Showing posts with label boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boys. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The One With the 6:00 a.m. Wakeup Call

Casey went to Big Bear Friday night. Big Bear got six new feet of snow that day. Chains required, roads closed. Probably not the best idea, but he and his friends were determined. I went to bed that night thinking of him, and also of Ethan, flying in from Virginia to his new station at MCRD San Diego. Suddenly my eyes flew open. The phone was ringing. It was dark. That is never good news, right? Check the clock: 6:00 a.m. I jumped out of bed and flew down the stairs to just miss the last ring of the phone. My mind, which had been occupied by weird dreams only seconds before, began to quickly generate scenarios, none of them good.

Caller ID: Ethan. “Mom, I’m in the barracks in San Diego.” Mmm, okay...? I just found out I don’t have to check in until Sunday night. Can you and Dad come and get me? Mmm, okay.

I climbed back under my down blanket and thought, just a couple more hours of sleep, and then we can go get Ethan. Two minutes later... let’s just go now. We drove down the coast for an hour and twenty minutes. After four straight days of drowning in rain, the skies were bluer than normal, and the hills greener. Everything freshly washed and glistening. Lance Corporal in the back seat. All well with the world.

Apparently Casey had texted Dillon at 2:00 that morning to let him know they finally made it up the hill in the snow Dillon didn’t think it was important enough to tell me that until Sunday on the way home from church. Fortunately, I am not a worrier.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

The One Where My Boys Strike Back

Well, my last post was pretty hard on boys… at least one in particular. The fact is, I feel a little sorry for Cowboy. He used an unfortunate analogy and almost certainly regrets it. Don’t get me wrong… he should regret it. But I have to play devil’s advocate here and write one for the boys. As it happens, I usually take the boys’ side in everything. Maybe that is just an occupational hazard for a mother of six sons… not to mention the fact that I have so many other friends who happen to be boys/men… like all the missionaries who have lived in our home... and I think of them all as my boys. In fact, when I was called to be the teacher for the 16-18 year-old girls in my church for three years, I was a little shocked, and more than a little worried. I wasn’t sure I would be able to like them all that much. I had never had much use for girls. On the whole, they seemed much louder, meaner and more sophisticated (in a bad way) than boys.

To my happy surprise, I loved the girls. They were beautiful, unselfish and fun, and they have become some of my best friends. That was a nice thing to discover, especially as my own boys were reaching the age where they have begun to marry. My oldest son picked one of the best ones I have ever met, and married her. That is certainly an encouraging start, right? So, back to my boys… all of them, whether my sons or not. If the girls deserve a boy who is willing to climb to the top of the tree, what do my boys deserve? More than they are getting, in a lot of cases, I’m afraid. When they call to tell me their dating experiences, I am constantly dismayed by what girls put them through. It is bad enough that girls play mind games with each other, but as boys usually are more straightforward in their interactions, it is most unfair to play mind games with them. Many of them are not equipped for that sport, and the good ones don’t want to play.

Here is what my boys deserve:

1. A girl who is beautiful. But beautiful in the right way… a girl who is unfailingly modest in dress, speech and actions. One of the standards of my church is to dress modestly… something that most of the world thinks is rather strange. But my boys deserve nothing less. Whether you see her at the beach, at church, shopping, or just on Facebook, she should be modest. Let me be clear here… this is not because I don’t want the boys to think bad thoughts. My boys can master their thoughts. It is something much more important… it marks a commitment to covenants they have made. And no double standards either... my boys are modest themselves. When my daughter Cambria was about two, she was pointing out swimsuits that she thought were “pretty.” I told her they weren’t very modest, and I asked her if she knew what modest meant. She very smugly told me, “Yes. It means ugly.” We laughed about that for days, but I am here to tell you that it does not mean ugly. I am a big fan of beautiful, stylish modesty. It is really easy to say that most of the girls wear their skirts too short and their swimsuits too tiny, so you can’t judge a girl by that standard. But I know girls who are unfailingly modest. They stand out like a bright light from the girls who are not… and my boys deserve nothing less than that.

2. A girl who is honest. No ex-boyfriends that aren’t really ex. No saying things she doesn’t mean. No pretending to feel more or less than she really does. No treating my boys like a plaything. Honest.

3. A girl who is unselfish. She needs to care more about others than herself, because that is how my boys are. I have worried, in the affluent area where I live, that DK and I have spent the last twenty years raising sons who can support a family, while my neighbors have spent the same years raising daughters that my boys can never possibly afford to marry. My boys are not just finding a girl to marry; they are finding a mother for their children, and that is about a hundred times more important.

4. A girl who is kind. She must be kind to her friends, kind to her family, kind to children, and… kind to my boys.

5. A girl who is better than my boys. Or at least they think she is. She needs to be so amazing, that they behave better around her. They try harder, and reach bigger goals, because she makes them want to be better men. She safeguards their virtue along with her own. She reminds them of how great they are, encourages them, sets a good example, and yet still follows wise counsel. Every one of my boys deserves a girl who is better than they are.

So come on, girls. It’s time to step it up a little. Be more to get more. I told you the apple analogy. You can never be that rotten apple sitting on the ground waiting for any lazy boy to scoop you up and take a bite. You are better than that. My boys are better than that. You might wonder how you can compete in a world of girls who use tricks and sexy clothes to get their way. Don’t think for a single minute that my boys can’t tell the difference. Yes, there are boys that are looking for those girls. But I will tell you right now… not my boys.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The One Where He Is Testing the Fences (or How Little Boys Are Just Like Velociraptors)

This is my grandson Jif. (Yes of course it is an alias... I mean, who names their firstborn after peanut butter?) What I like the best about Jif, is he is smart. I know what you’re thinking… you’re wondering, how could I possibly know he is smart? He doesn’t even talk. Remember, though… I’ve had little boys once or twice before. And I am telling you that even though he can’t talk yet, my little grandbaby is smart. Smart enough to test the fences.



My boys were smart, too, and as I have mentioned before, my first three I had in three years. My first five, in eight years. So naturally they were a pack… united against their common enemy… me. They were like those velocipraptors in Jurassic Park… smart and fast. Do you know the ones I mean? Early on, Dr. Grant quizzes Muldoon, the Aussie dino wrangler, and the conversation goes something like this:

MULDOON: They're lethal at eight months, and I do mean lethal. I've hunted most things that can hunt you, but the way these things move...
GRANT: Fast for a biped?
MULDOON: Cheetah speed. Fifty, sixty miles an hour if they ever got out into the open, and they're astonishing jumpers...

I felt that way at times as well. They moved at cheetah speed. And my sweet baby Casey was not only an astonishing jumper, but quite the climber. I pulled him out of my grand piano once. Oh... and creative beyond belief. Josh once made pancake batter on my wood floor with a 10-pound sack of whole wheat flour, a dozen eggs, and… well, I won’t even say how he was watering it down.

But after all is said and done, it is the intelligence that will get you…

GRANT: Do they show intelligence?

MULDOON: They show extraordinary intelligence, even problem-solving. Especially the big one. We bred eight originally, but when she came in she took over the pride and killed all but two of the others. That one... when she looks at you, you can tell she's working things out. She had them all attacking the fences when the feeders came.
ELLIE: The fences are electrified, right?
MULDOON: That’s right. But they never attack the same place twice. They were testing the fences for weaknesses. Systematically. They remembered.

Eerie, isn’t it? I have seen my sweet little angels do just the same thing. I thought I was smart until I had my boy pack. This problem-solving ability referenced by Muldoon, while not always evident in their schoolwork, was definitely utilized torturing babysitters, making messes, or, as he so aptly put it, “testing the fences.”

Eventually poor Muldoon ended up with Dr. Ellie Sattler when the fences went down.
ELLIE: We can make it if we run.
MULDOON: No…….. we can’t.
SATTLER: Why not?
MULDOON: Because… we are being hunted.

Muldoon was shortly proven correct, as the velociraptors acted in a concerted pack effort to hunt and kill him. As the cunning female closed on him with her razor-sharp talons, he uttered the classic line: “Clever girl…” (you have to imagine that in his Aussie drawl.)

And then Muldoon was Dino Nuggets.

I’m not saying this sweet little baby is a bloodthirsty dinosaur with lethal weapons for hands (Although I have heard him, on occasion, make raptor-like sounds). And obviously Jif has it all over the lizard in pure cuteness.

All I’m saying is, his mommy and daddy need to watch out. Because every once in awhile he looks right at you… and you can tell he is “working things out.”

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The One Where We Just Ran From One Thing to the Next

I’ve been under the gun. Last week of school. Visit from my mom. Beach party. Graduate party. Eagle Scout Board of Review. Packing for scout camp. And the list goes on… but it’s all good.










The ocean was beautiful:




At least someone still finds time to have fun: Felkner, Murray, Dillon, Skippy


And here are my lime cookies I took to the grad party. (The recipe for the lime cookies is the “Citrus Variation” of my best sugar cookies. Here are all my favorite variations: Sugar Cookie Variations. You gotta try these… I’m serious. They are cool and tangy:


And check out the creative cupcakes Michon and Kerstin made:


I think I’m going to have to start getting up in the middle of the night to get my songs done! Somebody save me…