Bella

Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me #’s 4-6
From the book Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me
by Cynthia Copeland Lewis
#4
It’s more fun to color outside the lines.
(I think that the human hands would be in the outside the line category.)

#5
If you’re going to draw on the wall,
do it behind the couch.
(My Abigail would be the one to figure something like this out.
She is not only super smart, but super sneaky.)

#6
If the flowers you draw don’t look like anyone elses, that’s good.
(I want all my girls to know that they are uniquely beautiful and so are their ideas.
I hope they NEVER try to be like anybody else, even when the color.)

Happy coloring everyone.

Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me #3

Number three tidbit from the book
Really Important Stuff My Kids Taught Me by Cynthia Copeland Lewis.

“Even if you’ve been fishing for three hours

and haven’t gotten anything except poison ivy and a sunburn,

you’re still better off than the worm.”

Time-Out Time

I just read this article for some great new strategies in disciplining my kids.
After reading the article, I thought that letting the kids play cards with the dog was a really great idea of disciplining with techniques of both distraction and silliness. Let me know if your dog is as good as ours at playing spoons. It kind of runs in the Gold blood. Olive would love to get together with your dog for a card playing play date.

I typically am a go-to time out mom. I am a believer in time-out. We spanked Abigail, our oldest, for a while and found that it did not work for her at all. It just made her more aggressive. I am not saying that spanking won’t work for some children, but for me it wasn’t an option because I could not spank without anger. But, the older my children have got, the more frustrated I have become with the ineffectiveness of time-out. I have found myself trying to remember what my mom did with her seven kids when I have situations to resolve at hand.
My mom spanked so well without anger that it was a standing joke at our house growing up. There was usually much laughter accompanying our spankings, which were preferably given with a wooden spoon. It was much softer than her hand would have been. She’s such a softie. Another good thing my mom did was make my siblings and I sit under the peach tree in the backyard whenever we fought. We had to stay there until we were willing to give each other a hug. How powerful and simple that technique was. I think she may have even used it on some of the neighbor kids from time to time. And, now that I am a mother, I realize how ingenious the idea was for her sanity too. She didn’t have to worry or listen to any bickering once we were outside. She also remained neutral and made us work out our own solutions with this effective disciplining strategy.
I was really excited the other day when I had a good parenting stroke of genius. I think my mom would be pleased. The idea stemmed from her insistence that I write “I love my brother 100 times” at least 100 times in my life.
For the most part my kids behave great, but I have one pretty consistent struggle between my two bullheaded children. Abigail is 11 and wants to always tell 6 year old Bella how to do things. Bella resents it because she thinks she can be her own boss. They go at it pretty good from time to time, mostly just verbally, but sometimes they will push or hit.
Well, the other day, after one of these disagreements, and after Abigail’s 11 minute time-out, that didn’t work a bit, I gave her an assignment. She was to sit at the kitchen table and write down 10 things she likes about Bella. I was adamant that she would not leave the table until she got it done.
I was so impressed and completely surprised that Abigail cranked it out really quickly. She even threw in an extra compliment for good measure.
1. She cleans when asked.
2 She is kind to others. (not me)
3. She doesn’t quit.
4. She likes cool music.
5. She leaves me alone when I ask, which is almost all the time.
6. She loves to play.
7. She is strong willed.
8. She dresses uniquely.
9. She takes charge in doubt.
10. She loves to take care of everything.
11. She is organized.
Later Abigail admitted to me that the way that she came up with the list was to think of all the things that she didn’t like about Bella and turn them into a compliment. So, when it said, she dresses uniquely, that started out with she dresses awful. She likes cool music was really that Abigail hates her music, etc, etc.
At Abigail’s admission, I could have been defeated, but I realized that even though Abigail thought she had the upper-hand, she didn’t. I had just succeeded with a truly inspired exercise in cognitive therapy. I taught Abigail how to change the way she thinks. Isn’t that what we all have to do to love our enemies?

Mini Me

Recently my sister-in-law posted a status update on her facebook. She was so entertained because Bella had asked her Grammy to turn the radio down in the car to alleviate her headache. Grammy replied that if she would stop talking it would help her headache go away.

Bella’s response amused many other FB users that know me as well as Michelle.. “I can’t stop talking, I am just like my mom.”
I have taught my children to only speak truth. Sometimes it bites me in the butt.
Onto the serious part of the post. I wanted to write this down before I forgot.
There are three things that I have learned recently in therapy. They were key in helping me along my journey with codependency. They were BIG parts of the puzzle in teaching me to fight my codependent need to be loved.
1-I could not handle criticism.
All of these things came into play with my parenting today. You see, Bella is a mini-me, in almost every single way. She is not just my only brunette child, she is a codependent. She came that way. She has an insatiable need to be loved. It’s exhausting. God knows what he is doing because parenting her has been vital to my own healing.
Today I decided that it was time for me to share some of my therapy with Bella. If I didn’t learn about fighting my need to be loved until 37, how much better will it be for her to understand it earlier? Well, I pretty much botched trying to take my knowledge from my brain to Bella’s. There’s a reason that therapists are licensed and I am not. I found the story a little amusing.
Bella was throwing a jumbo sized fit because Abigail had wrongfully criticized her. Apologies had been made, but those of you with codependent experience know that an apology never equates the end. Bella couldn’t make herself let it go. She can’t handle criticism. Remember that was #1 from the above things I learned about myself. She was abandoned and she wanted us to know about it. She also wanted us to hurt because in her jumbled mind, us experiencing pain, makes her pain turn into a sad form of love. She started going on and on about how nobody loves her. She screamed at me that she always does things for me and I never do things for her. You have NO idea how horrible this is unless you have lived through it. And we have lived through it hundreds of times.
I caught my smirk before it surfaced as I finally understood what I had to do. Months ago I quit trying to coddle to the girl while she created her own hell and ours as well. In fact remembering this prior post, I am a little stunned that my love declaration had actually worked. It usually does not. Usually coddling or sympathizing makes things a million times worse. Today was the day to teach Bella about her love tank.
I happened to be making chocolate chip cookies. I told Bella that she would not get to play again until she was ready to have a talk with me. She took about an hour to come around. Just enough time for me to prep my discussion. We sat at the kitchen table.
I brought a pitcher of water, a glass, and a large spoonful of cookie dough. I made sure I had her full attention. As she watched me, I handed her the cookie dough. As I stretched out to her, I said, “As the first part of our talk, I just want you to know how much I love you. I am giving you this abundant amount of cookie dough just because I love you.”
She pushed it away. Actually, she whacked it out of my hand. Hmmm. At this moment I knew my assumptions are right. The kid needs to be loved, but just like her mom she is not good at receiving love. Remember that was #2 thing learned on my step to recovery. I said, “Oh, I am sorry, I guess you don’t want this. You must not want to know how much I love you.” She was still angry. I asked her if she wanted it, and in her “I don’t know what the heck I am feeling and why I am feeling this way” mood, she spit out, “No.” I give her one last chance, “O.k., that is fine, because it looks really good to me and I will eat it.” I put it up to my mouth and she snatched it out of my hand. So, she does want to be loved after all. Progress.
I then explained the theory of the love tank to Bella. I said to her that everyone has a love tank like this cup inside of them. It is what holds their love. People get their love tanks filled in many ways. They can fill it themselves, or they can get love from other people, or even their Father in Heaven or Jesus Christ. It can be filled when someone compliments them, or when they get a hug……etc. etc. Bella was intrigued. She started participating in the conversation, giving me ideas of how people feel loved. I then reminded her that I had just given her cookie dough and that it should add a few drops of love into her love tank. I also reminded her that she almost didn’t get that love because she so rudely swatted it out my hand.
So, we physically filled the tank, I mean the cup. Then, I said to Bella, “This next part is really important and I want you to understand this so that you can be happier. Bella, you are a lot like your mom and I didn’t learn this until this year and I wish I would have understood sooner.” “Bella, you and I, we have leaks in our love tanks.” Then, by her suggestion, we got out a plastic baggy and filled it. We cut off a corner and watched the love tank shrivel and die. I explained that because we have leaks in our love tanks, it stays shriveled up most of the time. When someone criticizes us, it hurts more than it does for other people because it’s not like them when they just get a scoop taken off the top, it’s like they take our shriveled tank and step all over it.
It got through to her because she immediately burst out in tears. “I don’t want a leak in my love tank!! Why do I have to have a leak in my love tank?” Yeah for me. It only took 10 minutes to successfully teach her item #3.
I said, “Don’t worry, you can fix it.”
Bella: “I don’t know how to fix it. I am going to have a broken love tank for forever.”
Me: “You can fix it. I’ve been fixing mine.”

Bella, crying in agony, “How?”
I then went on to explain that all she has to do are some really simple things. I got out some toothpicks. And demonstrated that she uses tools to stop her leak. At this point, I was glad she had gone back to sulking on the couch because I totally lied and told her that the toothpicks worked brilliantly at stopping the leak, when really they didn’t work at all.
I came up with four ideas for her. The first toothpick was that she should pray to her Heavenly Father to help her fix it. The second was to love herself. The third was to remember that people love her even if they correct her from time to time. And lastly, and most importantly, don’t forget that she has a leak and when she starts feeling sad, think about the love that leaked out.
So, needless to say, the kid now may not figure anything out for herself until she is past the age of 37 because I just completely screwed up a botched therapy session. But, I tried.
And because I am working on fixing my love tank, I am going to tell myself I did a great job, even if I didn’t.

Fight or Flight

Fight or flight…what do you think? Clowns creep me out. I would definitely never fight a clown. And that is how I am starting this post so that I can use one of the limited pictures from my third back up computer.
LG and I have been discussing this theory of fight or flight lately. As I accused him of using fake sicknesses as a way of avoiding stuff…”that would be a flight technique”, I told him.
For the most part, I didn’t marry a fighter. He avoids contention at all costs, which is a good thing and a bad thing. But, I just love LeGrand. He makes me laugh. He is learning to put up his dukes (as my Grandma Dorothy would say) a little more, which is a good thing because he is an attorney by trade, and for all of my therapy to work, someone needs to put me in my place at times.
Anyhow, back to the fight or flight. LeGrand was explaining this theory to the girls at dinner last night. He had learned in a legal education class that mentally ill people can immediately and easily switch into a fight or flight mode, whereas normally healthy people only do so when in extreme situations. LG questioned the girls after his explanation, “If a big black bear were coming at you, what would you do?” “Run away, or stay and fight it.”
Abigail and Bella didn’t hesitate to say they would run as fast as they can.

Sophia on the other hand is always our imaginative one. She said, “I would throw gummy worms at the bear.”

We all decided unanimously that we need to keep Sophia’s hair blonde the rest of her life, no matter how much peroxide it will take.
Where does she come up with this stuff?

Yes, there is a Santa Claus
After a recent depressing blog post,
I received an outpouring of love.
It was truly a miracle.
A Christmas miracle.
I had tried not to talk about our deplorable situation.
I didn’t want to be needy.
Or ungrateful.
I also didn’t want to make my husband feel bad.
Because he has been busting his tail.
But when one is building his own business straight out of college,
it is rough. Really rough.
And even rougher when you have a family to support.
This has been the worst fiscal year of our lives.
And that says a lot.
Because you all know we were in law school with three kids.
And we lived on less than $18,000 a year.
For those who aren’t Mormon.
You gotta know that Mormons keep a supply of food for emergencies.
Months back, we lived on that food for the first time in our married lives.
After months of living like this, I finally fell apart on my blog.
I threw it out there.
And I only threw a small portion
of the load that I had been carrying.
As to not make anyone feel bad.
Especially my husband.
Who I honor, respect, and admire.
Shortly after I threw it out there,
Miracles started to happen.
(LG sarcastically remarked that I should have begged on the blog earlier,
like when the kids needed shoes for school.)
I can’t even think about some of them without crying.
For instance,
A friend I haven’t spoken to in years called and asked what she could buy my girls for Christmas.
She had read the blog and felt inspired.
I am deeply grateful for all of the little miracles in 2009.
God has been good to us.
But one miracle in particular,
deserves a special mention.
A special mention
because
I met the wife of Santa Claus
when she found my blog years ago.
I would have never known Santa Claus without the blog.
Did you know that Santa really lives in Nevada?
Last week I got an e-mail from him.
The message line.
Yes, Abigail, Sophia, Bella, Caroline..there is a Santa Claus.
Along with it there was a notice to pick up a trampoline at our local Wal-Mart.
Santa’s wife had read my blog.
She notified her kind and generous husband of a Christmas need.
It wasn’t really a need, but a want.
A want on the Christmas list.
A want that some down and destitute parents could have never fulfilled.
And they would have never asked for help.
Because it was just a want.
And their kids had what they needed.
And the kids had become very aware that the basic necessities of life were blessing enough.
They could ask Santa for some amazing gift,
but he probably would be too busy helping some even more destitute kids in Africa.
But guess what?
Santa wasn’t too busy.
And on one day of the year,
nothing was too much to want.
Because on one day of the year.
Miracles happen.
And some precious little girls in Knoxville, TN got a trampoline.
Even when their parents had told them repeatedly
that Santa had kids to feed in Africa.
And would probably be too busy.
And one very little blogger.
with a very small readership.
Got her Christmas miracle too.
Santa Claus read her blog.
And on Christmas Day,
he made her husband smile.
Really smile.
And that is all she wanted.
And she had wanted that for a very long time.
Ever since last Christmas.
But she thought Santa was too busy in Africa.
But, Santa was in Nevada.
And he not only read my blog.
But he made miracles happen at my house.
That is so like him.
I heard this song on the radio the evening of Christmas.
I bawled my eyes out.
That evening my prayer went something like this:
Give Santa a halo for me, will ya?
Oh, and send his wife a big fat kiss.

It’s all how you look at it.

Caroline is 4 weeks already. I can’t believe it.

Here was my mommy conversation with my 7 year old the other day.

Sophia: “Mom, Caroline is so so smart.”

Me: “I know, all my girls are smart. Why do you think she is smart?”

Sophia: “Oh it’s so easy. She already learned how to cross her eyes. It took me forever to learn how to do that.”

All of my older girls have been in heaven for the past week while Uncle Jordan’s family has been visiting. There is a younger kid around for each of them to have one to themselves at all times.

I love America

A while back the Reader’s Digest was all about what we love about America. The issue included a contest to see who could capture in six words the heart of why we love America.

I can only remember one of the winning entries. I guess it was the one that resonated with me the most.

America: everyone I love lives here.

We have several very loved family members and friends out of the country. But truly the ones I love the most are right here with me in the walls of the home photographed above.

Although there are so many awe-inspiring things to love about my country like freedom, justice, the pursuit of happiness, the American dream, and the Grand Canyon, I am not embarrassed to say that I think I love my family even more.

Yes, I would love my country without them, but the Americans in my own household are what I truly love most about America.

What’s not to love?

Cheap Entertainment
Yep, us and our girls, we were all still partying last night.

There was none of this.

Or this.

Or this.


There was only this.

Thank you
Grandma and Grandpa Gold.

We love your music.
It’s as if you saved the collection just for us.
Because you knew we wouldn’t be able to
afford to go to Chuck E. Cheese.
Because those tokens are a whole lot more than $1.89!
This one was one of the night’s favorites.
When the girls stopped dancing and started
dressing up like mom, the party suddenly came to a close.
I have no idea why.
I thought Abigail did a great job of imitating me.
Here she is taking pictures for the blog.

Bella was really the most accurate though.
I spend all my time in my robe and baseball cap.


We can’t wait for Sunday.

Tomorrow night, I am pulling out the piano music of
“We Are The World”.
And we will move on to a new decade.
The one owned by the late Michael Jackson.

He’s an adjective.
He’s doting
Me: “C’mon girls, help me come up with adjectives for dad.”
Girls: “O.k.”
Abigail says, “Ooo ooo, I got it. Ah man, the word is on the tip of my tongue.”
Me: “What does the word describe?”
Abigail: “You know, stuffing your face with hotdogs.”
Me: “Gluttonous”
Abigail: “What does gluttonous mean?”
Me: (referring to the dictionary)
“One who eats too much.”
Abigail: “Yeah, that’s the word.”
I was thinking more along the lines of outdoorsy,
but I guess gluttonous will do.
(Thanks for all the campfires LG…
and the hotdogs)

Abigail: “Electronic – ee”


Sophia says “Happy”


Sophia says, “Sporty”
How about retired? (from coaching that is)
This man has seen enough pink soccer balls to last a lifetime.
Abigail says, “Seriously.”

Bella: “Too much cents.”
Or maybe she meant “too much sense.”
Either works.

Abigail says, “Like father, like daughter.”
(You have to understand that Bella is the chip connoisseur at our house)


Bella: “Love- ish”
Me: “You mean loving?”
Bella: “Yeah.”

Metrosexual.
(The kids all look at me in awe because I just said the word sex)
Beachy?
Sophia agrees.


Engaged.
(The kids are losing interest in my game)

Interested.
Abigail wants to prove that she isn’t losing interest.
She says that this should be
“O.k. Bella, o.k., I heard you the first time.”

Abigail says, “Freakishly weird.”
I was thinking more along the lines of
Cooperative.


He’s the leader, but that’s not an adjective.

How about trusted?

Tender.


Abigail says, “Focused.”
Accurate.


Cuddly.

Picture perfect.
This one is for Cally because she said that Conan was perfect
and I don’t want LG to be outdone.


I say sensitive.
Abigail says “Sensitive Four Eyes.”


Abigail says, “French…or not.”
“His name is French.”
She must be listening.
How many times have I said it?
“His name is LeGrand, it’s French, it means The Big.”
Or the best interpretation: “The Big and the Mighty.”


And lastly,
Completely unique, never to be duplicated, and certainly not cloned.

I love you LeGrand.
Words just don’t do justice in telling how wonderful you are as a father.
Apparently, pictures don’t do it either.
Sorry.
Next year I’ll try to be as sweet as Cally.
This year it’s just a good thing I finally finished this post after a week.
I love love love love LOVE you!
Happy Belated Father’s Day.