Warren Stories

I just gave Warren a kiss on the ear as he lay in bed. He said, "You probably don't want to kiss my ear because my earwax tastes bad." "I bet it does; how do you know it tastes bad?" I queried. The earnestly spoken reply came, "Because I tried some once with a booger and it tasted awful."

On Friday after school Warren and I were talking, and he said, "S0-and-so said I was weird and then So-and-so-2 said I was a Fruit Loop." He was clearly offended. We talked for a while and it was a really good conversation. A few points we covered:

• When we believe the unkind things people say, we are unhappy. We don't have to believe what people say, especially if we know ourselves to be different.
• Sometimes someone else's bad behavior makes us think we can excuse our own bad behavior. I pointed out to Warren I was grateful he didn't return the unkind words.
• The "unkind" labels we are given can be helpful. For example, Warren was saying "Goo-goo gah-gah" repeatedly when this episode took place. By his own admission, that is a little strange to be doing to another big kid at school, but would be appropriate to say to his baby sister.
• We role-played cheery responses he could give if this happened again, like if someone calls him weird, "Thanks, you should try it some time!" He laughed at the silly things I came up with.
  

When my kids come to me with the "wrongs" others have done them, I try to let my first response be, "Have you forgiven them yet?" I hope that they will internalize the idea that forgiveness will bring them the comfort and healing they seek. We ended talking about Jesus and how people perceived him. I pointed out that when we return unkindness with kindness, we get the chance to be more like Jesus. (Still I was a little sad for Warren, because he is not quite your normal 6 year old and that might cause some bumps in his road. And I was extra glad that I had made really yummy cookies for snack that day.)

Warren is so into paper airplanes right now. Last week with his own money he bought a ream of paper to support this habit. He brings them home from school by the dozens. We have checked out 3 library books about them. On Friday afternoon, while the girls napped, he and I had a lesson in aerodynamics from one of the books and I loved watching Warren reason in his mind about the point to which the book was leading. As we studied the shape of wings--flat on bottom, curved on top--and read that the air traveling over and under them reaches the back of the wing at the same time, he was able to deduce that the air traveling over the wing had a further distance to go than the air traveling under the wing, and thus, must be moving faster. Then we learned that this creates greater sideways pressure under the wing, i.e. more lift. We folded a new paper airplane and he got so excited when he realized that the shape of it's wings functioned according to this principle. I am really grateful for the education I am gaining as a mother.

In the primary program today, Warren recited Matthew 16:19: I will give unto the the keys of the kingdom; that whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shalt be bound on heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
I was grateful for the opportunity memorizing this scripture gave us to talk about how our family is sealed for eternity because that sealing power to "bind in heaven" is on earth again, and availbale to all who are sealed in the temple, God's house. I also loved how he pronounced "loose" as "lose" and "loosed" as "loozed."

Speaking of "loozed," Warren "loozed" another tooth this week. He asked me with a big grin on his face, "Mom, does the tooth fairy really come and put money under my pillow, or is it you?" I said it was me. He followed up with, "Is it really you putting toys in my stocking, or does Santa?" I told him we could talk about that in his room, so we went in alone and I told him it was me. He was delighted to think that I was the one who put all those toys there. The cute thing is, I think he still believes in Santa, just acknowledges that I give him the toys, because he said, wide-eyed, "Some of the kids at my school don't believe there is a Santa." (Last time Warren lost a tooth, we were in Washington, and the tooth got lost before he could get it under his pillow. Warren wrote the saddest little note informing the tooth fairy: "I lost my tuth. Can I stil hav my dolr pleez?" (I lost my tooth. Can I still have my dollar please?)

I know I've made a lot of mistakes with Warren, especially because he spoke so well at such a young age. I often thought--and think--that he could/can do things far beyond his stage of development. Like chores. I expected him to do so many things on his own, efficiently and correctly, at a very young age. Now I'm starting over and having him empty the house recycling bin every day. It has been successful so far, with no tension between us. The more I learn to take Warren at his pace, the more I enjoy him and the more he opens his mind to me.

The Same Sociality

"We do not need a catastrophic event to remind us how fluid we are, how strong and fascinating.

We need merely look in the mirror....and seize every opportunity we can."

I read these words on my friend Meg's blog tonight. I was moved by their beauty. They are especially poignant in light of my evening, spent gathered with my extended family at my parent's home for dinner and visiting. It was a loud, boisterous gathering, full with people I hadn't seen for years, for months, for weeks and some that I see everyday. There are still more coming tomorrow. The reason? Grandpa's funeral. This is probably the closest thing to a Lewis Family Reunion we've had for 15 years. And it was beautiful. People hugging, laughing, crying, chasing kids, practicing songs, filling bags of seeds, conversing over food, jumping on the trampoline, sharing stories and memories, being re-introduced, pointing out who belonged to whom, connecting. Really connecting. Noticeably absent were people's cell phones. I don't think I saw a text get sent, and only one person talking on his cell phone (and that is because he has an out of state girlfriend :) I sat at a table, observing the richness of life swirling around me, reveling in the normalcy of it all, smiling at the pleasure of watching unique interactions light up all around me, then shift, like one of those splash pad fountains where the water keeps coming up from the ground at unexpected places, but always bubbling up with joy. I was impressed that the reason we had all these connections, was because all of our common, yet individual, connection to Grandpa. It was astounding, the variety of people he brought together, the way he united all us disparate souls under the banner of family.
Still, I know he struggled. He didn't see himself as some great success. Just last September, when he first started dialysis he wrote this in a letter to his children:

"Every thing was okay until I came out of the anesthetic. I had a bad case of: Poor me’s I was thinking what a failure I have been, I have been a quitter all my life, always looking for the easier way. I’ve screwed up three marriages, I haven’t made a fortune to leave my kids, I did not finish college, I did not go on a mission as a young man, I did not seek higher employment. So many things I could have done better."

But then, after a few paragraphs, he ends as follows:

"My patriarchal blessing says that I would have good health until my mission on earth was finished and I’m not sure what my mission is or was. I do know that I am the father of seven fantastic kids. It pleasures me more to see what type of parents you all are after the poor example I was to you. In every letter your grandma Lewis sent me, she always bore testimony of God and Jesus Christ and it bugged me until I got my own testimony of them. In earthly things I don’t have much, but the knowledge I have that we are God’s kids and that we will remain an eternal family."

If Grandpa saw us all gathered tonight, then I know he must be happy. If he gets to see all those gathered tomorrow for his funeral, I know he will be happy, seeing all of "God's kids" that He loved as "God's kids." I once asked him, "How do you love all these people, especially when some of them have done really awful things?" He shared a short parable of sorts, then summed it up, "If you love me, love my kids."

If you love God, you will love His children. We will see God in the face of every person we encounter. And because we have seen his face before, we will recognize it when He comes again. This belief was at the heart of Grandpa's testimony.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?

When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

Or when saw we thee ^asick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have ^adone it unto one of the ^bleast of these my ^cbrethren, ye have done it unto me.
Matt. 25:37-40

When the Savior shall ^aappear we shall see him as he is. We shall see that he is a ^bman like ourselves.

And that same ^asociality which exists among us here will exist among us there, only it will be coupled with ^beternal glory, which glory we do not now enjoy.

Doctrine and Covenants 130:1-2

Where is Heaven is it very far? I would like to know if it's beyond the brightest star? I've a feeling that it's not so far: when you're with the ones you love, it's right where you are.

(Primary Children's songbook, "Where is Heaven?")

Reconnecting

On Thursday I had my hair curly since I had slept on it wet. One of my students asked me, "Did you just wake up?" "No," I replied. "Well, did you comb your hair today?" I tried to show my hair here so you could be the judge, but you can't really see how funky my hair is.
I've decided I can't just keep adding to my "to-read" list on Goodreads; that I need to start reading some of them. So to this end, I downloaded "My Life in France" on Andy's Kindle last night. It's delightful to read about Paris in the late 1940's, and how similar it often seems to my Paris of 2008.
Also last night, I pulled out my old Chopin Etudes Urtext--thanks mom and dad for the expensive collection of piano books I own--and started learning one that my junior high piano teacher assigned me but I never learned because I didn't think I could. It's in Gb, but I'm a lot better with key signatures now, and have lot more practice techniques under my belt. It was fun to "practice" again.
Today I looked up some old music theory text to figure out how to use a modulation that I used incorrectly playing for a choir today. It felt nice to look something up and re-learn it.
Two things that used to make up such a huge part of my self-defined identity--reading and piano. It's like coming home to myself. I wouldn't say I've missed them, as I am quite happy with my current season of life, so maybe it is more like reconnecting with an old friend (Which, by the way, I did on Friday).

Big Dreams

All last weekend, Warren wanted to put on a parade. So when the Labor Day BBQ rolled around at my aunt's, we pulled out our costume bin and my kids dressed up as what they want to be when they grow up. Abigail was a princess, Avery was a baby-toting Tinker Bell and Warren was an Artist/Cleaner. (Grandma Lindy is an artist) He wanted to be Man vs. Wild, like Cooper (see the boy with the giant bear on his shoulders and the backpack), but I told him he had to be something different. I guess he is also demonstrating that he may not make a lot of money since he chose to not wear shoes. Ouch.
Sometimes Abigail says "I don't want to be a mom," mainly because she has heard that it can hurt to give birth. I remember when I was in first grade dressing up on career day as a "Mom." I wore an apron. I hope some day all my kids realize the greatest job on earth is to be a mom or dad. Our parade only lasted a minute, but I realized it doesn't have to be a huge production to make my kids happy--or me, either.

*that said, the 3rd Annual Thanksgiving Parade is coming up the afternoon before Thanksgiving, so get ready! It is a little bigger than this one!

Excitement Personified

"He looks totally excited--and that's just the back of him!" --Andy
This was Warren about a month ago, headed in to his first day of First Grade in the Big Kids Class. (And yes, I really think all those terms are proper nouns)
A quick story about Warren and Abigail, told here for illustrative purposes:

Today was Abigail's first day of pre-school. 20 minutes before we were to leave for school she came to Andy, already dressed to the shoes--in the clothes she set out the night before--with a flower in her hair, and asked, "When is mom taking me to school?"
"In about 20 minutes," Andy replied.
"Ooh! I better go brush my teeth!"
A few seconds later, Warren--still in his pajamas--asks Andy, "Dad, can I have my 20 minutes of video game time now?"
Andy replied, "Warren, you're still in your pajamas."
Warren countered, "But if I were ready could I have it?"
"Yeah, if you were ready and there was lots of time left, you could have video game time."

At which point, Warren proceeded to sit on the ground and play with a piece of paper he found for 8 minutes. (And then he told me on the drive to school that he didn't get a chance to brush his teeth.)