More Pictures of MEEEEE

I'm Eighteen Months

It's been a long time since I've guest-posted, I know you've been wondering about me.

Eighteen months is the second right of passage in life if you are Mormon, it's the age where you begin to attend nursery the final two hours of the three hour block on Sunday. My mommy and daddy, and the entire relief society and priesthood, couldn't be more excited. During the announcements in relief society each week, the person conducting asks the ladies if there is anyone with "good news." People usually share the birth of a child/grandchild or the engagement/marriage of a loved one. In twelve years of relief society, my mommy has never shared "good news," until today when she raised her hand and said, "Hippo is finally in nursery!" A loud cheer went through the crowd of ladies. The lady conducting said, "He wasn't too bad..." and my mommy gave her a look to remind her that Mormons believe in being honest. The lady conducting quickly changed the subject.

I didn't have any problem going to nursery like some kids do, some cry a lot but not me. I ran in and didn't take a second look back at my mommy and daddy. When they said "bye" to me I ignored them. They came to check on me half way through by peaking at me through the window of the door; I pretended not to see them because I was having too much fun playing telling a little girl off who took a truck I wanted. We learned about prayer in nursery and I think my teachers were impressed I already know how to fold my arms and say "Amen!"

Speaking of telling off, I talk A LOT, pretty much all of the time. If I am quiet for more than two minutes in a row my mommy suspects I am either sick or doing something I shouldn't be doing. Sometimes I talk in gibberish but most of the time I use my words that I have learned. Just this week I have started to speak in phrases or small sentences. For example, "UP, PLEASE!"

It may surprise you that I know the first few letters of the alphabet. It surprised my mommy and daddy several weeks ago when we were out playing on the farm and I went over to a farm truck to look at the license plate and when I saw the letters I began singing the A-B-C song. Another time I surprised my mommy was when I saw, on one of my alphabet toys, a picture of H is for Hippo and I went over to it, pointed, and said, "Hippo." And yet another thing that shocked my mommy was the other day when I stood up in the bath pointed to my crotch and said the correct anatomical name for my male genitalia.

I absolutely LOVE being outside. I request to go "outside" several times per day. I like to help my mommy water "flowers", weed, harvest her vegetables (especially grape "tomatoes" that I eat right off the vine), dig in the dirt, walk over to my grandma and grandpa's house all by myself, "jump" on the trampoline, play in my sandbox, ride on my "tractor", ride on my grandpa's "tractor" and "trucks" (which I request/demand first thing when I wake up each and every morning), take walks to the store/library/park, swing under the apple tree, mow the lawn with daddy, help on the farm, play with the neighbor "dog" and "kitties", look at "planes" in the sky, eat dinner al fresca, etc., etc., etc.

I also LOVE going places (I ask my mommy to leave the boring house by saying, "bye" and running to the garage door to pound on it). I like to go anywhere and even though I have bad behavior in restaurants and at church I love being out and about. I am still very friendly to friends, family, and strangers.

Another thing my mommy and daddy find incredible is that, now for several weeks, when I go number two I inform them I have "POOP!" in my diaper. They say they are glad I tell them but not so glad I demand to be changed immediately.

I am now walking really good and I am working on going up and down steps and running. I still don't climb much which makes my mommy and daddy rejoice.

I like to "help" my mommy do laundry, dishes, and yard work. I like to pet the "kitty" "gentle". I like to play with my "trucks" and "tractors". I like to eat "snacks" and "lunch". And I like to do "make up" with my mommy.

My favorite food is probably tomatoes right now in addition to my old favorites: strawberries, "oranges", peanut butter, "cheese", pretzels, and "cookies" of course. My mommy made cream of fresh tomato soup the other night for dinner and I LOVED it so much I wanted "MORE!"

My temper tantrums have gotten a little bit better, probably because my mommy and daddy have gotten better at dealing with them appropriately. I don't mind going to time out very much and I often nod "yes" when my mommy and daddy ask me if I need a time out to calm down. Most days I don't have to go to time out but some days I have to go to time out a lot; it just depends on how cooperative I feel like being.

I'm getting skinnier since I can walk and run now. My mommy and daddy are sad to see my chubbiness go but they think I am "cute" no matter what.

I still love music and my mommy and daddy still show me music videos while I eat or to calm me down. My current favorites songs are Airborn Toxic Event's "Sometime Around Midnight", Kings of Leon's "Use Somebody", Taylor Swift "You Belong With Me", George Straight's "Living For The Night", Beyonce's "Sweet Dreams", Boys Like Girls' "Love Drunk", Shakira's "She Wolf", Green Day's "21 Guns", and Colbie Caillat's "Falling For You". I DO NOT like Mariah Carey's "Obsessed" and I HATE everything from Daughtry. My mommy says I have good music taste. I still like it when my mommy sings to me, especially the ABC song.

Besides my trucks and tractors, my favorite toys are still my "books." I don't really have a favorite book anymore because I like them all. I ask my mommy and daddy to read me a "book" if they sit down for more than 30 seconds. I look forward to bedtime or "night-night" because I know that they will read me four books every night.

That's all I can think of to tell about myself. If you have any questions of course you can leave them in the comments and I will get to them as soon as I can.

Sick As A Dog

As my sister would say.

I should have known something was amiss Monday morning when I not only didn't feel like going to the gym but I chose not to go.

Monday afternoon the symptoms began to present themselves: watery eyes, dry throat, sneezing one hundred times in a row (I'm not kidding), and thin mucus which would fall out of my nose if I bent over. By the time L was home that night and Hippo was finally in bed my throat was on fire, I couldn't breath out of my nose if I laid down, and my head felt like it was going to explode. It was the worst sinus headache I can remember--that's a big feat because I have seasonal allergies from h-e-double hockey sticks, as my brother would say.

I could not sleep that night despite L going to the 24-hour pharmacy to purchase some relief for me.

Luckily, I worked the next day.

Things were looking up when I woke up Wednesday with nearly every orifice on my face oozing thick yellow mucus.

I calculate I lost no less than $400 for calling in sick both Tuesday and Wednesday; and of course I had to cancel my private clients as well.

I also missed an important meeting with the organization through which I hold credentials, a business lunch meeting, and some beautiful weather.

On the bright side of things...

Since I was scheduled to work, L was scheduled to be home with Hippo. Nothing beats being taken care of, I'll tell you what. Hippo helped by screaming loudly nearly all day long, napping less than 90 minutes, jumping up on me, wanting me to read him a long book every five minutes, and giving me hugs and kisses every now and again.

I hope I feel much better soon, the house is looking a little shabby.

Eight Years Ago...

Today, I met L. It's been, bar none, the best eight years of my life.

Except eight years ago, today, it was a Tuesday. I thought the world was going to end; turns out, it didn't. And my world, from eight years ago, has gotten better and better and better.

The Moment I Lost It

Our church service changed from 9:00 am to 12:00 pm to 11:00 am to 2:00 pm today. During that time, in a typical day, Hippo plays outside (a critical event in each day as he can verbalize his desire to go "outside" millions of times until he is accommodated), eats lunch, and takes a nap. The way our church goes, those things just will not be possible. Hence, the best way to describe my experience for me and those within a 15-person radius of Hippo today was the exact opposite of Heaven.

I use an empty and dark room for time out during church. Hippo spent a large portion of 11:00 am to 2:00 pm in that empty an dark room today, mostly screaming like a dying hyena.

And when he wasn't in the empty and dark room, he was throwing toys and farting.

Since it was church, I kept praying he would just poop and get it over with...those prayers were unanswered and the farting continued.

By the time I got home and got Hippo into bed, I was plum worn out.

That's when I heard a strange hissing sound coming from the refrigerator. Going over to inspect it I saw nothing out of the ordinary and a quick temperature check yielded perfect freezing and cooling temperatures. So I ignored it and took a well-deserved nap.

I was woken by a VERY LOUD hissing noise coming from the refrigerator and I went to inspect again. This time I found some water dripping from the filter underneath the doors. I grabbed a kitchen towel and figured L would take a look at it when he got home from work.

By then Hippo was awake from his nap and when I got him up he informed me loudly he had, "POOP!"

I brought him downstairs after the diaper change and as I rounded the corner, in the kitchen, to the garbage can to deposit the soiled diaper, I slipped on a large puddle of water and fell on my butt. I got up and laughed a little while my tail bone stung and my eyes tingled with tears. Then I heard another, smaller thud and turned to see Hippo had slipped and fell in the same exact manner I had. I picked him up and comforted him and discovered water covering nearly the entire kitchen floor. He continued to cry as I put him down to assess the emerging crisis.

Pulling the refrigerator out gave no more information as to the problem. I desperately called L who completely blew me off. Hippo cried on.

An hour later, when six bath towels were no longer holding back the leak I desperately called L again leaving a nasty message (or six) and then a nasty text message (or six). And Hippo cried more.

When L finally called me back he gave me some sorry excuse about saving lives. I informed him our HOUSE WAS FLOODING! He told me to turn off the water on the back of the refrigerator. THERE IS NO SWITCH THERE! He told me to go downstairs and turn the valve off on the copper tubing. When I got to basement I discovered water FLOWING OUT OF THE CEILING! I violently swung open the door of the utility closet and realized verbally, IT'S REALLY DARK IN HERE AND I CAN'T SEE A THING!

That's when L said, "Oh, the lightbulb is probably burned out. Is that Hippo crying hysterically?"

Did you remember reading the part of the story, above, where I switched 'on' the light switch? No? That's because I hadn't...yet. L knew, 35 miles south in the depths of the University Hospital that the lightbulb in our utility closet was burned out. Hmmm.

That was the moment.

The one where I lost it.

The Library, The Witch, and The Olive Garden

Yesterday the library was a stop on our errand list. When we arrived Hippo donned his usual hypo-manic mood and began laughing hysterically, pushing books back on the stacks, pulling books off of the stacks, throwing books, running away from me, and then very loud breathing resulting from all of the running, and squealing when I would snatch him up.

It was the middle of the day and the library was surprisingly busy: several people on the computers and nearly all of the cushy chairs in the magazine area were occupied. I noticed, as I tried to keep Hippo sort of appropriate, that he was the only kid there. Sure it was during school hours, but he was the only person under the age of even five there, let along under the age of 18.

Being socially anxious I grew worried Hippo's behavior was annoying other patrons until one lady complimented me on Hippo's hair-do, a young woman snickered at Hippo running by the catalogue computers, and the young women's male companion openly laughed when Hippo snagged his foot on the burber and face planted it just before hitting the check out counter head-on. Finding that others thought him cute and funny I stopped hurrying about to find suitable reading material and took a little more time to enjoy one of my favorite place in the world. After all, I reminded myself, this is a kid-friendly place.

As I began to check out my things the librarian noted I had a $3.80 fine. I knew I had ample change in my wallet to cover the balance and noting there were no waiters in line behind me I thought what a great time to unload the extra weight. Hippo continued to run around and he found himself behind the "book holds" counter. The librarian, there, began to have an age-appropriate conversation with him until I arrived to escort him back to our pile of books. I apologized profusely for his obtrusive behavior. Upon arrival, I realized I had dropped my library card. The maneuver of bending down to pick up the card and slipping it into it's slot in my wallet took about 15 seconds, but unfortunately required me to drop Hippo's hand. Sensing the freedom he took off toward the direction of the "return books" desk and seeing a seemingly friendly librarian he walked behind the counter and screeched, "HIIIII!"

Do want to know what she said to him?

She said, as if talking to any of the adult patrons at the library at that particular moment, "You need to go back out there." and pointed, with a head gesture, to the area behind the counter.

I was furious. She wasn't rude in her voice tone at all. So it took me the 2 mile drive home to figure out what made me so angry. How in the world would a barely walking child understand such adult language, voice tone, and body language? AND, not suggesting my child is above redirection (remember, he is the child that knows a Mom says, "NO, NO, NO!"), what was so wrong with him wanting to say "hi" to her anyway? He didn't touch a thing, and if she would have paid attention to his body language he was staring directly at her and that he stopped directly in front of her.

But more, I realized that a child maybe twice his age would have been more attuned to her aloofness and felt badly about themselves for their attempt at friendliness. I think this is what really drove it home for my anger. How dare she make a child question their friendliness? How dare her teach MY child that the world is not a friendly place at all.

I thought, seriously, about turning around and driving back to the library to ask that particular librarian if she has ever seen the movie "Life is Beautiful" and if she hadn't suggest she view it ASAP and if she had, remind her that protecting children from the ugliness of the world--protecting their innocence--is important...much more than "employee only" zones at the local public library.

We ended our day of errands at the Olive Garden where the yearly promotion "All You Can Eat Pasta Bowl" is going on. We ate to fill our tummies and remind us, "Don't get mad, EAT...A LOT."

P.S. This was after we shared, from Costco's snack bar, 1 churro, 1 berry smoothie, and 1 hand-dipped ice cream bar with roasted almonds. Oh, boy...my Costco shopping experience gets better each and every time I go.

Should've Been A Cowboy (or Cowgirl)

Several years ago I had this co-worker who liked to sing. He had theme-songs for many of the group home residents with whom we worked. He would sing, "Eye of the Tiger" when a resident would get angry or overly worked up. He would sing "Why Do Birds Suddenly Appear" when talking about his heart's desire. And he would sing "I Wanna Talk About Me" to me.

***

A few months ago I was having lunch with a therapist friend and we were discussing ways to effectively deal with the stress of the job. I mentioned I work out quite a bit and that I keep the volume up on the IPOD as to block out any unwanted thoughts about work or clients. He asked me about my workout playlist and I repeated my workout favorites including Beastie Boys, Cyndi Lauper, Kings of Leon, Dashboard Confessional, Shakira, Toby Keith, Snoop Dogg, and U2. His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered a little bit and then he said, "You listen to Toby Keith?" I could feel my face redden a bit. He continued, "I wouldn't have taken you for the type to listen to Toby Keith."

I hadn't really meant to let the cat of the bag. It was one of my biggest secrets.

But, since the cat is now out of the bag...

I HEART Toby Keith.

I know nearly all of his songs' lyrics. Of the 100 songs on my workout playlist--42 of them are Toby Keith songs.

Did I mention that I LOVE Toby Keith?

***

Several years ago I didn't know that many Toby Keith songs (it was before IPODS/ITUNES) and so a few years later when I became a fan and started learning all of the said lyrics I realized my co-worker's song for me wasn't very flattering...at all...

How embarrassing!!!!

We talk about your work how your boss is a jerk
We talk about your church and your head when it hurts
We talk about the troubles you've been having with your brother
About your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover
We talk about your friends and the places that you've been
We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose
And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes
You know talking about you makes me smile
But every once in awhile

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you you you you, usually, but occasionally
I wanna talk about meeeeee
I wanna talk about me

How embarrassing!!!!!

***

Yesterday L and I, with some good friends, went to Usana Amphitheater to see Toby Keith in concert--fulfilling one of my lifelong dreams. It was a fantastic show on an incredible summer evening in Utah.

Here are a few of my thoughts and observations from the show:

-There are a lot of rednecks here.

-If I were to grow a mullet, I'd perm it.

-Why are there so many people passing out from alcohol intoxication before Toby even performs?

-I didn't know you could wear leather chaps over underwear like that.

-I lost count of mullets at approximately 629.

-If I was German this crowd would be how I would stereotype Americans.

-I wish I would have known it was trendy to wear see-through lace blouses BEFORE the concert.

-It IS weird that I still have all of my original teeth.

-A cowboy hat, bikini top, daisy dukes, and cowboy boots--I never thought I'd see someone dressed like that in real life. What would her parents think?! Oh, she's here with her parents.

-I should slip bikini girl/bikini girl's parents my business card.

-Where do you even buy a see-through lace blouse?

-I think L and I may be the only ones here (besides Toby) who actually live on a farm...with cows.

-I've got to get me a straw cowboy hat.

-I should pick up our garbage before we leave. But is that really what a redneck would do?

-I should've been a cowgirl.

Facebook

I joined yesterday. Why? I'll quote my client today (who does not know I joined yesterday):

With a snotty junior high girl ring in the voice tone, "Because Myn-di, myspace is soooo last year. Facebook and Twitter are where the cooool people are."

(If you think I'm kidding you should come to work with me sometime)

I said seriously, "Are you serious?"

She said, "Yeah."

I asked, "Seriously? Your serious."

She said, "Yeah."

I began hating myself and I thought about deleting my profile but when I logged on this evening and saw I had 21 friends. I did some quick math and realized that is 7 times the friends I had in high school.

"SCORE!" I yelled loudly.

Until I realized that my brother-in-law has 542 friends and I re-thought deleting my profile. Ore deleting my existence...

Private Practice

I started, officially, today. It's been in the works for months but today was the day.

I met with 1) my first private client 2) my first couple (oh, boy) for couples therapy ever. I was nervous, but that excited sort of nervous.

It went pretty well. As well as couples therapy first session goes, I guess. I was confident, I was experienced (so I hope they thought), I was an expert, and I had authority. I told her if there is any hope in the marriage working out she's gonna have to try and I told him that he has a million dollar debt (of trust) to repay his wife...starting now. He asked for feedback and I told him, "You sure about that because my feedback can be like a backhanded slap." He looked scared. I looked poised.

I told them, and now I tell you, one of the most important things I have ever said in therapy:

Emotionally sound children are raised with parents that have a healthy relationship with each other. Your children deserve your efforts here, don't they?

BTW, marriage does not define the healthy relationship. The healthy relationship can occur with separation and with divorce--it's just harder and requires more work and happens much less often.

My second private practice client is tomorrow 8:00 am. I'm dedicated aren't I? I haven't gotten up for an 8:00 session in I can't remember how long.

This Is Pretty Funny

Hippo began throwing temper tantrums at nine months.  This shows the last part of a pretty nasty one he started in his high chair during dinner.  I came home from work while Hippo was eating and L showed me this helmet he had gotten for Hippo to wear in the bike trailer.  Hippo had a four week period where he was completely obsessed with hats; when he saw the helmet he began demanding to wear it.  It wasn't even out of the package yet and we were eating spaghetti--no one wanted to have to clean up the helmet and so we didn't give it to him to wear until after dinner.

Animal Noises

Summer Fun Photos

Pioneer Day Celebration at L's aunt's house.

We went to the Hogle Zoo in the morning on Pioneer Day.  Hippo got to pet a tortoise!

Unfortunately the Gorilla wasn't on display but I don't think Hippo knew the difference between this one and the real one.

 

We just got a carpet cleaner and Hippo couldn't be more excited.  He has been in love with vacuums since he was old enough to pay attention.

We try and go swimming once a week.  Hippo really loves it.

Positive Attitudes & Good News

My dad called last night.

A major component of our discussion was about my grandparents' ailing health. My Grandma Hazel has dementia and her body and thought functioning has degraded significantly in that she struggles with mobility and communication. My Grandpa Glen recently had a hip replacement procedure which did not take well and consequently has been in agonizing pain; this led the doctors to discover a not-yet-diagnosed heart problem. The related stress is tremendous on their spouses and my parents who do much of their care giving.

Near the end of the conversation my dad asked me if there was any good news, as our conversation had been quite doomy and gloomy. I couldn't think of any. Because a close neighbor and friend (our much respected and valued clergy) has been quite ill, we continue to be involved in a ferocious feud with another neighbor, Henry has been sick, my job (new boss) is not secure, L is working a lot, L is stressed over the GRE, and so on and so forth...

***

Pause for a second for me to philosophize on 'positive attitudes.' I don't believe in them. Optimism is for the delusional and for schmucks trying to sell you something.

Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely not a pessimist (at least anymore) and I find pessimism boorish and, further, depressing.

But, overly enthusiastic people continue promote the myth that positive people are happier. This is only because ignorance is bliss; unfortunately ignorance is also stupidity, by definition. Stupid people, after all is said and done, are not happier and just may be, due to complications related to their ignorance, less happy than average.

In therapy I cannot think of an instance where it would be effective or helpful for me to respond to some one's suffering by saying, "Let's discuss the bright side of your ________ (problem)." Looking at the positive side of things is simply invalidating. Incredibly, after people feel validated in their suffering is when their suffering eases and they naturally become happier. Only then can they experience and understand the good that came from their problem(s).

I received a text from an old client the other day which reads, "I never thought this day would come..Thanks." His life story (just 20 short years) is so riddled with trauma, loss, disappointment, abuse, rejection, criminal behavior, cognitive delays you would be shocked at the lot this child has been handed in life. His biography could fill an A to Z encyclopedia set, seriously. One pivotal day in therapy he looked up at me (he had been hanging his head) through deep soul-sobs and said, "I wouldn't change any of it." Me: "Really? Not anything?" Him: "No." Me, quietly and incredulously: "Why not?" Him: "Because...I wouldn't be me..." And then he smiled, tearfully.

He is not an example of a positive attitude and fortitude. When he came to me he was broken--completely--by life. It is, instead, a display of the wisdom that comes with experiencing life's crap, embracing the reality of the situation, and working through it in an honest and REALISTIC manner. In a later session he said excitedly, "My whole life has changed!" Me: "No it hasn't." (referring to the fact that he continued to have all of his problems) Him: "Yeah it has." Me, very suspiciously: "How?" Him: "I see it all differently now, I see me different. I like myself. I just always feel like I can do this, whatever happens."

Again, his statements are not that of a positive attitude--that nothing bad will ever happen and that all will be okay. It is a reality-based attitude. What he is saying is that he will face adversity when it arrives and that he will cope when all is not well. AND, he will recognize and cherish those beautiful moments when all is well.

***

I couldn't think of any good news...but I was (am) genuinely happy.

Isn't that the best news of all? Despite all being not well, I am happy. And that I experience joy.

Today I joyed in the following ordinary things:

Spending a warm afternoon swimming while gazing at majestic mountains in the short distance and having the sun's rays beat down upon my shoulders while cool water lapped occasionally over them, with eight other girls varying ages from 47 to seven. All while Hippo slept lazily a short distance away.

Eating nachos supreme.

Being kissed by a slobbery 16 month-old beautiful baby boy.

Feeling the wind rush through my slightly sweaty scalp.

Picking a 27 lb child up out of a crib to have him rest his head on my shoulder.

Feeling the "sweet sorrow" of parting from L as he left for work.

Hearing the neighbor kids argue over who was "going to feed the cats."

Howling with a neighborhood dog.

Eating a sun-ripened raspberry, juicy and a bit warm off of the plant.

Touching Damnit's soft fur as she walked quietly past my head.

Feeling the relief of urinating.

Being cooled by ice water.

Laughing.

Looking forward to Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

Reading my brother and sister's blogs.

...and men are that they might have joy. --2 Nephi 2:25

I Can't Believe the Cat Just Threw Up On Me And Other Thoughts of the Day

Spending an entire day with myself was a luxury laid to rest last March. Back then I was so thoughtful.  Thinking over work problems, thinking over world problems, thinking over home problems.  Thinking over triumphs, thinking over books read, thinking over meals eaten, thinking over my outfit choice, thinking over my next shoe purchase...thinking, thinking, thinking.

I definitely still think, just different now.  I think more simply, I think.

Here's a sample from today:

OH MY GOSH!  I can't believe the cat just threw up on me!!!!!  And my new white couch!

Doesn't anyone brush their teeth to go to the gym anymore?

When I nearly lost consciousness each time the lady on the bike next to mine turned in my direction

Apparently people with Swine Flu don't go to Target.

When I discovered Target doesn't provide sanitation wipes for carts.

What should I have for dessert tonight?

At 8:45 am

Really.?.

After reading that Feds have come to believe the Patriot Act just may be illegal.

Nobody will ever know if I de-bug my organic garden...will they?

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Maybe I should implement a swear jar.

After the my RS president neighbor overheard me swearing up a storm over a small catastrophe involving a garden hose, a baby, and a lot of mud.

Who knew a bubble blowing stick could be so entertaining?

After Hippo played with it for nearly one hour.

I feel happy.

After seeing a leashed dog become unleased by its owner and bounded across the park's sunny lawn to spring itself in the air after a frisbee.

I hope my Grandpa will be okay.

Cows say "Mooooo", Cats say "Meow", Snakes say "Ssss", Dogs say "Woof, Woof", Sheep say "Baaa"

Wouldn't You Know

It happened again.

That's right.

I was asked if I am a trainer at the gym today.

My head is swelling so huge I can hardly keep it up.

(or is it my biceps that are swelling?)

I'm Cute and Smart

Just to Prove it To You

I really can walk!

I'm Fifteen Months

Did you miss me?

My mommy said people aren't as interested in toddlers as they are in babies and so she wouldn't let me post an update at 13 or 14 months.  But a lot has happened since my birthday.

I can walk!  I know you saw the video a few weeks ago, but I am pretty good at it now.  My cousin Sambo was visiting me this week and since he is so athletic, headed to the 2012 London Olympics in gymnastics (he is 18 months-old), he taught me how to walk REALLY well.  

I have dropped all but one bottle per day--my mommy keeps the one at bedtime because I refuse to drink milk at all unless it is in a bottle and she says I need the nutrients.  I also eat 100% regular food--no more baby food which is super sad for me since I was one in a million that LOVED baby food.  I also have 12 teeth; my fourth molar came in today! My mommy noticed it when she brushed my teeth tonight. 

I am still big for my age.  My mommy thinks I am nearly 30 lbs and I am wearing 18-24 month-old clothes.  Although, I have thinned out quite a bit in the last several weeks which makes my mommy a little sad because she loved my chunkiness.  

I have a large vocabulary which grows just about everyday.  My vocabulary is so large, in fact, most people don't believe my mommy's bragging until they meet me.  Just today I learned how to say 'please,' which I pronounce "peas", "hat", and "sit."  When my mommy came to get me out of bed this morning I grabbed the hat on her head and exclaimed, "HAT!"  She didn't even realize I knew what a hat is.  Most people find my animal noises delightful.  When my daddy asks, "What does a mom say?"  I answer by exclaiming, "No. No! NO!" When my mommy asks, "What does a dad say?" I answer saying, "Der!" I really like to say "hi" to people in the store, even when I don't know them.  My mommy isn't sure if my friendliness makes people feel tickled or feel uncomfortable; she says it makes her feel really uncomfortable.   

I still throw temper tantrums A L-O-T.  It's just that when my mommy doesn't do what I want her to do I get SOOOO ANGRY.  When I throw temper tantrums or when I hit/scratch/scream I go to time out for one minute and even though I cry the whole time I always change my attitude and forgive my mommy. Sometimes my temper tantrums make my mommy laugh but she stops when I look at her so she won't encourage my naughty behavior.  Sometimes they just make her mad.  Like when I head-butted her jugular at the Tracy Aviary last week--it knocked the wind out of her and she almost dropped me on cement.  That's not how I got this shiner, however.  I fell against a train table at the Children's Treehouse Museum in Ogden, Utah.  My mommy wishes it would hurry up and heal so she can stop looking like a child abuser.  I wouldn't stop moving for the camera so sorry about the unclear picture.  

People say I am a ham for attention.  I am not shy at all, which is exactly opposite to my mommy's personality (one more way I am like my daddy).  My mommy hopes my attention seeking is more to do with personality quirkiness than due to emotional instability.

My mommy is most happy that I've started to play with my toys by myself for extended amounts of time (20 or so minutes nearly everyday).  My mommy says she is happy she can check her email or fix dinner in a bit of peace now.  Hmm, we'll see.

I still like to be outside.  My mommy can't figure out why I am willing to eat leaves, sticks, stones, and dirt but not the vegetable she offers.  I even wear the sun hat and sunglasses she puts on me, pretty well.  I love to go for runs/walks in my jogging stroller.  Except to the library, I hate the library.  I love to torture my mommy at the library, however--yelling, screaming, throwing temper tantrums, pulling books off shelves, crawling as fast as I can away from her, crawling out the front door, laughing hysterically loudly, and anything else I can do to make her stress and rush out before she finds something good to read.  

Here is a list of my favorites at this time of life:

Food:   Strawberries and raspberries (from my very own garden), oranges, goldfish crackers,     pretzels, string cheese, peanut butter, graham crackers, chips, cookies, and ice cream*

*You may be wondering why my mommy has given me junk food.  She hasn't.  Other people     have and now she has caved to my pressure (yelling and screaming).  She now gives me               one cookie for eating my dinner well and she will teach me words with ice cream.  Hence,           how I learned "peas" today.

Parent:  Daddy

Toy:  Little People Farm and Little People Tractor

Thing to do:  Feed the cows and drive the tractor with my daddy or go to the gym

Book:  New Hat, Old Hat--Berenstains

Drink:  Water

Time of Day:  Nighttime, I am a night owl like my daddy

Way to Act in Church:  Obnoxious

Household Chore:  Vacuuming

Animal:  Cows and cats

Clothing Item:  Shoes (a word I can say)

Word:  "Moo" and "Baby"

Friend:  Every kid I meet

Songs:  "Boom, Boom, Pow"--Black Eyed Peas; "Poker Face"--Lady GaGa; "Sexes on Fire"--       Kings of Leon; "Your Call"--Secondhand Serenade; "Halo"--Beyonce; The entire Taylor               Swift Fearless album; "Then"--Brad Paisley; "Kiss Through the Phone"--Soulja Boy Tell             'Em Featuring Sammie; "Her Diamonds"--Rob Thomas

Person to Kiss: MOMMY!

Therapeutic Thursday--Parenting 101

Parenting is not easy (I am finding out first hand).  There are some things, however, that are easy enough to avoid and to do in order to give your children a head start on success:

Don't:

-Use drugs

-Abuse your children physically 

-Abuse your children emotionally

-Abuse your children sexually

-Neglect your children

-Criticize your children (that's different from giving constructive feedback)

-Allow anyone else to use drugs around your children

-Allow anyone else to abuse your children physically

-Allow anyone else to abuse your children emotionally

-Allow anyone else to abuse your children sexually

-Allow anyone else to neglect your children

-Stereoptype and label your children

-Give your children everything they want, or everything you want for them

Do:

-Admit to your children when you have made a mistake in parenting them

-Forgive your children quickly and freely

-Teach your children

  Accountability

  Charity

  Mercy

  Forgiveness

  To work hard

  To stand up for others

  Humility

  To work well with others

  Assertiveness--healthy conflict resolution

  Honesty and Integrity

  Manage money

  About healthy lifestyles

-Have patience

-Spend time with them in many different contexts and activities

-Provide for their needs as well as a few wants from time to time

-Read with your children, or to them

-Listen to their thoughts and feelings

-Be democratic when it becomes developmentally appropriate

-Model being a good person

-Know your children's friends, well

Anything to add?

Feeding Cows

Remember When

I  must be in a mushy mood lately because even though I know you've heard this song I just can't get enough of it lately:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Y4NTXT96EM&NR=1

And yes, I remember when 30 seemed old.

Therapeutic Thursday--A Follow Up

We do a lot of following up in therapy… 

Last week I posted about being treated well and as I wrote the post I knew there was something missing. 

Here it is:

I’ve caused hurt.  I’ve caused many people to hurt.  I’ve hurt people. 

This isn’t an apology, by the way, because I HATE those. 

Apologies do little to acknowledge the actual damage that’s been done.  The damage that is left long after…

 

And public statements do little to mend a broken heart.

 

This post isn’t meant to blanket over, by a few flowery statements, the individual harm I’ve caused.  I am not attempting to ease my conscience. Know, my conscience will NEVER be eased. 

 

I have spent many nights thinking of the individuals (specific people) I’ve tossed aside, I’ve condescended, I’ve patronized, I’ve gossiped, I’ve dismissed, I’ve cut off, I’ve ignored, I’ve criticized, I’ve acted better than and self righteous. 

 

One sleepless night I thought of the girl named Rose.  How could I have been so hurtful?

 

Then I thought of others.  Individuals, people, my friends, my family.  With feelings.  With hopes.  With dreams. With potential.  With people who love them and hope that no one will ever trample on them…like I have.

 

If only their mother’s knew where I lived…

 

***

 

The question I get most often in therapy:

                        How could they have done such an awful thing?

                        How could have I done such an awful thing?

 

The answer is so extraordinarily complicated and difficult to understand (and for some it takes years and years of therapy), but here it is:

 

When people have been hurt they often (but not always—those that do not are considered resilient) shut off a portion of their emotions which allow them to accept the harm that has been done to them.  So they can cope.  The unfortunate consequence is they are unable to have empathy (remember, they shut it off)—an appropriate emotional response—for others (at least thoroughly and adequately) and thus, end up hurting.

 

And so the cycle goes.

***

 

I wrote last week about my healing.  My emotional responses—the appropriate and effective ones—have been turned back on. 

 

And to remind myself always to

 

Treat people as if they were what they should be, and you help them become what they are capable of becoming.

--Johann von Goethe

 

of which I am now capable.

A Love Letter

Dear Sun,

I know it's only been nine months since I've seen your morning glow but it feels like the eternities the Bible speaks of.  Each day, instead of concentrating on those things which should occupy my mind, my thoughts are on your warm embrace...which I have missed each second of each minute of each hour of each day of each week of each of nine months.

When are you coming to me?  How many more days will I lie anxiously in wait of your 100+ degree weather?  

I miss you.  I love you. 

Passionately,

Your Not-So-Secret Admirer

***

It has been the wettest June in the nine summers I have lived in Utah.  And my third most favorite day of the year is approaching, the summer solstice (the third only to #1 the first day of Spring and #2 the 4th of July.

RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY!

AND DON'T COME AGAIN SOME OTHER DAY!

Feeding Ducks Thirty Words Later

We especially loved this beautiful black swan.

Hippo doesn't have a great throwing arm quite yet.

This duck mother had ten ducklings in her litter!  She was quite protective nipping at Seagulls when they got near.

Hippo learned how a duck says, "Quack," on this outing.

I've been bragging that Hippo knows more than thirty words.  People do not believe me and I think they are annoyed over the bragging.  Hippo is nearly 15 months-old and not walking very well, took his first steps around 13 months.  He finally crawled around eleven months and has never really mastered the art. Moreover, since he has been s...l...o...w to develop gross motor skills whereas most children master them first in a long list of developmental milestones, I feel I'm entitled to a little bragging.  

Geez.

It's true.  His word count is approximately 35 now that he has learned, "quack". He also learned water, flower, and rag this week.  Sure, they are pronounced, "wah-wah" and "fowah" and "rahg" but what do you expect from a 15 month-old genius?

Therapeutic Thursday

This hangs on the outside of my office door: 

Treat people as if they were what they should be, and you help them become what they are capable of becoming.

--Johann von Goethe

When I hung it up more than three years ago I hoped it would not be something I became so used to I would forget the meaning and so I reflect on Johann von Goethe's statement often.  

This week several of my long term clients are graduating high school.  All going in various directions.  One will join the military, one will enter the workforce, one will go to college, one will go to trade school, one will get married, one will move to an adult group home, and one will serve a religious mission.  Others will follow family patterns of low productivity, crime, and drug abuse.

This week I am asking myself if I did them justice.  Did I adequately look past their presentation to their potential? Did I see a light at the end of their tunnels which, upon arrival, is full of possibility?   I hope so.

Was I distracted from their capabilities?  Was I captured by their problems?  Did I buy in to their belief that they will be nothing important?  I hope not.  

But I can't shake the feeling that I can do better.

A special supervisor (and friend) taught me what it felt like to be treated as if I was what I ought to be.  

It was uncomfortable at times.

I didn't always believe her.  Sometimes I was compelled to prove her wrong, to let her know I wasn't nearly as great as she thought I was.

It never worked, she always saw me as if I was already the best version of myself...

                     EVEN WHEN I WAS BAD

In fact, she was HONORED to know me.

     

                 She told me once 

       (acted like it millions of times).

She also asked me one day this, incredulously:

How is it possible you don't know how perfect you are?

And I cried

                     for past hurts.  

And she cried with me.

And then I began becoming what I was capable of becoming.

I am still on the journey.

My life purpose as a wife, as a mother, as a friend, as a sister, as a daughter, and as a therapist: to give the gift she has given me; the one Johann von Goethe is speaking about.

We LOVE Rodizio Grill

We ate and ate and ate and ate.  Then we ate some more.  

Hippo ate and ate and ate and ate.  Then he ate some more.  

I've Decided To Go Clinical

8

was the number worn by baseball greats Yogi Berra and Cal Ripken Jr.

percent of US children qualify for an ADHD diagnosis

was my first softball number

is the age of accountability

is the atomic number for O (Oxygen)

sides makes an Octagon

legs (tentacles) make an Octopus...or a spider

vegetables make V8 juice

is how old Damn is

maids-a-milking

ball will either win you a game of pool, or will result in your loss

fluid ounces make a cup

years ago L and I met

often means "eternity" with no start or end

is a lucky number in China

years ago I graduated with a BS from Brigham Young University

percent of drivers are on their cell phone while driving

keys make an octave

days a week is a Beetles song

is the center field position, in baseball

th astrological sign is scorpio, my astrological sign

miles is how much I ran the other day

furlongs make a mile

X 8 = 64 furlongs is how much I ran the other day

                                                      And I could have run more...