Children by Boyd K. Packer

I really love this talk and I think the quote that stuck out to me the most was:
"Children are the past, the present, and the future all blended into one. They are consummately precious. Every time a child is born, the world is renewed in innocence."

Somes I lose sight of the precious innocence of children and of how they are sent to change the world. We try so hard to teach them when infact we should be letting them teach us of the beauty and innocence of the world. I need to learn to be more like the little children and learn to see the world the way they see it. 

Children- Boyd K. Packer

Many years ago in Cuzco, high in the Andes Mountains of Peru, Elder A. Theodore Tuttle and I held a sacrament meeting in a long, narrow room with a door that opened onto the street. It was night and it was very cold.

While Elder Tuttle spoke, a little boy, perhaps six years old, appeared in the doorway. He was naked except for a ragged shirt that went about to his knees.

On our left was a small table with a plate of bread for the sacrament. This ragged street orphan saw the bread and inched slowly along the wall toward it. He was almost to the table when a woman on the aisle saw him. With a stern toss of her head, she banished him out into the night. I groaned within myself.

Later the boy returned. He crept along the wall, glancing from the bread to me. He was near the point where the woman would see him again. I held out my arms, and he came running to me. I held him on my lap.

Then, as something symbolic, I set him in Elder Tuttle’s chair. After the closing prayer, much to my sorrow, he darted out into the night.

When I returned home, I told President Spencer W. Kimball about him. He was deeply moved and spoke of it in a conference talk. He told others of it and said to me more than once, “That experience has far greater meaning than you have yet come to know.”

I have never forgotten that little street orphan. Many times in South America I have looked for him in the faces of the people. When he comes back into my mind, others come with him.

After World War II on a cold night in a train station in southern Japan, I heard a tap on the train window. There stood a boy wearing the same ragged shirt, a rag tied about a swollen jaw, his head covered with scabies. He held a rusty tin can and a spoon, the symbol of an orphan beggar. As I struggled to open the door to give him money, the train pulled out. I will never forget that hungry little boy standing in the cold, holding up his empty tin can.

There was a sick little first grader in a hospital at a government Indian school with a fever and running nose. I opened a package from his mother, hundreds of miles away on the reservation. Wrapped in a cardboard box with an auto parts label, which no doubt she got from the trading post, were some Navajo fry bread and pieces of mutton—a Christmas present for her little boy.

On the news recently, I saw that long, familiar line of refugees. With them, as usual, were the children carrying children. One child was perched atop a massive bundle carried by her mother. As they pushed slowly and silently by, she looked into the camera. That sober little black face and those big black eyes seemed to ask, “Why?”

Children are the past, the present, and the future all blended into one. They are consummately precious. Every time a child is born, the world is renewed in innocence.

I constantly think about and pray for the children and youth and their parents.

Recently, I attended a sacrament meeting given by children with special needs. Each was disabled in hearing or sight or mental development. Beside each was a teenager assigned as a companion. They sang and played music for us. Facing us on the front row was a young girl who stood and signed to those behind us who could not hear.

Jenny gave a brief testimony. Then her parents each spoke. They told of the utter agony they had known when they learned that their child would never have a normal life. They told of the endless, everyday trials that followed. When others would stare or laugh, Jenny’s brothers put an arm protectively around her. The mother then told us of the love and absolute joy Jenny brought to the family.

Those parents have learned that “after much tribulation, … cometh the blessing” (D&C 103:12). I saw them bound together by adversity and refined into pure gold—true Latter-day Saints.

They told us Jenny adopts fathers. So when I shook hands with her, I said, “I’m a grandpa.”

She looked up at me and said, “Well, I can see why!”

There is nothing in the scriptures, there is nothing in what we publish, there is nothing in what we believe or teach that gives license to parents or anyone else to neglect or abuse or molest our own or anyone else’schildren.

There is in the scriptures, there is in what we publish, there is in what we believe, there is in what we teach, counsel, commandments, even warnings that we are to protect, to love, to care for, and to “teach [children] to walk in the ways of truth” (Mosiah 4:15). To betray them is utterly unthinkable.

Among the strongest warnings and the severest penalties in the revelations are those relating to little children. Jesus said, “But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea” (Matt. 18:6).

In the days of the prophet Mormon, some who did not understand that little children are “blameless before God” (Mosiah 3:21) and are “alive in Christ” (Moro. 8:12) wanted to baptize little children. Mormon said they “[denied] the mercies of Christ, and [set] at naught the atonement of him and the power of his redemption” (Moro. 8:20).

Mormon sternly rebuked them, saying: “He that supposeth that littlechildren need baptism is in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity; for he hath neither faith, hope, nor charity; wherefore, should he be cut off while in the thought, he must go down to hell. …

“Behold, I speak with boldness, having authority from God” (Moro. 8:14, 16).

Only when a child reaches that age of accountability, set by the Lord at eight years of age (see D&C 68:27), is their baptism essential. Before that age, they are innocent.

Children should not be ignored or neglected. They absolutely must not be abused or molested. Children must not be abandoned or estranged by divorce. Parents are responsible to provide for their children.

The Lord said, “All children have claim upon their parents for their maintenance until they are of age” (D&C 83:4).

We are to look after their physical, their spiritual, and their emotional needs. The Book of Mormon teaches, “Ye will not suffer your children that they go hungry, or naked; neither will ye suffer that they transgress the laws of God, and fight and quarrel one with another, and serve the devil, who is the master of sin, or who is the evil spirit which hath been spoken of by our fathers, he being an enemy to all righteousness” (Mosiah 4:14).

Nothing compares with a father who is responsible and in turn teaches hischildren responsibility. Nothing compares with a mother who is present with them to comfort them and give them assurance. Love, protection, and tenderness are all of consummate worth.

The Lord said, “I have commanded you to bring up your children in light and truth” (D&C 93:40).

All too often, a parent is left alone to raise children. The Lord has a way of strengthening that parent to meet alone what should be the responsibility of two parents. For either parent to deliberately abandon their children is a very grievous mistake.

I think often of another boy. We met him at a seminary graduation in a remote city in Argentina. He was well clothed and well nourished.

The students came down the aisle up to the stand. There were three rather high steps. He could not make the first step because his legs were too short. He was a dwarf.

It was then we noticed marching behind him two stalwart young men who stepped forward, one on either side, and lifted him gracefully to the podium. When the service was over, they lifted him down again and then marched out with him. They were his friends and watched over him. This boy could not reach the first step without being lifted up by his friends.

Those who come into the Church come as children spiritually. They need someone—some friend—to lift them up.

If we design the steps after baptism to fit only those who have long, strong legs, we ignore what the Lord said in the revelations. The prophets have told us that we “ought to be teachers, [and teach that] which be the first principles of the oracles of God; [for they are] such as have need of milk, and not of strong meat. …

“… Strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil” (Heb. 5:12, 14).

The Apostle Paul wrote, “I have fed you with milk, and not with meat: for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able” (1 Cor. 3:2).

In a revelation given in 1830, just before the Church was organized, the Lord cautioned, “They cannot bear meat now, but milk they must receive; wherefore, they must not know these things, lest they perish” (D&C 19:22).

We must be careful lest we make that first step too high or design it for those with strong, long legs and leave the others without some friend to lift them up.

When some disciples rebuked those who brought little children, “Jesus said, Suffer little children, [suffer means to permit] and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 19:14).

When His disciples asked what kind of men they ought to be, Jesus set a little child in their midst (see Matt. 18:2–3). Except we “become as a little child, [we] can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God” (3 Ne. 11:38).

A deep concern for children and their parents is in my mind and heart and soul.

Over the years, I have wondered what President Kimball meant when he reminded me of that street orphan in Cuzco and repeated, “That experience has far greater meaning than you have yet come to know.” One day he added, “You held a nation on your lap.”

Now in my 78th year, I understand what President Kimball was seeing; I know what he meant. That boy in Cuzco and the one in Japan and the other children about the world profoundly influence what I think and how I feel and what I pray for most earnestly. I constantly think of little childrenand their parents who struggle to raise them in ever more perilous times.

Like my Brethren, I have traveled all over the world. Like my Brethren, I have held positions of trust in education, in business, in government, and in the Church. I have written books, and, like them, have received honors, degrees, certificates, plaques. Such honors come with the territory and are undeserved.

Assessing the value of those things, the one thing I treasure more than any of them—more than all of them put together—the thing of most value to me is how our sons and daughters and their husbands and wives treat their children and how, in turn, our grandchildren treat their little ones.

When it comes to understanding our relationship with our Heavenly Father, the things my wife and I have learned as parents and grandparents that are of most worth knowing, we have learned from our children.

This blessing has come to me as a gift from my wife. The Lord said of such women, “[A wife is given to a man] to multiply and replenish the earth, according to my commandment, and to fulfil the promise which was given by my Father before the foundation of the world, and for their exaltation in the eternal worlds, that they may bear the souls of men; for herein is the work of my Father continued, that he may be glorified” (D&C 132:63).

With women such as this to be the mothers of children, we see why the Lord revealed “that great things may be required at the hand of their fathers” (D&C 29:48).

I bear witness that the gospel is true, and the power of it is to bless littlechildren. I pray earnestly that the children and youth and their parents will receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, that it will be a guide and a protection to them, that it will bear in their hearts the testimony that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, the Only Begotten of the Father. In the name ofJesus Christ, amen.

10 books to read to your older little ones

Now that Landon is in school full day I feel like I don't get to spend a ton of time with him.

Our solution to this is to read together every night.
My two oldest cuddle up on my lap and get swept away into a world of Adventure.
We read a chapter a night, and sometimes more, if we really are living in the adventure.
At the beginning of the school year we chose our list of books for this school year.
I did a lot of research on what types of books would be best for the older, little ones age group.
These books are great for kids ages 4-110.
The target age group is about 4-7 but of course anyone can read these and LOVE them.
Most of these are books I read as a child and loved and wanted to share with my kids.
Some of them (like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz) are books I have never read and look forward to reading very much.

So here is your list of recommended books for ages 4-7.
(not all of the books are pictured)

Charlotte's Web: E. B. White

Charlotte's Web is the story of a little girl named Fern who loved a little pig named Wilbur—and of Wilbur's dear friend Charlotte A. Cavatica, a beautiful large grey spider who lived with Wilbur in the barn.

With the help of Templeton, the rat who never did anything for anybody unless there was something in it for him, and by a wonderfully clever plan of her own, Charlotte saved the life of Wilbur, who by this time had grown up to quite a pig.

How all this comes about is Mr. White's story. It is a story of the magic of childhood on the farm. The thousands of children who loved Stuart Little, the heroic little city mouse, will be entranced with Charlotte the spider, Wilbur the pig, and Fern, the little girl who understood their language. Amazon

(Don't gasp when I tell you this but I have never read this book. I absolutely loved the movie and would watch it all the time as a kid but for some reason I never read this book.)

Matilda:  Roald Dahl

For most kids, The Trunchbull is pure terror, but for Matilda, she's a sitting duck.

Who put superglue in Dad's hat? Was it really a ghost that made Mom tear out of the house? Matilda is a genius with idiot parents—and she's having a great time driving them crazy. But at school things are different. At school there's Miss Trunchbull, two hundred menacing pounds of kid-hating headmistress. Get rid of The Trunchbull and Matilda would be a hero. But that would take a superhuman genius, wouldn't it? Amazon

(I love this book. I read it every few months as a kid and once a year as a teenager. I have held onto my copy of the book all these years and am so excited to be reading it to my kids.)

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz: L. Frank Baum 

Five stars.  An awesome classic for kids of all ages.  The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is a children's story written by L. Frank Baum.  It was originally published in 1900, and has since been reprinted countless times, sometimes under the name The Wizard of Oz.  The story chronicles the adventures of a girl named Dorothy in the Land of Oz.  Thanks in part to the 1939 MGM movie The Wizard of Oz, it is one of the best-known stories in American popular culture and has been widely translated.  Its initial success, and the success of the popular 1903 Broadway musical Baum adapted from his story, led to Baum's writing and having published thirteen more Oz books.Amazon

(I have never read this book. I love the movie and had since I was kid. Something about the Wizard of Oz just speaks to my heart. My boys LOVE the movie and will watch it over and over again so I am excited to read the book to them.)

Stuart Little: E. B. White 

Stuart Little is no ordinary mouse. Born to a family of humans, he lives in New York City with his parents, his older brother George, and Snowbell the cat. Though he's shy and thoughtful, he's also a true lover of adventure.

Stuart's greatest adventure comes when his best friend, a beautiful little bird named Margalo, disappears from her nest. Determined to track her down, Stuart ventures away from home for the very first time in his life. He finds adventure aplenty. But will he find his friend?Amazon

The Witches:  Roald Dahl

This is not a fairy tale. This is about real witches." So begins one of Roald Dahl's best books ever, and, ironically, it is such a great story because the premise is perfectly plausible from the outset. When the narrator's parents die in a car crash on page two (contrast this terribly real demise with that of James's parents who are devoured by an escaped rhinoceros in James and the Giant Peach), he is taken in by his cigar-smoking Norwegian grandmother, who has learned a storyteller's respect for witches and is wise to their ways.

The bond between the boy and his grandmother becomes the centerpiece of the tale--a partnership of love and understanding that survives even the boy's unfortunate transformation into a mouse. And once the two have teamed up to outwitch the witches, the boy's declaration that he's glad he's a mouse because he will now live only as long as his grandmother is far more poignant than eerie. Amazon

(This book is one of my all time favorites. I love it! I loved the movie and I loved the book. When I told hubby that I was going to read this book to the boys he cringed and said, "GAH! That book freaked me out." Opps, I thought it was awesome, I guess we will see where our kids stand on that one.)

James and the Giant Peach:  Roald Dahl

James Trotter loses his parents in a horrible accident and is forced to live-miserably-with his two wicked aunts. Then James is given some magic crystals that give him hope. But when he accidentally spills these crystals on an old peach tree, strange things begin to happen. A peach starts to grow and grow until James is able to climb inside and escape his awful aunts! And through this adventure, he makes some interesting friends, including Grasshopper, Earthworm, Miss Spider, and Centipede, and finally finds a place where he belongs. Amazon 

(I loved this book as a kid. I did not like the movie, but very much enjoyed the book.)

Mr. Poppers Penguins: Richard Atwater 

A classic of American humor, the adventures of a house painter and his brood of high-stepping penguins have delighted children for generations. "Here is a book to read aloud in groups of all ages. There is not an extra or misplaced word in the whole story."--The Horn Book. Newbery Honor Book. Amazon

(I have never read the book, or seen the movie but it has gotten great reviews.)

The Mouse and the Motorcycle: Beverly Cleary

"Boy!" said Ralph to himself, his whiskers quivering with excitement. "Boy, oh boy!" Feeling that this was an important moment in his life, he took hold of the handgrips. They felt good and solid beneath his paws. Yes, this motorcycle was a good machine all right.

Ralph the mouse ventures out from behind the piney knothole in the wall of his hotel-room home, scrambles up the telephone wire to the end table, and climbs aboard the toy motorcycle left there by a young guest. His thrill ride does not last long. The ringing telephone startles Ralph, and he and the motorcycle take a terrible fall - right to the bottom of a metal wastebasket. Luckily, Keith, the owner of the motorcycle, returns to find his toy. Keith rescues Ralph and teaches him how to ride the bike. Thus begins a great friendship and many awesome adventures. Once a mouse can ride a motorcyle ... almost anything can happen! Amazon

(This book made me laugh so much. I adore Ralph and his motorcycle and I was in heaven when they made the books into movies. Beverly Cleary is one of my favorite authors so I am thrilled to share this with my kids.)

The Indian in the Cupboard: Lynn Reid Banks 

What could be better than a magic cupboard that turns small toys into living creatures? Omri's big brother has no birthday present for him, so he gives Omri an old medicine cabinet he's found. Although their mother supplies a key, the cabinet still doesn't seem like much of a present. But when an exhausted Omri dumps a plastic toy Indian into the cabinet just before falling asleep, the magic begins. Turn the key (and the toy comes alive; turn it a second time and it's an action figure again.

The Indian in the Cupboard is one of those rare books that is equally appealing to children and adults. The story of Omri and the Indian, Little Bear, is replete with subtle reminders of the responsibilities that accompany friendship and love. For kids, it's a great yarn; for most parents, it's also a reminder that Omri's wrenching decision to send his toy back to its own world is not so different from the recognition of their children's emerging independence. Amazon

(I loved this story so much as a kid that I wrote a report about it in Junior High School. I look back on it now and think about how even then I understood so much more then most kids were probably meant too. I am excited to read it again and share the journey and message with my kids.)

Cheaper by the Dozen: Frank B. Gilbreth and Ernestine Glibreth Carey
No growing pains have ever been more hilarious than those suffered loudly by the riotous Gilbreth clan. First there are a dozen red-haired, freckle-faced kids to contend with. Then there's Dad, a famous efficiency expert who believes a family can be run just like a factory. Finally there's Mother, his partner in everything except discipline. How they all survive such escapades as forgetting Frank Jr. in a roadside restaurant or going on a first date with Dad in the backseat or having their tonsils removed en masse will keep you in stitches. You can be sure they're not only cheaper, they're funnier by the dozen. Amazon

(This book changed my whole outlook on parenthood. When I read this book I really wanted to have 12 kids. I still felt that way when I got married and I told my husband about it, he laughed! Well having a kid changed my whole "I want 12 kids." mindset, but not my love for the book.)


Some other books that we want to read, but will save for next year:
The Time Machine- H.G. Wells (the childrens classic edition)
Swiss Family Robinson- Johan Wyss
A Wrinkle in Time- Madeliene L'Engle
Because of Winn Dixie- Kate DiCamillo 
Fudge-A-Mania- Judy Blume
The Boxcar children- Gertrude Chandler Warner and L. Kate Deal 
Three Tales of My Fathers Dragon- Ruth Stiles Gannett
The Story of Dr. Doolittle- Hugh Lofting

Its up to us, as parents, to foster a love of reading in our children.

Reading can take us places that we would never be able to go otherwise.

Reading creates feelings, passions, dreams, hopes and desires.

There are few things besides reading that we, as parents, can give to our child will shape them in so many ways. 

Go! Find books! Read!

And embark on the journey (s) of a life time.

Forever Young

I love this song! It fills my heart with so much happiness.

When I think of my children and their futures I want these things for them.

The words are so true and so powerful.

I posted the video at the bottom of the page if you would like to hear the music and be swept away by its beauty. My kids are growing up so fast and this song just makes me happy and sad all at the same time.
(this song makes me cry, so if you are a crying momma like me, then be prepared.) 

Forever Young
(R. Stewart /J. Cregan / K. Savigar) 

May the good lord be with you 
Down every road you roam 
And may sunshine and happiness 
Surround you when you're far from home 
And may you grow to be proud 
Dignified and true 
And do unto others 
As you'd have done to you 
Be courageous and be brave 
And in my heart you'll always stay 
Forever young, forever young 
Forever young, forever young 
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/r/rod+stewart/forever+young_20117403.html ] 
May good fortune be with you 
May your guiding light be strong 
Build a stairway to heaven 
With a prince or a vagabond 

And may you never love in vain 
And in my heart you'll always remain 
Forever young, forever young 
Forever young, forever young 
Forever young 
Forever young 

And when you finally fly away 
I'll be hoping that I served you well 
For all the wisdom of a lifetime 
No one can ever tell 

But whatever road you choose 
I'm right behind you, win or lose 
Forever young, forever young 
Forever young, forever young 
Forever young, forever young 
For, forever young, forever young

Where were you when the world stopped turning?

When I was a kid I used to listen to my mom talk about what she was doing when Elvis died.

I remember listening to the song American Pie (the day the music died) when I was a kid and wondering what those people felt like.

My mom always talked about Elvis's death and how she could remember everything she was doing that day. 

She talked about how she felt and how she will never forget everything that happened that day.

As a kid I always wondered how that could be true.

I knew some pain and I had lots of memories, but most of them were just bits and pieces and not full on, whole day, memories, riddled with powerful feelings. 

When she talked about that day I knew she remembered it all. 

I knew that when she talked about it she still felt every single emotion that she felt then.

I never knew what that felt like,

that is until September 11th, 2001.

Its been 11 years since that day.

11 years and not a single memory gone, not a single feeling less intense then it was all those years ago.

As I sit here writing, the tears are still falling.

My breath still catches in my throat and my heart still aches.

My mind is still filled with fog and confusion when I remember that day so long ago.

I remember waking up to my radio alarm and that I kept hitting the snooze. 

I could hear bits and pieces of what was happening, but in my sleep riddled head I did not really hear enough to realize what was happening.

I got up after hitting the snooze too many times. 

I missed Seminary for my church and rushed across the street to my High School.

It was my senior year and my locker was right in the middle of the main circle in the building.

I remember walking into the school and running to my locker and realizing that NO ONE was in the hall. 

I got to my locker and started to unlock it, but before I could I felt an odd feeling come over me. I slowly turned around and walked to the classroom closest to my locker.

 The closer I got I realized that it was packed full of people. 

I walked into the room and turned to look at the TV that everyone was glued too.

 As soon as I saw the TV I remember thinking,

"What is happening? This can't be real."

I looked around at all the kids in the room with me and saw the tears streaming down their faces.

I dropped my backpack and slid into the desk closest to me.

I knew in that first instant, when the room disappeared around me and my backpack slide off my shoulder and I some how convinced my body to move to a chair to sit down, that the world would never be the same.

I was overcome with anger, with pain and with confusion.

But mostly I was overcome with sadness.

Every tiny little part of my body ached with pain over the lose of people I did not even know. 

I have never felt such sorrow in my entire life. 

When I saw friends walking by in the hall I waved them into the room and we just held hands and cried together.

I remember seeing people jumping from the building and I felt like I was jumping with them. 

I could feel the heat on my face and I felt like I had a huge knot stuck in my throat.

How could this happen? I thought.

Why is this happening?

The fear over took my body and I willed myself to try to believe that it was not true.

It had to be some kind of cruel joke.

This kind of stuff happened in other places, other countries, other times, but never too use.

Never in our home.

I could never seem to collect my thoughts.

I walked from my first class to my second in a daze.

I wondered why we still had to go to class when it seemed like the world was ending.

When the images of the plane showed on the news hitting the second tower I could literally feel my body tense up and then go numb.

When the plane hit the pentagon and then again when the plane was forced off course and went down in a field, I wondered when it was going to end.

When the first tower fell and the news anchors started screaming, I could feel my tears pouring out of my eyes. I had never cried like that before in my life.

Would it end?

This could not possibly be the way that our world stops, could it?

It sure felt like the world stopped turning.

It felt like someone had just turned off a light. And that the world was in darkness.
The song "Where were you when the world stopped turning?" came out a few months later and I remember thinking, when he said, "In a crowded room did you feel alone?" That, that was exactly how I felt.

My third period teacher would not let us watch the news in her room and wanted to continue class as if nothing had happened. 

I was so mad.

How could she possibly think that any of us could focus on anything else?

My mind was in a hazy fog and I wanted to scream at her that life was never going to be the same, couldn't she see that?

I ended up leaving the class and just wandering the halls until 4th period. 

My 4th period class was all girls and we all pilled up onto the couches together and just held each other and cried. 

We talked about how we were feeling.

We worried about the people in the planes and in the towers.

We worried about our loved ones and our friends that were there.

I remember crying until I had no tears left.

I could taste the salt from my tears in the corners of my mouth and I could feel my skin tighten under the streaming tears.

How would we pick up the pieces as a nation?

How could we survive?

As a 17 year old kid I did not have any of these answers.

I did not know at that time, that we as a nation would unite together.

We would come together on a united front and bond in a way that I never knew possible.

It seemed like hate for others was gone.

It seemed like the whole world was having that spirit of Christ so fully in their lives.

The spirit of hope and peace that you feel around Christmas time, was felt all the time.

Every time I see pictures of the World Trade centers before they fell, in movies and TV shows, I feel the rush of emotion and feelings that I felt that day many years ago.

I will never forget that day.
I don't think I could ever forget.

I will tell my children about that day, just as my mother shared her story with me.

I will tell them about the brave men and women that lost their lives that day, and for many months after.

I always watch the movie The World Trade Center on this day, to remind me of the tragedies that happened and the hope that rose up from the ashes.

I know that I will never forget that day. 

I don't ever want to forget that day.

That day God watched down from Heaven and wept with us.

He mourned and hurt for all of his sons and daughters.

And he was there to pick us all up and to teach us all in that time of deep despair.

On that day, we all were the same.

On that day we were all united in the same cause.

We were all doing the same things and all hurting together.

Such unity is a rare thing to witness and to be apart of.

Let us never forget that day and more important let us never forget what that day was for.

Let us never forget the aftermath and the growth.

If we forget those things, then that day will have meant nothing except serving as a reminder of the immense pain that we all felt.

I will always remember.

I will never forget.

Time and punishment

Time out is hard.

 Its not just hard on the kid in time out but its hard on the siblings, and the parents as well.

 I will talk about this more in a minute, but first I need to preface that "talk" with a couple of things.

Some days I wonder if I did anything right!

I feel like the kids fought worse then ever before and that I was constantly saying "Be nice to your brother.", "Don't hit your brother.", "Stop calling your brother names.", "Let your brother play with you." along with about 50 other things. 

I wonder if anything that I am saying to them is sinking in. 

I wonder if the things I teach them about Jesus throughout the week are sinking in or not. 

I wonder if they will ever show each other love again.

It is amazing to me in these times that I so easily forget how wonderful they may have been the day before. Or that more then likely the next day (or a few days later) they will all be best buds again, building forts, sharing their toys, telling each other they love each other, and giving high fives because "your the best brother ever". 

It is those days that I know I am doing something right.

Its those days that I see so much evidence of this quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson

"The years tell us much that the days never knew."

I need to remember this every day. (and I get better at it each day)

I need to remember this not only on the good days but on the bad days also.

I need to remember that even though my kids were mean to each other and not very nice, that they are still learning to be the best version of themselves that they can be. Just like I am still learning every minute of every day to be the best mom I can be. 

Each day teaches all of us more and sometimes it takes A LOT of times for something to sink in.

Even though I feel like I say the same things over and over again and that they make the same mistakes over and over again, It will eventually sink in.

The key to this is being consistent. 

Consistent in all we do with them, especially as parents. 

The years that pass by us will show the evidence of all these days where we feel like a recording and where we feel like we just do the same thing over and over again. And usually, as long as we are consistent in all we do, the end result with be amazingly wonderful and totally worth it.

Life is beautiful and there is so much beauty in the simplicity of it all. 

There is beauty in the average every day to day tasks.

Our kids grow up. 

They become adults and probably will have kids of their own.

Its that simple.

The hard part is taking the time to teach them every day so that they grow up to be good people.

I have had to change my parenting over the years to fit each child. 

If I want them to grow up to be good people I need to be consistent for each of them and tailor my parenting to each one of them.

While my kids may all have the same physical mold (seriously I think we made 4 carbon copies. We get told all the time how they all look so much alike, and often get asked if 1-2 are twins and 2-3 are twins.) they don't have the same spirits or the same hearts. 

I need to fit my parenting to their individual needs (now this can open a can of worms that I will not get into, but there are rules that they all have to follow, and lessons that they all have to learn, but each kid learns differently so we teach each kid differently.)

What worked with one kid did not work with the next.

Landon and Tayton at age 18m-30m would stand in the corner when they were in time out and it worked great.

Braddoc on the other hand would scream and cry and throw a fit if I put him in the corner and so all that worked for him was going to his room.

I learn each day something new about my kids.

 And something I have discovered along the way is that just like us as adults, they like to be in control of things. 

As parents we are still teaching them things because, of course, they are too little and not "learned" enough to be in control of everything.

I pick my battles a lot with them. 

There are a lot of things that they CAN'T be in control of, simply because they are not old enough to make those decisions on their own yet. It is my job as a parent to teach them these things each day and to build them up so that one day they can make the big decisions on their own.

I let them pick out what meal they want for lunch.

I let them pick out the clothes they want to wear each day (and I don't say anything to them about it unless its Sunday and for church, or if we are going somewhere really nice.)

I let them pick out their own shoes and clothes at the store.  (we only give the big kids a set amount of money a year to buy that stuff, and after that they have to buy it with their own money. I talk about this here. )

They are also in charge of their room and I don't have any say over how dirty it gets (to an extent, no food or drink in the room. I also talk about this here.) 

And I also, to an extent, let them be in charge of their time outs.

I was on the look out for a better way to help them understand the minutes of their time outs.

We have a time out spot for them and they are not allowed to talk to anybody or do anything while they are in time out. 

For awhile we put them both in time out for their age, four minutes for a 4 year old and six minutes for a 6 year old. But in all honesty that was not really working for us because it takes Braddoc a little bit longer then 4 minutes to really calm down. 

The boys would sit in time out and ask me every 30 seconds if the time was up yet.

I wanted to find something that would be easy for them to have control over and so when I saw this wonderful 5 minute sand time at RodWorks, I was super excited.

The boys go and sit in the time out chair, turn over the timer and can watch their time fall away.

There is no more, "Mom how much more time?" "Mom is my time up yet?" or "Mooooommmmmm when can I come out?"

This is also worked amazingly with Braddoc and his autism. It gives him something to focus on and calm him down. He will even go into the time out chair and use the timer just to help himself get unstimulated. (is that a word? well it is now.)

They sit there and think about what they have done, and watch the time go by.

When they are done with the time out they have to talk to me about what they did wrong and how they can work to make it different. 

If they tell me they don't know what they thought about then I tell them to turn the timer over again, and of course usually they hurry up and tell me what they learned.

(Tayton is too little for this, so he just sits in the chair and I talk to him about what he did wrong.)

If they have done something wrong to someone else we usually role play how they can handle this in a better way. We talk about what they did wrong and trade that out for something that would have been nicer and made the situation turn out differently.

We also have a time out bench, the bench is for 2 people. If the older boys are fighting and both of them need to be in time out, then they sit on the time out bench together and have to work out together how they could treat each other better. (I will talk about this in another post.)

This time out has worked really well for us. 

The best part is, is that the boys will put themselves in time out and turn over the timer when they know they did something wrong (not every time, but a lot of the time.)

They have control over their time out and therefore, hopefully, better control over their emotions.

The years (or weeks) have showed me much that those first few days of this did not show.

The boys are learning each day about how much time outs stink. 

They learn that its not fun when their buddy is in time out for 5 minutes and they have no one to play with.

They learn that its not fun to sit in time out and not be able to play.

I learn that even though it was a HUGE pain to send them to time out over and over again for so long, for the same thing, that some days the timer only gets used once of twice. 

I learned that even though the first few days of teaching them something new were frustrating and hard, that in the end it pays off and they learn. 

Not only do they learn but they absorb it into their hearts and change.

Time outs are hard on everyone.

Being consistent is hard.

Saying and doing the same thing over and over each day is hard.

But in the end the years (or weeks) truly do tell us much that the days never knew.