When Prayer Works

I know prayer works. I have seen it, and felt it's power touch my life time and time again through the years.

But I have had a problem: convincing Sheriff that God answers his prayers. It started when Sheriff was younger and he lost a game that was very precious to him. To an adult a lost game probably doesn't sound too important, but to a child ... the loss of a favorite item is heart-breaking. He turned to God and prayed for help to find it. He didn't just pray once, he prayed for several days. I confess that I prayed too - that my son might find this game and know as I do that prayers are answered. This might sound trivial to some, but for my son it was important.

He never found it.

Fast forward a few years and Sheriff saved up to buy an iPad. He was so excited to have his own iPad (not brand new of course - but new to him.) But while on a trip out of town he lost it (possibly during the rush of getting off of a flight and packing belongings up). We tried to track it, tried to contact lost and found, tried everything we could think of. We even search my parents' home in case the iPad made it as far as their home. But nothing. So Sheriff again turned to prayer - maybe whoever found would return it - show some integrity. He prayed and prayed for weeks.

He never got it back.

Fast forward a few months when he saved again- this time to buy an iPod touch. On a trip to Lake Powell it went missing. (I know...you are probably thinking that at this point Sheriff should keep better track of his stuff... remember... ADD -Attention Deficit Disorder.) Again he turned to prayer with the same results. No help. This was back in the summer.

On Sunday night Sheriff said to me, "Heavenly Father doesn't answer my prayers." I had been dreading to hear this from my son for I feared that this was exactly what he was learning from his experiences (instead of - learn how to better keep track of your stuff.) It broke my heart.

Imagine how I felt when I received a call from Brett's mom Monday morning saying that Sheriff's iPod had been found! It had fallen behind the couch on the houseboat. They had moved the couch and lo and behold ... the iPod was there. They surprised him with the found iPod during his birthday dinner.

I am so grateful for grandparents who listen to promptings for they have shown my son that although not every prayer is answered, some are.

Putting my Audience to Sleep

My sister asked me recently when I became funny. I told her that I have always been funny but she has only recently come to appreciate my sense of humor. But really, I don't know if it because as I am aging I'm loosening up a little, or as she is aging her humor is expanding from just looking for opportunities to publicly humiliate me and laughing AT me, to listening to me and laughing WITH me.

That being said, I learned last night that I have a long way to go in learning how to capture the attention of an audience. At the end of every day Brett and I talk in bed about various things. I was relating to him what I thought was a particularly funny event that occurred on our local radio station when a listener texted in and wrote to one of the hosts, "You are the duh. The hosts were laughing about the text and the context. But, being the end of the day, I could feel my brain shutting down and what should have been a short story became much longer as the neural pathways in my brain rerouted again and again. Young people will have no idea what I'm talking about but if you have ever forgotten a word you know what I mean. And late last night ... well ... it happened several times.

Finally, I made it to the end of the story - and to the punch line, "You are the duh". Nothing. No laughter. No comment. Just silence in the room and the wind whistling outside. That was when I realized that my husband was asleep. Fast asleep. And for how long? Through the whole thing. All of that storytelling had been wasted!

A good slap on the arm roused him. I know. I'm mean that way. I mean - why didn't I just roll over and let him sleep? Because he HAD to know that he fell asleep while I was talking to him! (And because as a life-long insomniac I think it unfair that any human being should be able to fall asleep within 10 seconds of their head hitting the pillow.) Of course he woke up disoriented and had NO IDEA what I had even said.

But because he fell asleep while I was talking I say Brett, "You are the duh." If only he had stayed awake he would be laughing right now.

Another Great Family Night

It was Sheriff's turn to choose our Family Home Evening game and as usual he chose a version of Apples to Apples (we have 3 different versions). His brothers groaned when he brought it out, but we always have fun playing the game.



At the end of the game the cards that you won are supposed to describe you as a person.



Wannabe was in charge of the treat and chose a recipe from one of our Friend magazines. It was a hit with everyone.


Chocolate-dipped Bananas

3 bananas
1 cup chocolate chips
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
craft sticks

1. Peel the bananas and cut them in half across the middle.
2. Push the sticks into the cut end of each banana half.
3. Line a cookie sheet with wax paper or parchment paper and lay bananas on top. Freeze bananas for 30 minutes.
4. Mix the chocolate chips and the vegetable oil in glass bowl. Microwave the chocolate for 30 seconds at 50% power and stir. Continue microwaving for 30 seconds at 50% power until chocolate is melted.
5. Using a spoon pour the chocolate over the bananas until covered and place back on the cookie sheet that is lined with parchment paper or wax paper. Freeze for another 30 minutes. Enjoy!

Teen Torment Part Two

"You are the cause of most of my stress!" my thirteen year old accused me today.

My jaw dropped in surprise. I mean I create a lot of my own stress, but really? To be accused of creating my childrens' stress? That was rich in irony. Especially considering the context.

Sheriff came home from school saying that his book project is due on Wednesday. Firstly, he had told me that there would be no project for the current book he is reading. Secondly, he had failed to read the 10 pages in the morning and 10 pages at night as I had suggested so that he would be finished the book by the beginning of January. When I asked him where he was at in the book he told me - page 110. I could swear that was the same page he was at over two weeks ago. With 284 pages in the book a Wednesday due date to finish the book plus a project, things are not looking good in terms of spare time.

When he had the gall to ask to play video games I said no and told him to go read. I know. Even the tears didn't phase me. But when he told me I was the cause of most of his stress after I had given him a steady way to finish the book on time... well... I made him apologize - and read.

And read.

I know my son thinks I am torturing him. But perhaps one day he will thank me for teaching him how to be better prepared, how to be responsible, and most of all how much I really, truly, actually do love him.

Teen Torment

Let me preface this post by saying I love my 13 year old. But he is thirteen and I am learning that my rule-following eldest son is stretching his wings into the realm of doing the opposite of what I want him to do.

Nothing extreme, mind you. He tested out this newly acquired teenage skill on our recent family vacation as he photo bombed several pictures.






As photo bombing was not quite satisfying he also included in his photo ruining repertoire silly faces and props.

On the rides at Disneyland...



With a fanny pack...



Out to dinner...


Even with an ice-cream cone... (a partial "dinosaur hands" pose... if you are confused you just have to see my kids run and you will understand.)



I would like to say that I have NO idea where he gets it from but apple does not fall far from the tree.

I'm No Saint

I think that doing Saturday Jobs with my kids would try the patience of a saint. And let me confess now - I am no saint. Although my older boys have no problem with quickly doing their jobs even before I am up out of bed on a Saturday morning, my younger boys seem to think that it is the day to drive each other crazy (and thus by default drive their parents nuts too).

Brett usually takes the boys with him when he runs errands on Saturdays but for whatever reason (preserving his own sanity) he switched his day around today and left for the store this morning. After only two days of the kids going off-track I am already ready to sign them up for a different track just to get them back into school. Are you allowed to do that? Actually, I exaggerate.

But there are moments in the day when it feels that way, such as on a Saturday when I just can't get Giggles to be quiet for two seconds. In all honesty I don't really expect it of him (I dream of it - but don't expect it). Children with ADHD have a hard time being quiet; when Giggles has an unpleasant task such as cleaning he rambles on even more to keep himself going. For example, this is what I witnessed Giggles say and do as he talked to himself in just the last three minutes of his Saturday jobs:


"It doesn’t fit. O.k. let’s see here. Let’s scream like little babies.. let’s just get 16 bags - of candies.
I just wasted a bag. Is this a bag or is it full of meat? I just ate a bag – I just ate a bag of candy. I just ate a bag. I just ate a bag."

(swinging an empty bag around through the house)

"Ducky, ducky, ducky, ducky, ducky, ducky, ducky, ducky, ducky."

"Last one, last thing.

(Running out the door to the garage carrying a full garbage bag.)

"All’s I need to do is put the other things in the black garbage – plus the other one."

"I just made it worse. Fine. Now the upstairs. (swinging an empty garbage bag)

"Spiderman. Spiderman. Superman. Spiderman. Spiderman. Oooooooooooo. Here’s the garbage." (swinging the full garbage that hits the wall) Whoa! Skinnyman. This is a skinny one. (referring to the garbage) Slenderman."


Now imagine listening to this for an hour as well as teasing his younger brother. I finally resorted to listening to music on my iPod. As I said... I'm no saint. I love my kids but take me away Imagine Dragons!

Gotcha!

I have started my Grammar and Style class and one of my many homework assignments required me to sit and observe an individual for ten minutes then write about it. There was no question who my victim was going to be... Giggles during morning reading time. If you have ever had the opportunity to see this kid in action in the morning you will know why I chose him. Right April?

As I sat down at the table across from Giggles and began writing down his actions and words I realized the enormity of my task. I could not keep up with my son. The small snapshot you see below is a limited view of what actually took place. To say that this is a typical morning would be an untrue statement. This reflects a general pattern of behavior - an inability to focus, strange sounds, many stops and starts, lots of questions and a general irritability in the morning. (Usually the morning is much worse.)

Giggles sat down at the down at the kitchen table smacking his book report book on the table’s surface in protest. He opened the book, looked at the cover and said in an angry tone, “Really mom? Now I have food in my book.” Receiving no reply from me he tried again. “Mom, I have food in my book. Mom, you’re not listening. I have food in my book.” He scratched at the offending food.

“I am listening but your job is to read and I have my own job to do,” I replied busily writing down his actions.

“But I have food in my book,” he insisted.

“Focus on your job,” I asked.

He gave up talking to me and shook his head back and forth making a moaning sound. Giggles laughed and speaking to no one in particular said, “That’s awesome!” in a silly voice. After Brett also reminded him to focus he turned his attention to the book and began to read.

He laughed and slapped his cheek while reading the book. Then pausing for a moment asked me a question about whether he should do the seven habits assignment for his report while reading. He returned to his book and read a few moments more. This did not last long when he discovered a wet spot.

“Mom, my book’s wet.” When I did not reply he mumbled, “You don’t really care.”

To this I responded, “Giggles, I’m busy doing my job. You should be doing your job.”

Giggles sneezed. He wiggled on his chair and let out a moan. With his jaw thrust forward, he began reading again in a silly voice. He sounded out a word and said, “I have to know what every word in this book means.” Losing his spot in the book, he asked, “Where am I?” With a hand on his forehead, he began rubbing his right eye. “Mom, what is this word? I think it is relying?”

“If you are unsure of the word then just move on. I am doing my work right now.”

Giggles peered over to see what I was working on. I covered it up. “That is not very much writing,” he observed.

“You have your work to do and I have mine,” I reminded him.

He repeated the word relying several times, a word he felt unsure of, and then said, “Relying, it’s lying to me.”
Giggles found his spot again. After rubbing his eye several times he now looked like a squinting pirate. With one hand squeezing the bridge of his nose and the other hand shaking the book on the table he again began to read a few more words. But his hand rose off the book and smacked his head a few times while he exclaimed he was too tired to read. Then he laughed declaring, “I’m going to win!”

He rocked his body back and forth like a pendulum causing his chair to shift away from the table again and again. I got up from the table finally and pushed his chair back into its former position.

“See?” he said. “I got your attention.”