Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

The Urine is Here!

by

The sanity is not.

We’re doing it. We’re saying goodbye to diapers and hello to stench and stains and public restrooms and plastic bags in my purse waiting to be filled with little peed-in Lightning McQueen special pants.

Magoo’s been ready but lazy for a while.

I’ve been not ready AND lazy for a while.

But I’ve decided it’s time. The weather is perfect for airing little baby man parts and whizzing on the grass. My back is just well enough to allow me to laze around asking Magoo if he’s wet or dry hundreds of times a day but not well enough to be running all over the world.

The fear of little yellow liquid surprises will keep me close to home which will be good for my back. I’m at that dangerous stage of recovery where I feel “okay” so I want to plow through everything that’s piled up while I was taking it easy. But I know my body’s not ready to go full force yet.

Full-time potty training Magoo could be just the road block I need to keep my feet planted safely at home. I should leave the house every once in a while though so I’ll have the experience of smelling the air outside our giant litter-box of a home and when I come back here I’ll know how bad it is and take steps to regulate it.

**Update — The first day of Potty Boot Camp is over and he’s had one accident and managed to spontaneously run to the potty 5 times listening only to the inner voice of his clueless little bladder. He’s doing really well! My main concern now is the uncushioned nature of his tender little nuggets in those big boy pants. I fear that he slams around this house with far too little concern for his future children.**

Perspective

by

In my church none of the teachers or clergy get paid for their time or expertise. To be honest, none of us really have expertise and very few of us have any time to speak of. We just all pitch in and do our share. The bishop (also unpaid) prays for inspiration and then issues specific jobs or “callings” to the members of the congregation. He gets his calling to be bishop from someone higher up who gets his calling from someone even higher up, all the way up to the apostles and prophets who do get paid something because they work for the church 24/7 and their families need to eat and buy Mormon Tabernacle Choir CDs and Jell-O crystals and whatever else prophets’ families spend money on.

This is a long lead-in to tell you that I’ve been serving as the Sunday teacher to some 9-year-olds for a while but was recently asked to be an advisor/teacher to a group of 14 and 15-year-old girls. I was giddy with glee to receive this calling for several reasons.

1. I can scout out all the best babysitters in our congregation.

2. I love this age group with all the drama and angst and life-changing decisions they’re facing. They’re really down to the hard work of deciding who they are and what they choose in the next few years will have a huge impact on how their lives go. I’m so excited to be a part of that transitional period.

3. They’re a ton of fun to hang out with and I fear I have more in common with them than I maybe should… at my age.

4. I think the very best thing about teaching them is that I really need to stay on my toes and work hard to make sure my life is in order so that I can be a good example to them. I don’t want them to say, “Kathryn’s a lazy skuz ball so I guess it’s okay if I am too.”

I’ve really been examining my life lately and each time (twice so far — woo-hoo bow in awe of my extensive experience) that I prepare a lesson for these girls I feel the need to pray so hard and think so long about what I can say to them to help them choose what they need to choose to be happy.

Today we talked about having an eternal perspective, which really just means thinking about our actions in terms of the big picture, life before we came to earth and life after we die. What will be the long-term consequences of what we choose today?

I told the girls that sometimes I struggle just to have a 5-minute perspective. I frequently don’t consider what consequences my actions will have in the extreme short term. I just want to do what I want to do and I want to do it now. So I suggested that they look at various aspects of their lives and try to broaden their perspectives just a bit. Maybe broaden the way they think about their relationships with their parents to a 5 year perspective. “How will the way I treat my mom today affect my life and her life 5 years from now?”

I want to work on having a year-long perspective with raising my kids. How will my actions or inactions (because I’m so flippin’ tired that I’m running on auto-pilot as a mother) affect how they feel about themselves and who they become a year from now… then stretch to 10 years from now… then think about eternity.

It’s really amazing to me how tunnel-visioned I can become living from one day to the next, getting out of bed and shlumping around the house all day until it’s bedtime and then repeating the cycle without stopping to think about what I’m doing and why.

So I’m hoping to get better at remembering to think about 4 questions:

1. Who am I right now? A daughter of God, a woman who says she’s a writer but rarely finishes a writing project she starts, a mother who adores her children but not enough to get up early and be ready to help them get a good start to their days, a great cookie baker and eater, etc.

2. Who do I want to become? A morning person, a spiritually full and peaceful woman, someone who serves others naturally without hesitation, a published author with steady work, the leader of a dance-battle-winning hip hop dance crew made up of frumpy moms, someone who’s not asked repeatedly if she’s pregnant when she’s not, etc.

3. Who does my Heavenly Father know I can become?

4. What am I doing right now to achieve these goals or sabotage them?

It’s a lot. A lot to think about. When I prepare lessons for these girls, I get all passionate and focused and I just want to plead with them to be a little better and do a little more with their lives. In the end I think I was given this calling so I could learn to be more passionate and focused in my own life, so I could find the motivation I need to be a little better and do a little more myself.

My Little Village

by

Last week my body fought back. After months of pushing and pulling and running and jumping and multitasking to the point of insanity, my body decided it had reached its limit. The only way to get me to agree and give it a break was to shut down one of its vital functions. It chose walking. [continue reading at Parenting.com.

Thoughts on a Flat Back

by

Since my back’s been bad, I’ve spent a lot of time alone. Alone with my bed. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my current choice of natural deodorant. I’ve sworn off aluminum in an attempt to detox my body and help prevent dementia, Alzheimer’s and that pesky beeping sound at the airport metal detectors.

But I have to ask myself, “Would I rather live a life that ends in a slow and depressing degradation of my mind and memory or would I prefer to live a long full life where I forever remember perfectly how bad I always smelled?”

Her back is “out”

by

Kathryn’s back is “out”. Not “out” as in “un-cool”; “out” as in “out of commission”. (I find her back very cool.) So she asked I post a little something to let you all know that she has not, in fact, passed away, but is merely immobilized for the time being.

Because staying on her back is crucial to her recovery, today was a unique Father’s day–I got to really be a dad, full-bore, the whole day. It was tiring, but I love my family and it was great to be able to run the whole show for them.

Do you like my party hat?

Thank you so much to those who have been aware of Kathryn’s sidelined state and have been so kind. Your encouraging words and especially your helpful hands (thanks for the dinners!) have really cheered us and helped us along.

One such friend, whom I will call Brandy, went so far as to take Laylee shopping to get a Father’s Day present for me. Laylee had decided (on her own) that I needed new “work shoes”. Not your everyday Father’s Day gift idea, for sure. I guess my current pair are starting to deteriorate a bit. So Kathryn sent her to get me a new pair like my old ones:

Old shoes.

Instead, here is what she came home with:

New shoes.

Apparently, the trip to pick them out was quite fun, too; Brandy sent us an email afterwards to detail their exploits together, from which I quote:

“Laylee was so adorable today =) She made Roberto and I laugh the entire time! I’m going to try and remember the funny things she said and share them with you.

But first you should know that Laylee picked out the shoes for Dan all by herself-—she didn’t want to get him tennis shoes-—she wanted to get him ”˜work’ shoes. She was so cute-—very particular about which shoes he’d like. So, yeah — I hope you like them, or rather Dan likes them!

Laylee was very proud of herself. I pointed out many Skechers and Laylee would say ”˜those actually look like Bobsled shoes’ if the soles had bumps on them—-which most of the Skechers had. She said that about 3 pairs of Skechers. It was hilarious—-like when have you ever been shopping for Bobsled shoes before and how does she know what those would look like?!

She liked the fact that the shoes she chose would look good with “jeans… and even sweats”—-she’s so funny. I tried to steer her towards running shoes like you described or other Skechers that you had to tie up and had some design on them-—like two-toned or stripes, but she was set on black as he already had a brown pair of shoes. I had Laylee try on the shoes for comfort testing—-it was cute—-she tried on one pair and said they had ”˜bumps’ on the sides, so they wouldn’t work. She really thought the ones we ended up getting were comfy!

Laylee told us she made a Father’s Day card and said ”˜I wrote a Father’s Day card and put “To Dad” and other Father’s Day stuff’ =) It was funnier the way she said it because it sounded like ”˜To Dad’ was a Father’s Day saying or something.

Laylee said ”˜I am a good example in my family because I always have to remind my mom and dad to not say bad words’. Which after we laughed, I told Roberto it is probably words like ”˜hate (I hate peas) or stupid’ etc. But it sounds so funny coming from a child — as though you used swear words 😉 <ed.: We used to sometimes, in extreme situations, say “gosh”. I guess we still do, since Laylee has to remind us not too. 🙂 >

I told Laylee she could pick out Dan’s favorite candy bar — so we were looking at all the choices and she picks the Hershey Bar and says ”˜I’ve seen him eat one of these before, so it must be his favorite’. Ahhhhh, too funny.

Laylee told us she was going to keep Dan’s present a secret, so it’s like ”˜keeping the beans’ instead of ‘spilling the beans’–too clever! =)

We bought Laylee bubble gum and she said as she chewed some ”˜it makes me smile because it is so delicious.’ She then stated ”˜when people are sad, they should eat food because then it would make them smile and be happy’—-she has no idea that it’s called emotional eating-—LoL.

So, it was entertaining and enjoyable to spend time with Laylee-—she’s great Kathryn!”

Thanks for “keeping the beans”, Laylee. It was a great Father’s Day surprise. 🙂

Dad and Laylee, Father's Day 2008

P.S. I wore the shoes to church today, and they were comfy and looked great.

Speed Walking Glory

by

Best Parade EverDan supervised the kiddie festivities with mildly-annoyed resignation while I walked a 5K in the mud behind some of my running girlfriends. My joints are fairly bad and I once had a physical therapist tell me not to become a runner so I use that as an excuse to walk races with dignity. And I was chock full of dignity on Saturday, speed-walking along the gravel trail past the cows with my stretch pants rolled up to mid-calf to keep them out of the mud.

My original goal was to complete the 3 miles in less than an hour. By the time I finished my only goal was to not let the old lady with the cane cross the finish line before I did. She kept passing me as we walked along the trail and at first it stressed me out. Eventually I just had to face the fact that I was an amazing speed walking athlete and that if an old lady with a cane could pass me like that, then she was the freaking awesomest old lady with a cane who ever lived and thusly a worthy opponent. She was my nemesis and I could not let her win.

Mud EverywhereSo towards the end of the race I ran a bit until I was a safe distance ahead of her and then crossed the finish line with a time of 1 hour and 30 seconds. I was glad to beat my arch rival but a little frustrated that I couldn’t walk 3 miles in under an hour. And then I saw a friendly face at the sidelines so I walked over to chat. After a few minutes went by, someone mentioned that although I had crossed the finish line, my place in the race wouldn’t be recorded until I walked another hundred yards and turned in my number. So yeah. Several people had passed me at that point, including the OLWAC, who was probably laughing to herself knowing that our epic struggle had ended and she had gotten her revenge.

But at least I got a free t-shirt… and a free banana… and some free water… all included in the $25 entrance fee. And I found out later that the clock at the finish line had been set to time a race that had started 15 minutes earlier so I’d actually walked the run in about 45 minutes, smashing my original goal to tiny shards of glory.
Nancy Likes Bananas

Land of Eternal Winter

by

The sky is blue outside my window but I have trouble believing it. It’s been so gray and dark all day, all week, all YEAR. We have little bursts of sun and then back to weeks and weeks of oppressive grey like the sky is pressing down closer and closer, tighter and tighter until it chokes the very life and laughter out of every person, plant and rock in my little world.

Can I just tell you that today was not a good day for my mentals? They are not happy. I’m working up to being drug-free and proud in anticipation of a possible attempt at a third child and the strange fluctuations in my “special vitamins” we’re using to get there are leaving me in a bit of a rough way, complicated by the ratchin’-fratchin’ gloom of abysmal death and the fact that I’m not getting a ton of sleep.

Magoo has decided that sleeping through the night is for babies. Big boys prefer to get up and watch movies with their parents from hiding places in the hall, pass out on the floor or on the stairs. They also like to climb in bed with their parents at 2am, claiming to be afraid of T-Rex’s even though T-Rex’s are their best friends, and spend the rest of the night trying to make their elbow fit in their mommy’s nostril. Big boys are the super best.

This weekend our city had its summer festival, despite the cold and damp. Laylee begged us to let her ride her bike in the kiddy parade, claiming imperviousness to cold, bravery and fortitude beyond her years. After 45 minutes of waiting in the bone-chilling cold and rain for the parade to start with parents who had the nerve to put all the gloves and ski pants away because they mistakenly thought it was June, her fortitude waned, providing us with one of the best pictures ever taken by the camera of man.
Joy and Gladness
Magoo, who insisted that his dad dress him in the non-waterproof jacket that a neighbor’s baby had left over at our house, was unfazed by the weather and left all who passed him humming “Fat Man in a Little Coat” by Chris Farley.
Fat Man in a Little Coat
And then we went to a parade in the rain, full of dogs and tractors and large raccoon credit union mascots with matted fur who Laylee surmised must have escaped from Disneyland “because that’s where they have most of the people that look like that.”
Joy Returns

more tractormore tractormore tractordogsmore tractormore tractortractormore tractor
Escaped Disney Coon

Tune in tomorrow to find out about how I almost SLAUGHTERED an old lady with a cane in the 5K-race-through-the-mud portion of the festivities.

To Do

by

I wrote a post at Parenting today about how Laylee seems to follow in my footsteps.

Well here’s a big fat peek into the world of Laylee’s mom. That’s me. What kind of a person must I be if my daughter wakes up at the crack of dawn and creates a list of all the things she plans to get done that day? She is five years old. She is neurotic. She is awesome.

She told me what each of the pictographs meant and proceeded to work aggressively to complete all her tasks.

to-do list

write my ABCs for Rowan
Write out the ABCs for Rowan

draw a picture for Ellie
Draw a picture for Ellie. I hope it ended up looking better than that thing.

play in the sandbox
Play in the Sandbox. She writes this to get past my horrible tyranny. It’s been pouring rain and she’s been begging me to play in the sand/slop box. She thinks I can’t say no if it’s on a “list.” She is wrong.

watch TV
Watch TV. Our TV isn’t quite that small. Almost, but not quite. And it has way more static.

pick flowers
Pick Flowers. Her favorite activity. Although she’s always surprised and angry when they wither and die 10 minutes later.

eat vitamins
Eat Vitamins. The highlight of every day.

play on the wii
Play on the Wii. Oh how I love this little tiny drawing of a wii-mote.

eat cereal for breakfast
Eat Cereal for Breakfast

eat chicken nuggets for lunch
Eat Chicken Nuggets for Lunch

Eat Macaroni for Dinner
Eat Macaroni for Dinner. I acutally made a quality dinner this night and she was STEAMED! Veggie chilli was not on her list! But then she loved it and this list was forgotten.

exercise for three five minutes
Exercise for Three Five Minutes. I love her little exercise pose with the fist up in the air.

Feed the Fish
Feed the Fish. Notice the tiny drawing of a fish on the fish food container.

Play in the garden
Play in the Garden. If only our flowers were actually that big so Laylee would really look like Thumbelina in the garden.

Daring Reads — The Host

by

Have you read the vampire books by Stephenie Meyer? The teen vampire werewolf romance books by Stephenie Meyer? Me neither.

Okay. I did read them. A bit. Because they’re set in the Northwest and Ms. Meyer went to BYU so I feel some sense of loyalty. I was just going to dip my toes in and read a bit so I knew what everyone was talking about. That was a year ago. In August when book 4 is released, I’m going to Port Angeles with some girlfriends, staying up all night reading Breaking Dawn and tooling around Forks with the other tween wannabe mom-type people, visiting the various spots where Bella and Edward formed their bond of passionate and forbidden vampiric high school love. We picked a hotel in Port Angeles because it had a bookstore nearby that was willing to stay open until midnight on August 1st.

I wouldn’t call the Twilight books great literature but they are incredibly gripping page-turners and something about them makes me squeal like a wee girl, all the while rolling my eyes and saying, “I’m way too old for this.” And then I do things like book hotel rooms and beg bookstore owners to stay open until midnight.

Anyhoo, I recently read Stephenie Meyer’s first attempt at Adult Fiction, The Host and I was pleasantly surprised. While the teen series was fast moving and an engrossing narrative, it felt like purely a brain vacation. Packed with adjectives about the magnetically attractive hunkishness of Edward’s each and every bodily feature, from his chiseled passionately pulsing pectorals to the oh-so-steamy third-from-the-center eyelash over his liquid-gold left eye, I would classify the series as fun fluff.

The Host had a different feel. Although romance was a big factor and the book had its fair share of hot moments, it focused on deeper themes. War, intolerance, human cruelty, and alien medical procedures are just a few. The book made me think and feel and consider how I treat people. It was also really inventive and kept me guessing what would come next.

Stephenie Meyer kicked it up a notch as a writer and storyteller in the Host, which made the Twilight series seem like a warm-up exercise. I’m excited to see what she does next… that is after she’s finished writing a gazillion sequels.