Of Boys and Beads and Buttons and .....Noses

I try really hard not to ever say things like "Boys will be boys!"  Or "He's all boy!"  And I have been known to scoff at people I overhear talking about their one and only child and how well he represents the most typical stereotype of a boy.  Their boy is so full of energy and never holds still and they wish so badly they had a nice, quiet, prim and proper little girl who would just sit quietly and draw or something....and I think well, I have a little girl I could show them who certainly isn't prim or proper and hasn't ever sat still for more than 30 seconds at a time or else that I have a little boy who is the sweetest, kindest soul ever and who is content to sit quietly for hours at a time reading a book....or even that drawing a picture is not always the quiet activity that some may imagine (trust me, I live with artists).

There is this one thing though that, for us, has been consistent with all our boys.  Not one of our girls has ever done this.  But... every single one of our boys has stuck various objects up their nose as a toddler.  I wish I had thought to collect the objects and display them in a frame as I once saw at an ENT's office, because it would be a colorful and varied display.

Rhys was the first offender, back when I was young and inexperienced and more easily panicked.  He came to me and confessed in a frightened whisper and with tears in his eyes, that he had a small gold safety pin up his nose and that it hurt.  When I questioned HOW he had got a safety pin up his nose he said "I put it there."   And when I then inquired why, he said "I don't know." And started to cry in earnest which effectively ended any possibility of me scolding him over this and instead I did the practical thing, squelched my panicky parent emotions, and retrieved the safety pin with a pair of tweezers.  Ta-da!  I didn't know then how routine similar scenarios would become in my life.

One afternoon, my children were entertaining themselves and their parents by bouncing on a bed and then jumping to the floor.  (Hey, don't knock it, you know it's fun.) Amik was littler than the rest, but participating nonetheless, and in one particularly good jump, apparently landed ever so slightly harder than he had previously and instantly dislodged a small white button from one nostril.  It literally shot from his nose.  "How long has that been up there?"  we wondered, a tad bit chagrined.

The preferred objects for stuffing up nostrils were definitely beads and buttons.  Amik actually took things to a new level and tried putting things in his ears too, an unfortunate choice as it nullified the nifty little trick I learned from another mother (of a little girl I might add, who had similar 'interests' as my boys did).  It turns out, if you plug up the nostril that doesn't currently house a bead or button or other small object, and then gently, but quickly blow in the kid's mouth, whatever is stuck up that nose will, usually, come shooting out.  Sort of like that button that Amik dislodged that day jumping on the bed.  Except sometimes, it won't.

When Liam was little, I spotted something up his nose.  Way up his nose.  It was white, and shiny, and maybe not really there, so I did nothing at first.  Then a couple days later I saw it again.  This time I actually took a flashlight and peered up the poor kid's nose and determined .....that there was definitely something up there.  That was all I could tell, seriously.  I used my tried and true 'blow it out' method, but all I did was cause my baby considerable alarm.  Kris tried tweezers, we held Liam down, but the unknown object seemed to actually repel tweezers, Kris could not get a grip for anything and Liam was miserable.  We let him go to sleep.  We waited until we were certain he was really, really out.  I turned him so his head was actually hanging off the bed.  And Kris, properly rested from his previous efforts, tried again.  And while Liam peacefully slumbered on, his Daddy successfully retrieved from the poor boy's nose a ...googly eye.  Yep.  True story.

I think that was probably the last such 'surgery' in our family.  And that googly eye would have made a fine addition to my framed 'objects extracted from noses (and occasionally ears)' display.  Up there with all those safety pins, beads and buttons, it really would have added some variety you know?  If only I had had the forethought on that first fateful day with little Rhys and got started on that bit of family history.

Same boys as above, young enough here that if you look closely you might just spot something  up someone's nose!

The Hard Part is Over?

So we took several of our kids to the Denver Art Museum a few months ago.  (I was a little sad that they no longer give you a little pin to wear that reads 'DAM').  Anyway, ten of us were standing in a mob at the front desk, talking to the 20 something receptionist who was running through her standard admission to the museum questions, and she asked if any of the children were under 6.  Because my brain is a little mushy after all these years of being the mommy, I had to think about that question for a second before I responded that, no, the youngest was 6.  She smiled at me then and said all cheerily; "So the hard part is over!"

Really? Really? The hard part is over?!  I hadn't noticed things getting markedly 'easier' as my children reached the magic age of six.  In fact, I feel a certain nostalgia for the days when everybody was under six.

For one thing, they used to go to bed before me and I would stay up for a while enjoying the quiet. I could sew or read or watch a movie or just relax and eat ice cream or drink cocoa with no one the wiser.  Now kissing my children goodnight typically means that I am going to bed and they are the ones staying up watching movies and eating ice cream.

I miss the days when my children's emotions could be soothed with a good hug and a pat on the head.  I am not saying that a two year old doesn't have emotions, but I don't know a lot of them who can put a good sized hole in a wall when they are feeling frustrated.

Also, I feel like I used to be so smart....my kids thought I knew everything and could do anything.  As they get older, they have started to get a little more suspicious of my omniscience.  Sometimes I think they suspect that I really know very little and am just making this all up as I go along.  I think it starts when they first come to me with a math problem and I have to say "isn't there a CD with this math program?"

I used to be able to pick them up.  This was highly useful. It worked when they were sad and needed to be comforted.  It worked when they were hurt and needed help.  It worked really well when they were stubborn and just wouldn't get in the car already so we could go!  Except, eventually I can't do it anymore.

And I don't know if you realize this, but they let big kids drive  On the road.  With other cars.  But, before the kids get to go drive around all alone, with their parents sitting at home worrying about them, they make the parent sit in the passenger seat for months at a time with the teenage driver.  And it is just about the scariest thing you have ever had to do with your kid in so many ways.  I liked it when they rode tricycles.  On the sidewalk.

And here is the hardest part....if you have done your job right with these little ones who follow you all over and think you are so smart and awesome and fun to be with even when you are just folding socks, then what happens is they grow up, become capable, independent, intelligent grown ups... and they leave you.

Mission Calls

So, last week Kegan and Rhys got their mission calls.  Not quite two weeks since Bayley got hers.  But of course, everyone knows that much already.  Because I have Facebook.  Where I can announce in concise statements the everyday events or even non-events of our lives and allow all my Facebook friends to comment or not, or give me that enviable, thumbs up 'like.'

But the details aren't on Facebook.  things like how Bayley got her papers submitted a week before the boys did but was then worried that her call wouldn't be assigned until their papers were in too, so she wanted a report daily on the status of Kegan's and Rhys's papers.  Something which we had no control over.

Or that her call was not held after all, and she knew it was assigned and was anxiously counting down the hours to the arrival of the Thursday mail when it was supposed to be there....but it wasn't.  And I received a relatively frantic call about 2 in the afternoon that went sort of like this "It didn't come! What am I going to do?  I can't wait another day!"

But about 2 in the afternoon the next day I received another phone call that was something like this "It's here! It's here! It's here!....I want to open it now!"  This was followed by a lot of frantic discussion between Bayley and her friend Diana about what they could and could not tell about said call without actually opening it.   Because of course it had to be opened back at Diana's house, in front of Skype with all the rest of us gathered on this end to witness.  Which, after a lot of texting and some schedule rearranging, it eventually was.  And weirdly, it really was Texas, just like Bayley had flippantly said it was when she was on the phone with me frantically trying to 'sense' what was inside that big white envelope.

Unlike Bayley's call, Kegan's and Rhys's calls did get held up in Salt Lake a week longer than expected.  So while we were originally told to expect them just a week after Bayley's, as their papers had been sent in (and by that I mean 'clicked' in really, since it is all 'sent' to Salt Lake electronically) just a week after hers, we soon learned that it would be one more week, on Wednesday "if all the stars align" but probably on Thursday according to our Stake President.  Thursday it was.

Kegan and Rhys were comparatively way more relaxed than Bayley upon the arrival of their calls....Kegan and Rhys are usually comparatively way more relaxed than Bayley...except when they aren't.  But on this day it may have been more because they were extremely sleep deprived, especially Kegan who had literally stayed up ALL night the night before completing an art project--not necessarily the first time he (or Rhys) has done so.  We had to nearly force them out the door to 'check' the mail after Kris got home from work and maybe, possibly, had a peek inside that mailbox before he came in.

So, they retrieved the mail.  And again there was the frantic texting and calling and gathering of siblings.  Bayley was back at the Briscoes with her laptop and we were back at the kitchen counter with one of ours, except this time the big white envelopes were on this end.  And this time, Bayley's friend Diana wasn't present because she had left the day before for the MTC to begin her mission.

And this time Kegan and Rhys had control over the pace of things.  And they may have been a little dramatic in the reading of the calls.  And Kegan may have been in danger of actually falling asleep in the 'marshmallow chair' before Rhys finally got around to the part that said Argentina.  And then Kris may have actually read over Kegan's shoulder and whispered 'Chile' in my ear before Kegan got around to announcing it himself, since he was actually announcing even the punctuation as he went.

The next day, as Kegan and Rhys perused their lists of what to bring with them, Kegan announced  "I feel like I finally got my Hogwarts letter!"  Except I don't recall Hogwarts reminding their students to bring some serious sunscreen, lipbalm and heat rash ointment or to be sure to get immunized against Typhoid and Yellow Fever.  Yikes.