Following is the verbatim conversation I had with Shulamith's 3-year-old son yesterday:
Swen: Hey Her, do you have a penis?
Me: No. I'm a girl. Girls don't have penises.
Swen: But mom does, though.
Me: No. Mom is a girl too, and girls don't have penises.
Swen: Mom and Her don't have a penis because they are girls.
Me: Right.
Swen: Eli has a penis.
Me: Yes, Swen, he does.
The End.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Sunday, March 20, 2016
On phones and family
...and that is alliteration, by the way, even though the two words don't begin with the same letter. The digraph /ph/ makes the "f" sound, so yeah.
Just like almost everyone, our family members have been through numerous different phones in the past 15ish years, since we first got cellular devices. I honestly can't remember how we ever functioned without these guys. I know we did, but how? I was the most adamant naysayer too. "I am not important enough that I need to carry around a phone. If someone needs me that badly, he can leave a message, and I'll return the call." Ha ha yep, that was me!
I still remember what triggered my first cell phone purpose and exactly when that was. Shulamith was 14 and had just made the varsity cheerleading squad. Suddenly, my little girl, who could not even drive herself, was riding around in cars with seniors in high school! Yeah, I went right out and bought us both phones and instructed her to charge it, leave it on, and answer every time I called. She always did.
It was the most basic phone and didn't even have text messaging. Honestly, how did I exist without the ability to text? It would be years still before we all had smart phones. I remember coming home with my very first one, and Isaiah pointing out that he, so much more than I, would truly utilize the thing. Truth. But, well, I'm the mom, so I got one first.
Now it is 2016, and all the Erichsen-Websters have smart phones. But there's this continual battle among us about which is best, the Android or the iPhone. It's become greater than a matter of simple preference; it's a moral issue around here. Gerald and Isaiah are die-hard Android users. Won't even consider iPhones. Shulamith and Matt are solid iPhone users. Eli, Seth, and I are less committed.
This past week, four of us were ready for upgrades, so the conflict arose once again. A house divided, we were. Gerald and Eli both got new Android models; Seth and I opted for iPhones. Isaiah was so disappointed in Seth but grateful Eli "chose the right."
As for me, I'm just gonna say that I LOVE my new iPhone. So much better than my previous Droid (which Shulamith made me get, but that's another story). I can't explain why I like it so much more; I can't put into words why I'm so much happier.
It's just better.
So we're all stocked up in cell phones for now, and everyone happy with his or her choice. The phone wars have died down just in time for March Madness. Isaiah, our token basketball enthusiast, has somehow recruited Seth, and they both now spend all their free time screaming at the TV.
I think I preferred the cell phone squabbles.
Just like almost everyone, our family members have been through numerous different phones in the past 15ish years, since we first got cellular devices. I honestly can't remember how we ever functioned without these guys. I know we did, but how? I was the most adamant naysayer too. "I am not important enough that I need to carry around a phone. If someone needs me that badly, he can leave a message, and I'll return the call." Ha ha yep, that was me!
I still remember what triggered my first cell phone purpose and exactly when that was. Shulamith was 14 and had just made the varsity cheerleading squad. Suddenly, my little girl, who could not even drive herself, was riding around in cars with seniors in high school! Yeah, I went right out and bought us both phones and instructed her to charge it, leave it on, and answer every time I called. She always did.
It was the most basic phone and didn't even have text messaging. Honestly, how did I exist without the ability to text? It would be years still before we all had smart phones. I remember coming home with my very first one, and Isaiah pointing out that he, so much more than I, would truly utilize the thing. Truth. But, well, I'm the mom, so I got one first.
Now it is 2016, and all the Erichsen-Websters have smart phones. But there's this continual battle among us about which is best, the Android or the iPhone. It's become greater than a matter of simple preference; it's a moral issue around here. Gerald and Isaiah are die-hard Android users. Won't even consider iPhones. Shulamith and Matt are solid iPhone users. Eli, Seth, and I are less committed.
This past week, four of us were ready for upgrades, so the conflict arose once again. A house divided, we were. Gerald and Eli both got new Android models; Seth and I opted for iPhones. Isaiah was so disappointed in Seth but grateful Eli "chose the right."
As for me, I'm just gonna say that I LOVE my new iPhone. So much better than my previous Droid (which Shulamith made me get, but that's another story). I can't explain why I like it so much more; I can't put into words why I'm so much happier.
It's just better.
So we're all stocked up in cell phones for now, and everyone happy with his or her choice. The phone wars have died down just in time for March Madness. Isaiah, our token basketball enthusiast, has somehow recruited Seth, and they both now spend all their free time screaming at the TV.
I think I preferred the cell phone squabbles.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
"Da da is all gone."
"When you are going on a journey, pray once.
When you are going to war, pray twice.
But pray three times when you are about to take care of someone else's two small children for four days." (adapted from Russian proverb)
Back story. Through his work, Shulamith's husband Matt won a free, all expense paid trip for two to Costa Rica. It seemed unreal at first; when things seem too good to be true, it's usually because they are. Surely there must be some sort of catch. There wasn't. This trip to an all-inclusive resort in beautiful Costa Rica was absolutely, entirely, 100% free!
But could they really go? Could Shulamith leave her kids for that long? The discussion began. Shulamith doesn't ever leave her kids, even during the day, let alone for four night nights. She was terrified.
I advised her to go. When would such an opportunity come along again? Plus, the timing is perfect. She is between babies; she isn't pregnant, and she doesn't have a newborn.
Still, she hesitated. She generally doesn't share my anxiety disorder (fortunately), but she definitely experienced a taste of it. What if the babies died while she was gone? What if she and Matt died?
"No one is going to die," I reassured her.
In reality, Matt thought I would die. It's not that their kids are so hard to care for; it's their 20-month-old daughter's sleep issues, more precisely, her lack of sleep. Kennedy loves to nurse; most toddlers do if their moms let them, and she especially likes to nurse to sleep. Yeah, that would be a problem. I haven't nursed a baby in 12 years.
I knew I wouldn't die. I promised Shulamith, once again, that no one would die.
She decided to go. Hooray!
Story. They left in the middle of the night (literally). They had to be at the airport at 4:00 Thursday morning, so she texted me when they were ready to leave, and I sleepwalked downstairs and fell into bed. Kennedy woke up at 4:30. It was a long night after that. She was up and down, screaming in my arms for the next three hours. I picked her up. I rocked her to sleep. We went back to bed. She woke up screaming. Repeat.
But guess what? The next night was better. Not good, but better. And the last two nights, Shulamith's little baby girl slept like a champ, the final night for nine hours straight!
And I was still alive. Yay!
The only sad moment while they were gone was early Saturday morning. On weekday mornings, Matt often gets up with Swen while Shulamith continues to sleep with Kennedy. He puts Swen in the rocking chair and gives him something to eat, turns on "Paw Patrol," and gets ready for work. So Saturday morning, I was doing these same things for Swen, when he looked up at me and said, "Da da is all gone."
"No!!!!" I told him. "Your Da da is not all gone. He went on the airplane with Mom and will be back very soon."
Both days they had been away, Shulamith had Skyped with Swen, so he had seen her and talked to her, but Matt had not been there at those times. Right then I texted Shulamith and suggested that, if possible, it might be a good idea for Matt to Skype with Swen.
They called almost immediately, and you should have seen Swen's little face light up when he saw his Da da! Both Shulamith and I, in different countries, simultaneously wiped a tear from our eye.
Post Story. They returned Sunday evening to their babies in a precious reunion. And Kennedy? The first night with Shulamith back was sketchy, but the last two nights she slept peacefully until past 8:00 a.m., and she's taking longer naps as well. Shulamith said I sleep-trained her. Haha, that's a bit ironic because the phrase "sleep-training" often (though not always) refers to the practice of letting babies "cry it out" alone in their rooms on a schedule of short time periods until they learn to "self soothe." This is a method I ardently disagree with, and I'd never, ever do it. So Shulamith said she will call me the "gentle sleep trainer" or "sleep whisperer."
Either way, I was happy to help and so glad she could go enjoy this time with Matt. You see, I totally owed her. Ten years ago, when she was just nineteen, Gerald and I went to Ecuador, and she stayed home with her three younger brothers, who were 14, 12, and 5 at the time. Then, five years ago, we went to Costa Rica (yep!), and she kept 10-year-old Seth for us. Both times, I remember thanking her and feeling so grateful, because she was really the only one I would have felt safe leaving them with. And I told her that one day, I would repay her.
Their trip was wonderful. From swimming in the ocean to lounging by the pool, from riding ATVs to zip-lining through the rain forest, they had a fabulous time. Here are some photos to prove it:
When you are going to war, pray twice.
But pray three times when you are about to take care of someone else's two small children for four days." (adapted from Russian proverb)
Back story. Through his work, Shulamith's husband Matt won a free, all expense paid trip for two to Costa Rica. It seemed unreal at first; when things seem too good to be true, it's usually because they are. Surely there must be some sort of catch. There wasn't. This trip to an all-inclusive resort in beautiful Costa Rica was absolutely, entirely, 100% free!
But could they really go? Could Shulamith leave her kids for that long? The discussion began. Shulamith doesn't ever leave her kids, even during the day, let alone for four night nights. She was terrified.
I advised her to go. When would such an opportunity come along again? Plus, the timing is perfect. She is between babies; she isn't pregnant, and she doesn't have a newborn.
Still, she hesitated. She generally doesn't share my anxiety disorder (fortunately), but she definitely experienced a taste of it. What if the babies died while she was gone? What if she and Matt died?
"No one is going to die," I reassured her.
In reality, Matt thought I would die. It's not that their kids are so hard to care for; it's their 20-month-old daughter's sleep issues, more precisely, her lack of sleep. Kennedy loves to nurse; most toddlers do if their moms let them, and she especially likes to nurse to sleep. Yeah, that would be a problem. I haven't nursed a baby in 12 years.
I knew I wouldn't die. I promised Shulamith, once again, that no one would die.
She decided to go. Hooray!
Story. They left in the middle of the night (literally). They had to be at the airport at 4:00 Thursday morning, so she texted me when they were ready to leave, and I sleepwalked downstairs and fell into bed. Kennedy woke up at 4:30. It was a long night after that. She was up and down, screaming in my arms for the next three hours. I picked her up. I rocked her to sleep. We went back to bed. She woke up screaming. Repeat.
But guess what? The next night was better. Not good, but better. And the last two nights, Shulamith's little baby girl slept like a champ, the final night for nine hours straight!
And I was still alive. Yay!
The only sad moment while they were gone was early Saturday morning. On weekday mornings, Matt often gets up with Swen while Shulamith continues to sleep with Kennedy. He puts Swen in the rocking chair and gives him something to eat, turns on "Paw Patrol," and gets ready for work. So Saturday morning, I was doing these same things for Swen, when he looked up at me and said, "Da da is all gone."
"No!!!!" I told him. "Your Da da is not all gone. He went on the airplane with Mom and will be back very soon."
Both days they had been away, Shulamith had Skyped with Swen, so he had seen her and talked to her, but Matt had not been there at those times. Right then I texted Shulamith and suggested that, if possible, it might be a good idea for Matt to Skype with Swen.
They called almost immediately, and you should have seen Swen's little face light up when he saw his Da da! Both Shulamith and I, in different countries, simultaneously wiped a tear from our eye.
Post Story. They returned Sunday evening to their babies in a precious reunion. And Kennedy? The first night with Shulamith back was sketchy, but the last two nights she slept peacefully until past 8:00 a.m., and she's taking longer naps as well. Shulamith said I sleep-trained her. Haha, that's a bit ironic because the phrase "sleep-training" often (though not always) refers to the practice of letting babies "cry it out" alone in their rooms on a schedule of short time periods until they learn to "self soothe." This is a method I ardently disagree with, and I'd never, ever do it. So Shulamith said she will call me the "gentle sleep trainer" or "sleep whisperer."
Either way, I was happy to help and so glad she could go enjoy this time with Matt. You see, I totally owed her. Ten years ago, when she was just nineteen, Gerald and I went to Ecuador, and she stayed home with her three younger brothers, who were 14, 12, and 5 at the time. Then, five years ago, we went to Costa Rica (yep!), and she kept 10-year-old Seth for us. Both times, I remember thanking her and feeling so grateful, because she was really the only one I would have felt safe leaving them with. And I told her that one day, I would repay her.
Their trip was wonderful. From swimming in the ocean to lounging by the pool, from riding ATVs to zip-lining through the rain forest, they had a fabulous time. Here are some photos to prove it:
Monday, March 7, 2016
Post #500: Can it really be that many?
Seven years ago, I began blogging. A friend once said, "You can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Mommy Blogger," and seven years ago I became one of the many. A lot has happened in those seven years, and much of it is documented right here in this blog. I am grateful. Grateful for the medium with which to tell our family's stories. Grateful for a place to give voice to my thoughts. And mostly, grateful to you, those who read and enjoy.
This is the 500th post.
Wow.
That is worth celebrating, I decided! When I began, I never dreamed so many people would want to read my essays. Really, I thought it would be just my kids (and probably not even all of them) and Gerald. Maybe my brother, occasionally? My two best friends? And that would be just fine because my goal was to do my part to preserve some family history. Plus, writing is therapeutic for me and far cheaper than a psychiatrist, so there's that.
But how to celebrate? I decided the best way was to look back and attempt to pick my favorite post of each of the seven years. Every year, I have my posts published into a hardback book, so I've been leafing through the many pages of those books, trying to chose my favorites. It's not easy. I will link each of my choices, in case any of you would care to reminisce along with me.
For 2009, I chose my Christmas post. It was last Erichsen-Webster Christmas before people started getting married, and I remember so fondly sitting in my living room the night after, so joyous, so content, so thankful for my sweet family.
For 2010, I chose an essay I wrote in my mind as we drove home from Salt Lake City after marrying off our only baby girl: Wasn't it just yesterday? I penned it the very next day as I remembered some of the earliest experiences of "The days of me and Shulamith."
For 2011, ah, okay it's a tie. I couldn't choose. Sorry. First is this post, "Wealth" because it highlights my sweet Isaiah and his understated yet strong character, and at this moment he is on the other side of the world (Australia), so very far away from me. And I miss him. But then there is this other one about Eli and leaving my baby at college, and, well, go ahead and read it if you want. And cry along with me.
For 2012, I chose two posts about Seth, our funny and fabulous 15-year-old, who, just the other day, was an equally funny and fabulous tween: Tweens and Planners are a Waste of Time and Space. I've said it so many times, but if you decide to have a "capstone" child, seven years after the others, be sure Heaven sends you one as amazing as Seth.
For 2013, I picked two again. Yes, this is becoming a habit. It's hard, though. There are so many. This one, because it still cracks me up everything I think about it (think Matt and Seth) and this one because it speaks my truth.
For 2014, so maybe three this time? I know, I know; this post is spinning right out control. But it's my blog and my 500th post, so whatever. I couldn't leave out my essay about bringing our missionary home after two years: You came home. You really came home. Or the one about our trip to Indiana to celebrate the first "doctor" in the family: Dr. Luke Erichsen. But then there's this other one which highlights the crazy, beautiful dysfunction that is our family.
And for 2015, we shall return to just two, Friends are friends forever and You might cry a little. Just because.
So there you have it. Post #500. Eli just came in and asked what I was doing. When I told him, he said, "That's a lot of writing!"
Indeed. A lot of writing. A lot of joy. A lot of memories. I may be one of the hundreds of "Mommy Bloggers," but my stories are all mine. And my family is all mine. I love them so very much.
This is the 500th post.
Wow.
That is worth celebrating, I decided! When I began, I never dreamed so many people would want to read my essays. Really, I thought it would be just my kids (and probably not even all of them) and Gerald. Maybe my brother, occasionally? My two best friends? And that would be just fine because my goal was to do my part to preserve some family history. Plus, writing is therapeutic for me and far cheaper than a psychiatrist, so there's that.
But how to celebrate? I decided the best way was to look back and attempt to pick my favorite post of each of the seven years. Every year, I have my posts published into a hardback book, so I've been leafing through the many pages of those books, trying to chose my favorites. It's not easy. I will link each of my choices, in case any of you would care to reminisce along with me.
For 2009, I chose my Christmas post. It was last Erichsen-Webster Christmas before people started getting married, and I remember so fondly sitting in my living room the night after, so joyous, so content, so thankful for my sweet family.
For 2010, I chose an essay I wrote in my mind as we drove home from Salt Lake City after marrying off our only baby girl: Wasn't it just yesterday? I penned it the very next day as I remembered some of the earliest experiences of "The days of me and Shulamith."
For 2011, ah, okay it's a tie. I couldn't choose. Sorry. First is this post, "Wealth" because it highlights my sweet Isaiah and his understated yet strong character, and at this moment he is on the other side of the world (Australia), so very far away from me. And I miss him. But then there is this other one about Eli and leaving my baby at college, and, well, go ahead and read it if you want. And cry along with me.
For 2012, I chose two posts about Seth, our funny and fabulous 15-year-old, who, just the other day, was an equally funny and fabulous tween: Tweens and Planners are a Waste of Time and Space. I've said it so many times, but if you decide to have a "capstone" child, seven years after the others, be sure Heaven sends you one as amazing as Seth.
For 2013, I picked two again. Yes, this is becoming a habit. It's hard, though. There are so many. This one, because it still cracks me up everything I think about it (think Matt and Seth) and this one because it speaks my truth.
For 2014, so maybe three this time? I know, I know; this post is spinning right out control. But it's my blog and my 500th post, so whatever. I couldn't leave out my essay about bringing our missionary home after two years: You came home. You really came home. Or the one about our trip to Indiana to celebrate the first "doctor" in the family: Dr. Luke Erichsen. But then there's this other one which highlights the crazy, beautiful dysfunction that is our family.
And for 2015, we shall return to just two, Friends are friends forever and You might cry a little. Just because.
So there you have it. Post #500. Eli just came in and asked what I was doing. When I told him, he said, "That's a lot of writing!"
Indeed. A lot of writing. A lot of joy. A lot of memories. I may be one of the hundreds of "Mommy Bloggers," but my stories are all mine. And my family is all mine. I love them so very much.
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Conflicted emotions: A tale of two brothers
Once upon a time was born a beautiful baby boy, welcomed with love by his parents and three siblings. He was a happy child, with a smile that melted hearts everywhere he went. After seven years as the baby of the family (a role he took quite seriously) something happened to rock his world. It was documented by his first grade journal entry, which began: "For seven years, I was the youngest in my family. Then my mom had a baby."
On a conscious level, the little boy was thrilled to welcome his new brother. He did all he could to help his mom care for the tiny babe and showered him with endless kisses and hugs. Subconsciously, though, he appeared to be a bit more conflicted. His behavior regressed more than a little, as he tried to win back the attention he felt he was losing. This was, of course, a perfectly normal response under the circumstances, and his parents did their best to love him right through it.
As time went by, these two boys, though separated seven years in age, grew to love each other with the unshakable bond only brothers fully understand. Through the years, they fought mercilessly over the dumbest things, including whose leg hair is longer (not even kidding) and whose Snap Chat is better, but in the end they were always each other's closest ally.
As life would have it, the older brother grew up and found the affection of a lovely young lady, and in good time, these two became engaged to be married. And just like that, it was now the younger brother, rather than the older, who struggled with the conflicted emotions. Karma? The law or divine reciprocity? You see, now the younger brother felt replaced, much the way the older brother felt once upon a time about 15 years ago.
This is evidenced in a myriad of ways, but allow the storyteller to share a dialog that occurred just last evening:
Mom: You will need to take three days off from school in April, when we go to Billings for the wedding reception.
Younger brother: Yes!! That's great! Where we will stay when we're there?
Mom: Well, you get to stay with Ethan (his very best friend, who lives in Billings).
Younger brother: Yes!! That's perfect. Where is everyone else staying?
Mom: Well, Dad and I are staying with the Careys, and Eli and Amanda are staying in a hotel.
Younger brother: Amanda?!?! Why is she going? Does she have to go everywhere Eli goes?
Well, no, not everywhere. But it would probably be good if she showed up for her own wedding reception!
So, dear readers, the end of this tale is yet to be written. The hope of this mom is that in time, these two brothers will work out a relationship that is acceptable to both with no conflict. And that the younger brother will come to know that marriage is much more a gain than it is a loss. Because one day, it will be his turn.
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