Imaginary Friends: Harvey, Bubble Buddy, and Squella

Have you ever seen the movie, "Harvey"? If not, it's time. I don't use the word "charming" often, but it's the only word I can think of to describe this film. At the heart of the story is Elwood P. Dowd and his unflinching devotion to his "imaginary friend," a 6 foot, 3 and 1/2 inch tall rabbit named Harvey. In the film you really come to wonder if Harvey is real.

 

A Movie Poster for "Harvey."

Elwood commissions a painting of himself and his "friend."

The reason I bring this up is because little 3-year-old Mia (as you may know from my "kids say the darndest things" column) is starting to have a few imaginary friends with hilarious names. So far, it's not a problem. She talks to them and plays with them. Today she asked for some cheese for her friend Squella. After I served enough cheese for Squella AND Mia, Mia announced that Squella doesn't like cheese and graciously offered to eat the cheese for her. It reminds me of the SpongeBob Squarepants episode, "Bubble Buddy." Where SpongeBob creates a friend out of boredom and bugs the heck out of everyone in Bikini Bottom.

 

SpongeBob and Bubble Buddy on the See-Saw.

I figure there's no harm in Mia's little "friend(s)" as long as it's just for fun and it doesn't get too weird if you know what I mean? I guess my question is, did you ever have an imaginary friend? If you did, tell me more.

I'd love some feedback on this.

Hands Free?

If you use your cell phone a lot, (whether or not you have children) you really should visit this site. My favorite post is "How To Miss A Childhood." Totally inspired me.
Check it out. . .
http://www.handsfreemama.com/

Mom's Day

I spent the day before Mother's Day with a few of my favorite moms. One mom is especially special to me. . . MINE! We did exactly what we wanted to. Pedicures, Sushi @ Mikado, and a flick with the chicks, "The Lucky One." The movie was better than I thought it would be. I wrapped up the day at The Dancing Bear Cafe with my family (minus Ben). Mmmm, the food was delicious. It was a great day. Sunday was equally great with some time at church and dinner with Alfa, the mother of my main squeeze and my awesome sister-in-law, Walkyria. Happy Mom's Day, moms!!!

A practically perfect day.

A Guardian of the Hearth - My Thoughts at 2:26 a.m.

I was asked to share some thoughts about being a guardian of the hearth at a meeting last month. For days I researched and stewed over what to say. What could I possibly share that someone might need to hear? Then one early a.m. I woke up, picked up my pen and started to write.
Take it or leave it, this, plus a few revisions, is what I came up with.

What is a guardian of the hearth? First, what is a hearth?
It is the floor of a fireplace.
It is a vital center of the home.
It is synonymous with the word “home” itself.
The hearth was a place where all in the house would gather for warmth, light, company, and nourishment. It was quite literally the heart of the home. Therefore, a guardian of the hearth is one who watches over and protects home and family.

 A guardian of the hearth can be anyone. But is most likely, you. A guardian of the hearth may have been trained to be such from childhood. A pillar, generations in the making. Or she may be a pioneer in her field. She may have a quiver full of children, a bustling household, a single companion at her side or perhaps she is a family of one. No matter, her well-being and her refuge is of sacred importance. And through the years, her residence may change, it's residents coming and going through various ages, stages, and phases, but the hearth stays the same.

She should know that the foundation under her feet, supporting her world, is God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. She is defending the key components of an eternal family; prayer, scripture study, sabbath day observance, family home evening, and spiritual growth in general. She is watchful of the nurturing and overall well-being of each spirit in her charge. Including her own. If there is anything virtuous lovely, of good report or praiseworthy, she not only seeks for it but makes it readily available in abundance for all who pass by.

Her motto is, “Charity Never Faileth” Her direction is heaven. Her refuge, on her knees.

 

A guardian of the hearth should be ready for battle. Daily battle. Dressed always in the armor of God. She is not afraid to recognize the enemy, identify his hiding places, his strongholds, nor his attempts to infiltrate and destroy all that she holds dear. She is not afraid of the enemy at all but holds her head high with confidence in the strength of God. 

A guardian of the hearth is not afraid to be recognized as such. She disregards the opinion of the world and rather, focuses on upholding righteous traditions and cherishing sacred moments. She is in the business of memory-making and is always in search of that positive teaching moment. She is always ready to learn.

A guardian of the hearth should never underestimate her calling, her God-given power, nor her un-acclaimed influence for good.

A guardian of the hearth is BEAUTIFUL. She is a daughter of God and a child of light. Her countenance is HIS. When she gives of her time, she gives of her love and HIS. Her hands are HIS hands. Her purpose, HIS.

She should know that while in the service of God, she will NEVER miss out on ANYTHING that is truly worthwhile. And IF she is ever weary. If she feels run down. If she begins to question her validity in this world, she should remember that her work MATTERS, that she is NEVER alone. Angels WILL buoy her up. The Holy Spirit WILL guide and The Son of God WILL carry her.

 Peter, a guardian of the hearth, said to Tabitha, “Daughter, arise.” Christ says it to you; “Daughter, arise!” Don't be ashamed to stand in this holy place he has prepared and reserved for YOU. YOU are the guardian of this holy place. . . called home.

Take your place and guard it well.

 

By Rochelle Flores

Debbie Downer - 4 complaints I just need to get out there

SNL used to do a skit featuring Rachel Dratch called Debbie Downer. She'd endlessly bring up something depressing about her life regardless of how happy the situation and a "WHaaa WHaaaa" would follow on a trumpet. It's hilarious. Not so hilariously though, I feel like her today. I really don't want to complain because I truly love my life, but today. . . eh. . . notsomuch.

• Theres a bedwetter here. I have several nights worth of sheets, blankets, pillowcases, and pajamas to prove it. Not to mention at least 5 more loads of other laundry. Laundry, what a dirty word. The bane of my existance. The second you finish, theres a whole new load waiting for you. Lurking. Multiplying like little bunnies. I sure love it.
• Three of our kids got through strep and colds last week and are now feeling great. YAY! I'm coming down with something. Don't feel great. BOO!
• Every night I have extremely vivid, usually disturbing dreams. EVERY NIGHT. Last night is not the first time this week that I've woken up crying. What do you do for that? How can I possibly feel rested and happy when I've been going through hell all night?
• I love living with boys but don't love asking the question of the day, "Okay, who farted?" I can't help it if I want to keep the air quality of the house breathable and want to teach my kids social responsibility. Blech. Sometimes I just feel surrounded by "grossness."

These are the things on my mind today. Call me Debbie Downer.

Beating a Dead Horse

Someone I know, who is 10, is one of the most laugh-inducing comedians I've ever encountered. This nameless 10-year-old has a natural sense of humor that has many times, induced me to tears. Not an easy feat.

That being said, I have discovered, painfully, that humor has it's limits. The afore mentioned 10-year-old loves to make people laugh and has discovered that randomness often tickles the funnybone. Initially, he would randomly interject, "I like pie." into everyday conversation. When we stopped laughing, he decided to increase the volume level 20 decibles, til at one point, he was scolded and told to "STOP saying 'I LIKE PIE' at all.!!!" Zip. Zilch. Nada. He now says (often. . . too often) "I like fried chicken." The only response I can think of, after the budding comedian has exclaimed, "I LIKE FRIED CHICKEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHN!!!" for the hundredth time is, "Oh yeah? Spongebob ripped his pants."

If you don't know what I'm talking about, watch the episode, "Ripped Pants." It will explain so much.

How do I explain the difference between randomness and "old"ness. Just ignore it? Tried that. Tell him kindly that I don't like it? Done. How can I get the point across without crushing this kid's fragile developing sense of humerous self?

The First Lesson in Tying Ties

As the Credits Roll . . .

Firtht Looth Toof!

Already???

Will turned 5 on Monday. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILL!!!) On Monday night, I noticed his bottom tooth was leaning forward quite a bit. After a wiggle and a gasp I realized, "It's loose!" He's 5 people! A little early isn't it?

Today, out of curiosity, I tried wiggling some of his other teeth. Total number of teeth loose. . . 3!!! What's up with that? He hasn't even started Kindergarten yet! Sheesh. Kid's these days. . . growing up too fast and . . . losing teeth.

What Makes A Father Good?

What makes a father good? Is it the car he drives or the size of his bank account? Or is it simply in the daily choices he makes?
Does he put on a brave face when he, himself is uncertain of the future?
Does he take every opportunity possible to teach his children, of respect, of work, of the gospel, and of kindness?
Does he live by his word?
Does he walk by example?
Does he spend the last moments of a tired day frolicking on the floor with three wired boys?
Does he put everyone's happiness above his own?
Does he honor his priesthood?
Does he teach his boys how to be men?
Does he live the way he should?
Does he carry a sleeping 4 year old from car booster seat to bed?
Does he love, provide for, and care for his two step children as if they were his own?
Does he take a family of two, accept a family of three, and MAKE a family of five?
Does he love his wife with all his heart?
Does he look out for her best interest above his own?
Does he know exactly what to say to make her laugh til she cries?
Does he always offer a shoulder to cry on and (Although she'd never take him up on it) offer his shirtsleeve as a Kleenex substitute?
Does he put a glass of icewater beside her bed each and every night?

If his name is Alfonso, then the answer is a resounding, "Yes!" And not only are we speaking of a Father who is exquisitely good, but a Husband who is true, and a Friend who is THERE. Happy Father's Day, Alfonso. We love you!

Summer Resolution

I'm scared. I just have this anxiety over what I'm going to do with the kids for the next two or three months. Summer has officially started, they're home full-time for the first time in long time. The best thing I can come up with so far is, "Let them play." We've set a goal to read each day, we'll keep it. We have a list of things we want to do (eg. the park, picnics, swimming, library, etc.) But how far will that get us? How long until they strangle each other, or me? Will sanity perservere? Will we all survive?

Sensational Summer Quotes:
Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it. ~Russel Baker

Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ~Henry James

Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world. ~Ada Louise Huxtable

Will's First Black Eye

Yesterday, Will came home with his first shiner. We're not sure how it happened, but here it is, almost visible. He's becoming quite the tough kid. I included some pictures with his sock monkey, "Socks." Ever since he saw Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, they've been good buddies.

The Double-Edged Sword

One of the worst things about divorce is how it affects your kids. For the rest of their lives, they will have to deal with the mess you've made. On the bright side of it all, I'm so thankful to have all three of our boys at home the majority of the time. Then the "Every other weekend" comes. It is a thing I both look forward to, and dread.

Every other weekend, the kids go stay with their "other" parents. Ben with his "mom," and Spence and Will with their "dad." This is both an obvious blessing and an undeniable curse.
Blessing: A weekend free, a night free, or even just an hour free from the usual requests, squabbles, defiances, and demands of parenthood. And while you miss your children a lot, you get some time to recharge those battered batteries.
Curse: It's like every other weekend, letting go of your most precious possessions, your life's purpose. And with a big hug, and a kiss on the forehead, you buckle them in the car and force a smile, wave goodbye and watch as they are escorted away by Lex Luthor. Suddenly the little things that were driving you crazy all week, seem unimportant, and you just wish they could stay. It takes a lot of faith to trust the untrustworthy.

The real thing that is difficult here is not being the parent saying goodbye, it is being the child who must go between households whether or not they like it. I can't even imagine what it would be like to be in their shoes. Their relationship with mom and dad must also be a double-edged sword. That being said, I am proud of them for doing what they do and still smiling so brightly.

I just can't wait til they come home tomorrow.

Will's New Glasses

A routine eye exam at the school revealed that Master Will was having vision trouble. After seeing our good friend and Optometrist, Dr. Briggs, it was determined that our little man needs to wear glasses. Here they are.



Isn't he cute?

Minus 8 Inches, Plus 5 Sickies

- 8 Inches. So on Friday, I went to my favorite short hair stylist and said, "chop it off." So she cut of 8 inches!!!! It's like an a-line bobbish do. LOVE IT!

+ 5 Sickies. Alfonso and Spence had it late last week,and then wham, Will, Ben and I got hit with it. It was like a tidal wave of dehabilitating aches, fevers, and back wrenching coughs. On Saturday, while so many fortunate people were out enjoying the warmish weather we were doing this. . . all day.

Looney Tunes and Chuzzle provided a great deal of comfort. My boys were good sports during the weekend of strict quarantining.

Good news, today (Monday morning at 2 a.m., why I'm awake I don't know) I'm feeling better. I'm hoping the boys do too. . . you know, when they wake up.

I Love Him!

We are so grateful to the doctors and staff at the University Neuropsychiatric Institute and the Kidstar program. It has now been a few weeks of testing, uncertainty, worst case scenarios, divorced parent disputes, blessings, and prayers. Yesterday Spencer was diagnosed with high functioning autism. Everyone had worked so hard to help Spencer learn and progress while at the same time, trying to pinpoint a diagnosis. I am so relieved because with all the troubling events that led up to our getting help, even contemplating the worst case scenarios terrified me. I was extremely worried about him, and I still am, but at least now I know what I can do to help him. They say Spence is "on the spectrum" of Autism. When they say he has "high funcitoning" Autism (from what I understood yesterday), it means he is able to perform day to day activities very well, some extremely well, with a few exceptions. It is essentially affecting him, or hurting him, socially. To those of you who know him, you'll agree that Spencer is a delightful and extremely bright and kid, but he oftentimes has difficulty making friends or knowing how to interact with them unless they are playing Starwars. He quickly withdraws in many social settings and feels lonely a great deal of the time. Especially in school and at church. What we are trying to do right now is teach him those crucial social skills that usually come naturally to people. That is the area that we need help. When you see him, put your arm around him and help him know you are his friend. If possible, go out of your way to include him in what you are doing. He may give you the cold shoulder. But don't take it personally, he certainly doesn't mean to offend or hurt anyone's feelings. . . he's just an extraordinary little boy who's going to need an extra hand from time to time. I love him!

The Night They Found My Toe Socks. . .

Legend tells of a legendary pile of laundry that was the stuff of legend. . . er, about a week ago I was almost finished with a ginormous stash of laundry. Stacks of folded clothes looked like skyscrapers and our piles of socks, mountains. I left the room for just a moment and the next thing I knew, I was running for the camera. I guess I'm not the only one in the house that likes toe socks.

NO Wii?!!!

It's official, I'm a mean mom. Recently, the boys' FAVORITE thing to do is play Lego Star Wars on our Wii. Last night each one of the kids did something wreckless that merited disciplinary action. After talking it over, Alfonso and I decided to pull the plug, on the Wii that is, for a WHOLE WEEK!!! To be honest, it's nice to have a bargaining tool, but it's a good thing that I'm not running for the office of "Mom" because my numbers would have significantly dropped last night. Fortunately this isn't a popularity contest, it's real life. Today as the reality of this punishment set in, Will looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, "You're the most rudest mom I ever had!" Ten minutes and a swig of A&W later, he said, "I love you, mom." I really like the length of his attention span.

Impression and Influence

When we moved into the house I bought some lovely bath rugs for the "master bathroom." They were white and extremely soft. Needless to say, I loved them. Which makes the next turn of events so difficult to relate. It all happened so fast.

Well, they needed to be washed. I put them in the washing machine. And stupidly, for reasons beyond my comprehension, I put in our RED kitchen rug in the washing machine as well. I put in the soap, I turned on the washer and daftly walked away. I was grief stricken later when I checked on the status of the washing rugs and saw some neon pink rugs swishing around inside. The kitchen rug wasn't even that red! I used cold water?!! They didn't set for long?! Three washes and several tons of bleach later, I realized that my once lovely white rugs were forever doomed to be bright Pepto Bismol pink. Come on people, there's no pink in my house!??! Determined to learn something from my mistake I walked away with a laundry lesson and a life lesson;

LESSON #1 When doing laundry, don't mix colors.

LESSON #2 Stay true to your colors, and be aware of your influence/influences (whether bad or good).

Seriously, how impressionable are we? How careful are we regarding the company we keep or the entertainment we embrace? Am I a red rug or a white rug? The RED rug didn't change at all, but it sure left a lasting impression on the white rugs. I'm not saying that mixing and mingling is bad. I AM saying that we need to be aware of how others influence us, and how we influence others. Now, if only I'd told that to the rugs sooner. . .

Will surveys the damage.