite words were, "You're the nicest mom I ever seen" and "Wha hoo!" I forgot the word "video" which happens when I'm filming so I substituted with the less effective "picture."

Eye, It's a Miracle.

The other night I was doing pilates with T. He decided to do pilates with me. I was doing rocking like a ball (or something like that) and as it turned out he was drawing . . . and his pen was faced upwards . . . and backward I went and zap the pen hit less than an inch below my eye.

The Lord is definitely looking after me!

Delights with S

Today as S and I were walking she was working on getting things right with a scooter I found at the thrift store for $5. She was riding carefully with the exception that she aimed right for people's legs. Thankfully she is such a cutie that they would smile at me with a nod. I would of course say, "Excuse us, sorry" or "Beg your pardon."
Later we went to buy some shoes (which look like ruby slippers--except that they are bright pink--of course) and S on several occasions said what I thought was, "Beg your pardon." It really made me beam with a righteous pride.
On the way home she asked, "Mom, what does 'thank you, pardon' mean?"

We gave her a hair cut today too!

S with long hair.

Short Haired Sarah

See the shoes?! She is so proud of them!

Realizations of a Mother that is Trying

Dear Readers:

This is a letter to Ideal Me. She is an imaginary being--but sometimes can seem so real. Sometimes she's a little snobby. We just had to have a heart-to-heart chat. It was time. It is really long--so you don't have to read the whole thing. It may sound murmur-ous, but it was time to re-think Ideal Me and what better way than to write it out.

Gratefully,M



Dear Ms. Could-a Should-a Would-a Ideal Me:For many years now I have admired you from afar. Your perfections staring me in the face like a bright beam from a car in the night. Everything about you gave me something to aim for, something I felt I could achieve--yet being just ever so slightly out of reach.
Maybe it was your perfect complexion, the way your home and car were as neat as a pin. Perhaps it was that your children were always well behaved--no matter the circumstance. Your car had no dents; your teeth were straight and white. You always arrived on time--usually ten minutes early. Your clothes were pressed. Your family's clothes were always color coordinated. You never forgot things. . on and on.

I used to think you really gave me something to look up to. Something that I could achieve soon if not nearly right now.In high school you always made me feel like I could be doing something more. Undoubtedly I could have, but right at that time I was doing all I could, even with bouts of laziness. When those teachers that were too busy to really grade papers that would ask students to rate themselves on how they felt they did in the class--instead of rating how much you worked in the class--you always felt I could have done more and you pushed me to write lower than what I probably should have. Then those teachers would often use that grade to add to my GPA.
Now that I am at the epitome of my high school imaginings (as a 20-something-year-old) I cannot hope to achieve your lofty ideals for me. I will say, I have done what I could.
But, Ideal Me of the present--I think you need to back off. It's not that you don't have your good moments--you do. But much of the time you look at me with that glare--you know the one where guilt burns me with the power of a flame thrower because I am not doing absolutely everything I should or could be doing. You seem to belittle the good things I do--which may or may not be monumental for other people--but are for me. You act like I've accomplished nothing.Sure I may not be perfect, or even near perfect. But I am striving to live the Gospel, love my family, love myself, and to receive the love given me by those around me. I am working on being the best I can--even if it seem infinitesimal in comparison to others I admire.

I am going to celebrate the little victories of mine. You can glare all you want. I know the Lord loves me and yes wants me to be better, but realizes that I can only do better little by little. It is time you and I, Ideal Me, determined that we can be happy with that.For right now, I am going to zealously live the Gospel, cherish the moments with my growing and sometimes needy and whiny--but on the whole delightfully wonderful children and husband (and me). I'm going to accept me the way I am. I'll accomplish one thing at a time--like a bite of food, there is no way I can eat a whole plate full of food in one bite. It must be eaten forkful by forkful. Each taste of life will be savored for future joyful remembering.
Ideal Grandma me that I see in the future--it is okay for you to keep smiling. Undoubtedly I'll be one of those super good-natured grandmas that never forget birthdays, send cards, go on several missions and when I die thousands of people will come and will say, "She changed my life for good."Lovingly,

The Real M

The painting picture is from here.

Primary Music CD's

Our ward Primary Chorister, Brother Thomas, made CD's so the kids can practice the music for the Easter Sacrament Meeting. I am striving to listen to them at least once every morning. S and I go through them together singing the songs.

This morning she came to me and said, "Mom, is that song true?"

I said, "Yes."

Then she said, "He loves all of us? Every one?"

I answered, "Yes, he does."

She said, "I love him too!"

YES! Thanks Brother Thomas!

What would you do?

On March 2, 2010 I wrote and deleted the following post (with a few corrections):

Just this morning my neighbors were smoking (again). It smelled a bit sweeter than regular cigarette smoke and from what I understand that is what marijuana smells like. It was seeping through our bathroom vent--and then through the hallway.

First I would just like to state that having people smoke around my children does not make me smile--I would rather look at them with an eye of consternation, show them a chart of what their liver probably looks like--compared to what it should look like. Then I would give them the non-swearing tongue lashing of their lives declaring that their independence of smoking around my children--even if they think is so secretive in their bathroom--is having an effect on me and my kids.

This morning I hit a breaking point. I stomped into my bathroom and yelled for all I was worth at the tip-top of my lungs "STOP SMOKING! WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SMOKE IN YOUR CHILDREN'S FACES? WE CAN SMELL IT!!!!"

Upon reflection I realize this was very immature (I am ashamed--it was not a proud moment in my life), maybe it was a side effect of unintentional inhalation. But I cannot stand the smoke coming into my house--they have kids too. What are they thinking?

A few minutes later I could smell a very strong room deodorizer. Ha!

What would you clear-minded and cheerful individuals do in such a situation?


-----
Today

I am not sure which of my neighbors is using pot. Because yesterday as I was walking with my kids home from school there was a group of teenage boys outside my apartment and one of them said, "Is it okay if we're smoking this here with those people?" One of the other boys said, "Sure, if they call the cops we'll just leave."

I should have answered him, "No, we would really appreciate it if you wouldn't smoke at all and donate the money you would have spent to a worthy cause--that will make you generous and happy. "