FHE idea

I don’t know about you but I have a difficult time doing a lesson for little kids for Family Home Evening. My kids are difficult to entertain, but I found an idea online that sounded fun, tried it out tonight, and it was a success!


Here it is if you want to use it!

Beforehand, do some research for pictures. Find clipart pictures or regular pics of showing love (such as cleaning the house, picking up toys, giving hugs, etc) and pictures that don’t show love (pushing, whining, making bad messes, etc). Cut them out. You will also need a poster of some sort (I just used an 11x14 poster board, and either glue sticks and/or tape.

THE LESSON:

Start off by singing “Love at Home”. Explain what “Love at Home” means and discuss ways we can show love. Then, show pictures of Jesus performing different acts of love, and explain how by showing love at home, we are being like Jesus.

Have your family take turns drawing the pictures you cut out from a bag, and have them decide if it shows love at home or not. If it does, have them glue it on to the “Love at Home” poster. Grayson had a ton of fun looking at the pictures and telling me all about them, and he got all of them right too! (I’m a proud mama!) And although Jaye can’t talk, she still (with help) managed the glue stick well and had fun putting them on the poster.

When we were through, I had them point to different pictures and tell me what about it was showing Love. Then I asked them to try and remember to show love at home, and had them hang it on the fridge.



*SIMPLE!* And now if they are bad, I can take them to the poster and talk about it with a visual! YAY!



If any of you mothers of young children have FHE ideas, PLEASE share them with me! I’m still a work in progress!

Dialogue

Scene: Grayson is sitting on Mommy's lap. Mommy is relaxing and wearing a hoodie.

GRAYSON: Mommy, is there a baby in your tummy?
ME: Yes, there is!
GRAYSON: (lifting up my shirt) where is it?
ME: In my tummy.
GRAYSON: (still investigating) Is it hiding? Is it in your pocket? (He shoves his hand all the way through my pocket until his hand is poking out of the other side and gives me a concerned look) Where is it?
ME: You won't get to see it for a loooong time.
GRAYSON: (thinks about it for a while) Is there a baby in my tummy?
ME: No
GRAYSON: Why?
ME: Because boys can't have babies, only mommies can
GRAYSON: Why?
ME: Because that's how Heavenly Father made us

loooong pause.

GRAYSON: I think my tummy is a boy.



I can already tell I'm going to be HORRIBLE at giving "the talk".

I can't think of a good title :S

     In December, we had Grayson’s speech tested. As a therapist once told us, this kid is unnaturally gifted cognitively (we’re pretty sure he is going to be a sporting legend), but it was really difficult to understand him. He failed the speech test, which sounds like it should be bad but it is a huge blessing! He got into this amazing free preschool that offers weekly speech therapy. When I was registering him in December, I had to sit and talk with his soon-to-be teacher and tell her my concerns and describe my child. I told her I was worried that he was very hyper and had a difficult time focusing. The teacher set a written goal that by the end of the year, Grayson would be able to focus at least 70% of the time in class.



    Parent-Teacher conference was a few days ago. I sat down with his teacher and she pulled out her goal sheet and literally laughed at me. She informed me that not only was Grayson the best behaved child in her class, but he was a role model to the other kids, and she had no idea why I was concerned! I thought she was joking!


     Well now I’m just plain jealous. Why can’t he be the best behaved kid at home? There are no well-behaved role models in this household! Sometimes, motherhood just isn’t fair.






On a side note:


     Usually, I take a shower while Barry is available to watch the kids, but yesterday I was in dire need of a shower and Barry was sleeping (for night shift). I chanced taking a shower by getting the kids set up with a movie. When I was finished and opened the door, Jaye was waiting for me with a huge grin. I noticed that her face was unusually glisten-y, and her hair was sticking straight up with some kind of weird goo. Upon investigation, I discovered half a stick of butter was missing from the table. BUTTER!!!


What could have possibly run through her mind, to inspire her to open the butter dish and put that nasty junk in her hair!?!?


The world will never know.

of course....

Ever since we were married, our bedspread has been this hideous, ugly, plaid, bed-in-a-bag thing that has been puked and peed on (by the children, not us!) and has been looking pretty worn out. So I decided to fork out close to 100 buckaroos that I saved for this bedspread I fell in love with at Walmart. That is a WHOOOOOLE lot of money for something so frivolous but it was GREEN (my favorite color!) and Barry liked it too! So it has been on our bed for a few months now, and I have been a total nazi about keeping it clean. Everyone has to have a towel or blanket over their lap if they eat something, and the children are not allowed (if I catch them in time) to have any kind of food item on my bed.

So today, I needed to get a piece of gum out of the diaper bag to help ease my queasiness and I put the bag on the bedspread. And then I got ready. And then I picked up the diaper bag. And guess what was in that blasted bag? A bottle of PURPLE cough medicine I threw in  for Jaye, and the lid was just barely unscrewed... and viola! The bedspread nazi, of course, was the one to cause the first huge PURPLE spill on the blanket.

It cost us FOUR dollars just to wash it at the laundromat! FOUR DOLLARS!!! And TWO more to dry it! How about you take my house and children for payment too! SHEESH! But on the upside... at least my bedspread won't be coughing anytime soon.

Interesting version...

Grayson wanted to "read" a book to Jaye. She picked out "Goodnight Moon" and the story went a little something like this.

Goodnight moon.
Goodnight red balloon.
Goodnight mittens.
Goodnight kittens.
...And the bunny jumped out of bed. And he jumped on the nightstand and onto the floor. And then his mommy got mad and she came in and spanked him because he tried to get out of his room.
The end.

Shows you how traumatic bedtime is at our house.

Wish me luck!

Wow, I just hit 150 blog posts. For some reason, that seems pretty awesome to me, and a good number to start off the new year!

I've been thinking a lot about what New Year Resolutions to set for myself. Literally, I have been wracking my brain because there are so many things I want to accomplish. Last Sunday, a friend of mine gave a talk in church about New year resolutions and it really hit me that I need to choose ones that are the most important, and I'm not talking about those 30 pounds I will desperately want to drop in nine months! So I finally narrowed it down to one thing.

Be a Better Mom.

That's my new mission statement. This one sort of embodies everything I want to improve on. Spending quality time with my kids, getting the laundry done (and folded and BACK in the drawers) before our dirty clothes eat our hallway, cooking good meals, showing more love to my husband, working on becoming more spiritual, etc.

 That is the most important thing I need to change. Especially now that I'm pregnant and my angry fuse is only a few millimeters in length and my laziness level is neverending.

I also have a tiny goal of writing more on the blog, I used to write a blog almost every day, so I want to start up again. Maybe I can use my REAL resolution as blogging inspiration.

Well folks, what are your resolutions?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Once Again...

    So here it is folks: I'm pregnant. Again. And yes, it was planned. I had this ridiculous assumption that the third time around would be a breeze. I guess, mastering the art of puking directly into the garbage could be considered a step up. And after hearing stories of other women's obnoxious cravings for fruit and veggies, I believed that this would be my fate. But once again, the only thing that can quell my nausea is fast food. So far: cheese burgers. And hot dogs. I'm not gonna make it out of this next year under 30 extra pounds, I can already tell. What's the most depressing out of my entire ordeal? I was pregnant the last time my driver's license photo was taken and my face was "retaining water". (That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it!) I finally lost all that darned baby weight and was excited about how I looked, and guess what? I glanced at my driver's license today and it expires when I'm about 8 months pregnant! That's seven more months of cheese burgers and hot dogs! I don't think the photo will be much of an improvement from last time.

   I bet most of you are saying, "she shouldn't be whining, she is receiving a precious blessing!"

   In response I say, "It's my blog, I can say what I want!" but also, let me illuminate my sitiuation. I have two kids now, so the days of wallowing in miserable peace are gone. I have to be a mommy! Yesterday, I was trying to steal a few minutes of rest on the couch to settle my stomach, when suddenly my one year old dive bombs onto my head and starts pulling my hair and laughing maniacally, and my son hands me the end of a jump rope and starts yelling, "Pull me! Pull me!" So I start dragging him across the floor, while my daughter continues her attack. As Grayson reaches the carpet, I look at him and say, "Grayson I shouldn't pull you on the carpet, the rope might break." After the announcement, my focus drifts to the daughter trying to rip my hair out and I forget I am still pulling on the rope then WHACK!

... The handle of the jump rope pops off in the full force of pulling, my hand snaps back and I stab myself in the neck with a piece of dollar tree plastic. It hurt. Bad.

    Sitting there in utter pain, I couldn't help but think: I want three of these things?!?!

   Not wanting to scream at my kids for my self-mutilation, I spoke through clenched teeth, "Grayson, pick up those toys." (Pointing to the never-ending mess on the living room floor.) Without question he did his duty, ran back to me, looked me in the eyes and said, "Are you happy now, Mommy?"

    I'm not happy. I'm miserable. But seeing that sweet concerned look on my horribly obnoxious three year old made me realize, yes. I do want three of these things.