The Third Weekend in May

The third weekend in May is my favorite weekend of the whole year. And it's only because of one event on Saturday night--the Lilac Festival Parade.

I'm not sure how Rhett and I first discovered the Lilac Festival Parade, but the first year we went to it, we got a babysitter for the two girls and enjoyed it ourselves. Last year, we took both girls with us--which was their real first experience with parades. This year, we took all three kiddos. (Ever since the last Lilac Festival Parade, Summer has been obsessed with parades--the 4th of July Parade, Pioneer Day Parade, St. Patrick's Day Parade. She often asks when the next parade is that we get to go to. She loves them all.)

But the Lilac Festival Parade is different than all the others. It runs through downtown Spokane and begins just as the sun is setting. The parade lasts more than two hours, and it's full of marching bands, floats (and even horses) covered in Christmas lights, "Princesses" (prom queens and pageant queens), and transports for veterans of every war in the past. It also has members of the current army, navy, airforce, and marines as well as a group of family members who carry large posters of pictures, names, and dates of the family member who served and passed away. It is so neat to see as these service members walk by and how the crowds of people along the sides stand, applaud, and cheer for them in gratitude of the sacrifices they've made for us. I get emotional every time--and even when I watch the clips!

I love the lights. I love the patriotism. And I absolutely love the bands. One of the highlights was when one of the bands stopped in the middle of the road and kept playing while the back half of the band threw a pose and the front half of the band busted some killer dance moves. I'm talking "Dead Man Walking" killer dance moves, with instruments in hand! It was sooooo awesome!

I can't figure out how to post more than one video on a post at a time, so I put all our clips together. If my battery hadn't kept dying, I would have probably stood there the whole time taping it all! The clips are dark (you can tell which ones were taken before the sun actually went down). The first part of the clip is the navy (notice how the crowds are going wild!), then another group of service members, then a group of family members, then a clip of Claire bopping to the beat of the drums, and finally, the last one is for you dad. :)  Recognize the song???

"It ended like it began . . .

Just you and me. And one little baby."

That's what Rhett said to me this past Thursday night as we crawled into bed.

And just how did it begin? With Rhett, me, and little Summer Dawn packing up all our things, saying our goodbyes to Shelley, Idaho, and trekking all the way to Spokane to our apartment on North Nevada.

It began on a Sunday when we looked over at a young couple with a little baby too and asked where RS and Priesthood met.

It began at Pig Out at the Park, where we first "officially" hung out as a bunch of green law school students and wives.

It began in the fall, September, when the trees started changing, but the sun was shining, and there was little wind.

And it all ended last Thursday, May 10.

Just me, Rhett, and little Pippy in tow.

We waited outside Judge Clark's courtroom a little before 3:30. Rhett had his paperwork filled out, a little nervous at the unexpected. I had the diaper bag, ready for anything Pyper would need to keep her quiet. And Pippy had her binky and a smile, charming everyone who saw her.

Well, 3:30 came, and passed. And as we waited and watched through the empty courtroom window, Rhett noticed someone go into the room and turn all the lights off. We both panicked. This was a pretty big deal.

So Rhett chased her down and said he was supposed to be getting sworn in by Judge Clark in the room where the lady had just turned the lights off. She said that Judge Clark was in the Juvenile court today, across the street.

Oh boy. We were late now. We scrambled to get down the four floors, outside, across the street, and into the right building, making it past security and a few sketchy teens. Of course, it was past 3:30 now, and Judge Clark's courtroom at JV was now empty. We waited and waited. Rhett tried tracking someone down, anyone, while I waited in the courtroom.

Finally, a lady came into the courtroom and asked if she could help me. I explained that my husband was supposed to get sworn in today by Judge Clark. She said, "I'm Judge Clark, and I was here at 3:30 and no one was here." I explained that they had sent us to the other building, and then she said, "They didn't call you to tell you it changed?" I answered no.
And then Rhett walked in with Pyper. Good ol' Pippy saved us.
"Oh my! What a darling baby!" And she started cooing at Pyper and laughing and saying how cute she was.
Then she said, "Well let me go put my robe on."

She sat up at the front podium, and Rhett, Pyper, and I sat where the attorneys sit for trial. (Me and Pippy were co-counsel!) And then she read the oath; Rhett repeated it after her. I almost stood up and interupted, "Your Honor, I object!" just for the fun of it. But I didn't.

Then she signed it. And we were done.

Sitting next to Rhett as he stood and read the vows, I swelled with pride. We are so proud of him and his accomplishments, his sacrifices, and his hard work.

Love Note

A few weeks ago, Dylan who is five and a brother to one of Summer's classmates, drew this for Summer.

Notice the heart on top.

And them holding hands.

The good thing is . . . Summer was completely clueless. He was trying to give it to her, and she kept running around playing with the other kids. I told him I would carry it for her . . .

and give it to her in fifteen years.

MY New Bedtime Routine

One of the greatest blessings I've had while living here in Spokane is being able to take what's called the "Circle of Security" (COS) training. The COS is an attachment based theory, and the training I've taken (an eight week class) focuses on parenting and the relationship(s) with your child(ren). I have absolutely loved it. This year was the second year I did the training, and I feel like it has opened my eyes to a lot of things about each girl and myself.

COS's basic premise is that all behavior is communication, and if the parent can learn to identify the need being communicated in the behavior, the parent can then meet the need of the child and thus help create a stable relationship as well as a secure attachment.

In doing this training, I did a lot of self reflection, and I began to realize what causes me anxiety as a parent. And guess what one of those is??? BEDTIME! Yes. Bedtime causes anxiety in me because I want to be able to read the girls a story while they lovingly cuddle in my lap and quietly listen, taking turns asking questions or turning pages for me. And as soon as the story is over, they kneel down and pray together, then quickly jump into bed without any complaints. I tuck them in, kiss them goodnight, and walk out of the room for them to peacefully fall asleep.

Okay. So that's where the anxiety comes in. Because it doesn't happen that way. And for a while, I began to wonder if it was even possible to ever happen that way. I began to wonder, do other kids go right to bed? Do other kids make their parents sit in their room for sometimes more than an hour until they fall asleep? Do other kids make their parents almost pull their hair out as the child flails and screams and kicks in bed because they don't want to sleep?

Well, after taking the COS training for the second time, I realized that one of my weaknesses as a parent is that I second guess my decisions for my kids. It's like, I get that little devil and angel on my shoulders. One moment, I say, "Summer, climb off the table please." The next, I'm thinking, It's okay if she climbs on the table. We don't have a lot of room here, and she needs at least some kind of exercise. So when she doesn't even acknowledge my command, I let it slide and let her stay there. And then a few minutes later, I realize, Wow, that looks pretty dangerous. She better get down. So I ask her again to get down. And then that little she-devil says, But if it were a jungle gym, it would totally be okay. In fact, the table is safer than a jungle gym, because at least there are no holes for her to fall through! So when she ignores my request again, I again let it go. Sometimes, when I know I'm going to have this little debate and feel anxiety over a decision, I choose to ignore the confrontation altogether, to protect me from feeling the anxiety. But then Summer's climbing on counters and tables and dressers and even bookshelves, and I'm not saying anything to stop her! (Okay, so I may be dramatizing a little here . . . maybe . . .)

Needless to say, Summer has figured out that if she just ignores what I say, she can get away with anything.

But! Not anymore. The COS has helped me realize that the anxiety I feel when I have to make a decision for my child should be the secondary concern for me, and the safety and care of my child is the primary concern. (It makes perfect sense! But when you have to take your anxiety head on, it's HARD!)

And what is the solution? Well, because of my weakness in following through, Summer (and Claire too, but she is a different story) has begun to think, Who is really in charge here? Mom is my mom, but when I want to do something, I get to do it. So who, then, is really in charge? This is quite a scary question for a little three year old. For the past three months, since I attended COS the second time, I've been working on helping her realize that I am in charge, and that I will take care of her.

Now, this all ties back into bedtime. Our new bedtime routine goes something like this: once we make it to reading time, the girls grab a book or two. I hold each girl (if they want, sometimes they just prefer sitting by me), but I hold Summer for her book and Claire for her's. Then, when it's bed time, I tell them to get in bed. Sometimes they do, sometimes they need a little assistance from me. Once they're in bed, I pull Claire's blanket up around her, stroke the hair away from her face, look into her beautiful blue eyes, and then say, "Claire, who is in charge tonight?"
She says, "Momma."
I quiz her: "Is Summer in charge?"
"No."
"Is Pyper in charge?"
"No." (smile)
"Is Claire in charge?"
"No."
"Is this stuffed cheetah in charge?"
"No." (smile)
"Then who is in charge?"
"Momma's in charge."
"That's right. And momma says it's bedtime. I love you, and I'm taking care of you. That's why it's time to close your eyes, rest your body, and go to sleep. Because I love you. And I'm helping your body grow healthy and strong. So we can play and play and play tomorrow." (This is almost verbatim every night.)

And as I say this, the little she-devil on my left begins to shrink and shrink until she disappears, leaving the angel on my right saying, "Yes. This is a good decision you are making for your children."

Then I kiss Claire goodnight, tell her I'm going to go wash the dishes, and I'll come check on her when I'm done.

I make my way to Summer and do the same thing. Sometimes I have to throw a little threat out that if they talk or scream or cry, then I'll have to close the door (which I follow through with, but I only close it for a minute or so, until they are ready to settle down and listen to me wash dishes).

And guess what? Usually, after I do this with Summer, she throws her arms around me and gives me a tight-squeeze hug.

Then I walk into the kitchen and do the dishes, with the quiet of two sleepy girls behind me.

"P" and Dots

Today, Summer said:
(and I'm differentiating with spelling, though she did not)

"Mom! 'Pee' is go potty. 'Pea' is for lunch. 'P' is for Porter . . . Pyper . . . and nobody else because I don't know the rest."


Yesterday, while we were driving to a friend's house, a ways up the mountain near the lake, we saw three young deer. Summer said she saw dots on one of them. I said, "Yes, there are dots on all of them because they are babies."
She said, "Docks?"
I said, "Dots."
She said, "Docks?"
I said, "No, dots."
She said again, "Docks?"
And without thinking, I said, "No. D-O-T-S. Dots." (spelling it out for her)
She said, "Oh. Dots. D-O-T-S," as if she totally knew what that meant.

I laughed--at myself for spelling it out to her, and at her for acting like it was old-hat that I'd spelled a word to her to help clarify what I was saying.

Claire's Tenderness

Just today, Summer was whimpering about a hurt finger.
Claire said, "What happened?"
"I have an owie right here," Summer said, pointing at her middle finger.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Want me to kiss it better?" Claire asked.
Summer reached out, and Claire kissed her finger.
"No, right here, Claire." Summer pointed to the other side of her finger.
Claire leaned over and kissed the other side.
I inspected the finger. There were no visible signs of any damage done, though I do believe she hurt it somehow.
Then Summer said, "Oh Claire. Kiss it here too."
Claire responded kindly, "I'm sorry. I already kissed it."