Monday, February 28, 2011


This morning at breakfast Lauren was ratted out by her brother. I'd just given the kids their vitamins when I overheard Joseph telling his brothers some very interesting information:

"Hey guys,.... Lauren has a collection of these up in her room." he said.

"What?" Jacob replied.

"Yeah, I was up in her room yesterday and she has a whole pile of vitamins in a basket under her vanity!"

I looked at Lauren for her response to this accusation but she'd cleverly stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth. Perfect timing. She chewed and chewed as I patiently waited for her response. Her big eyes looked straight ahead, a guilty smile spread over her face.

Her brothers busted up with laughter.

I was trying not to laugh too.

I went up to her room to confirm the story and sure enough on the corner of her pink little vanity sat 6 partially sucked on multi-vitamins.


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

So Frustrated

Imagine a certain 7 year old boy (almost 8) yelling these phrases at you as he storms upstairs to his room after being asked to get his pajamas on 5 times (within a 5 minute time frame). Let the record show that the first 2 times were asked nicely, the third with frustration, the 4th or 5th time I totally lost it yelling at him like some crazy lady. Now, be sure to picture him saying these things with a great deal of emotion in his voice and tears streaming down his face.

"You hate me!"

"I feel like I want to run away!"

"Just kill me, kill me please!"

"I want a different family!"

"Just sell me, put a 'For Sale' sign on me!"

Okay, so tonight he didn't use all of these phrases. He actually used the 3rd, but I guarantee if I'd been recording him today you'd have heard at least 2 of the other ones too.

The above phrases have become Josephs fallback lines anytime he is scolded, corrected, reprimanded or "unfairly punished."

Tonight when I tucked him in bed he rolled away from me as I leaned in to kiss him goodnight.

Inside I silently groaned, frustrated that suddenly I'm the bad guy because I yelled at him instead of him having a single rational thought like, "Maybe if I had gotten my pajamas on the first or even second or third time she asked I wouldn't have been yelled at."

I'm not justifying my behavior, I know I shouldn't have yelled. Maybe if I was a better person I could handle the amount of annoying things he does in a 24 hour span and always keep my cool, always be patient, and never be irritated. But I'm not and I can't.

Aaron's at basketball right now so unfortunately I have no one to vent to. I'll probably end up deleting this post anyway so what the heck, I'm going to say it like it is....

He is the center of almost all fights/contention in our home. He has to be asked multiple times to do things, all the time. He is annoying like you would not believe. He cuts his siblings off verbally with comments that he knows will irritate them or make them mad. He intentionally torments and teases his younger siblings almost as if he takes pleasure in it. He takes FOREVER to do things......I could add more to this list but that's the gist of it.

Right now I'm feeling two things. Anger and sadness.

I'm sad because when he uses his "fallback phrases" it reminds me of my own childhood and how I similarly felt like no one loved me and I wanted to run away. I seriously thought about it a few times. When I think about him feeling this way too (which he genuinely does- he is not manipulating me) it makes me so sad.

I feel angry because he's so irrational in his thinking that he fails to make the connection that his choices and his behavior are what's leading him to being scolded, reprimanded, corrected or punished. I am not picking on him, I am not a mean Mom, and I do not love his brothers more than him. Yes, sometimes I yell at him, sometimes I lose my temper with him. I'm not proud of that. It makes me angry that I can't keep it together all the time. But seriously for him to use his fallback phrases and say those things when I do slip up? It's just not fair.

He has no idea how annoying he is and how hard I try. How much I've improved with biting my tongue and letting things go...
But it doesn't matter. None of it matters because he's genuinely hurt and in his little boy head I am picking on him, I am a mean Mom and I don't love him.

That is the worst part about all of this: He doesn't feel like I love him. It doesn't matter that I do love him or how many tender moments we can share or all the nice, sweet things I say and do for him. In his mind, I don't love him.

I'm reading a book right now because of him, it's entitled: How to really love your Child. It talks about kids who are loved not feeling that they are loved and how parents can better show their children their love.

I'm hoping it will help.

I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

Friday, February 11, 2011

A Lovers Poem

I have a wonderful friend that planned a special Valentines day gathering for all of us friends with our significant others. "A sophisticated night of Fondue and Poetry" she promised.

Everyone was asked to bring a love poem to share. One you'd written or one of your favorites. Aaron wrote me a poem that afternoon, he was was working from home. (He's not typically a poet). In fact it was his first poem ever and it was very cute.

And so, I figured I'd better write one too.

I'll share his later when I have more time to explain his innuendos. (: There were a lot of things that only I understood. I'd like to blog some of those stories at another time so we'll always remember what inspired his rhymes.

But here is the poem that I wrote for him. The picture is from one of our favorite beaches on Oahu. Makapu'u. Once Aaron wanted to go there late one night on a full moon to swim. It was this scene in my minds eye that I thought of when writing these words. Well,.... that and my husbands love....

Thanks Mary for giving me a reason to pen my feelings for him.

Your Love

Your love, like an ocean, pulled at my heart
as the tide pulls upon the shore.
Constant and steady, persistent melody,
Your love waited at my door.

A full moon, a quiet lagoon,
your waters drew me in.
I approached your shore; wanting but unsure.
I couldn’t resist diving in.

Immersed in your warmth
I swam in your waters looking up at the starry night.
You pulled me under beneath your waves,
Fear seized my unknowing heart.

I held my breath enjoying the stillness
of your underwater realm.
Swimming deeply, so peacefully,
I felt that I’d come home.

I came up for breath and gazed at the shore,
where a moment ago I’d been.
Then swam out deeper, and dove back under
holding my breath for him.

Returning to your waters, you pulled me under
and I swam in your depths again.
Only this time I chose to stay down under,
I chose to breath you in.

You filled me inside with a new kind of life,
breathing your love into me.
Drowned in the depths of your unyielding devotion
I finally began to see.

The beauty of, your tender love
within your warmest deep.
You flowed into the heart of me
and I never wanted to leave.

Your love like an ocean still pulls at my heart
as the tide pulls upon the shore.
Constant and steady a persistent melody.
I’ll be yours forever more.

-Andria Laws

Sunday, February 6, 2011

"I Couldn't Resist my Mothers Love."

These words have been haunting me since I read them from an Ensign article last month. It was written by a man recalling his youth and the difficult struggle he had one year as he faced the decision of whether or not he would serve a mission. He didn't want to.

During the summer he'd taken a job in which he had to wake up very early. His mother, he remembered, would get up with him while the rest of his family slept. She'd cook him breakfast and sit with him at the table before he left. She would talk to him about his day, what he thought and felt about anything and everything. Through her words she'd share her testimony, nourishing him daily with her faith. She was ever loving, never judging. He felt of her love, assured that she'd love him no matter what decision he made.

By the end of the summer he had changed his mind. He wanted to serve a mission. "I couldn't resist my mothers love," he said.

I've thought about this the past few weeks, again and again.

Because I have a son that even in his tender age I worry about. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I worry over his rebellious nature and how it may manifest itself during his formative years. This story and quote has brought me great comfort through these concerns. I have since felt a greater desire to show him sweeter, more tender love.

There is nothing more powerful in this world than true, unconditional love. It's the kind of love that this mother had for her son and the kind of love that our dear Savior has for each of us. He loves us no matter what and believes in us even when we've lost hope in ourselves.

This kind of love is what I strive to give my children. I am sooooo NOT there yet. But I know that if I work toward this goal, great good will come.

And if my worst fears are realized and I have a child that loses his way. I hope that my love for him will be great enough, tender enough that he too won't be able to resist it. And with this love I will do my best to bring him back to the arms of our Saviors love where true peace and healing come.