Over Christmas, I watched family home videos with my family. We played a video from 1994, a few months after my sister Adie was born. I was four at the time. I was singing to Adie.
Early in the video, I was singing Humpty Dumpty, Old Mcdonald, and Jack and Jill. Then I started singing Follow the Prophet.
Adam was a prophet, first one that we know.
In a place called Eden, he helped things to grow.
Adam served the (King!) Lord by following his ways.
We are his descendants in the latter days.
Of course, at that age, I stumbled through most of the song and got many prompts. King was my confident guess at who Adam served. My answer was as right as the correct lyric anyway.
I don’t remember singing that song to Adie when I was four, obviously. But that song is so ingrained in my heart and soul, it’s a part of my being. Watching that video, it’s a physical, emotional, and spiritual remembering. As an adult now, thinking about that song, it feels like it’s always been a part of me. After watching that quick video, I know why.
Parenthood is infinite tiny moments. I know that every day provides thousands and thousands of opportunities to have an impact on Ivy and Sage. I’m grateful for the thousands and thousands of moments my parents impacted me.
My parents have flaws just as I do. I pray to Heavenly Father that, despite my many shortcomings and flaws, I can have a positive impact on Ivy and Sage, just as my parents had on me.
If you’ve read the themes in my writing, you know there are three things ingrained in me that I know to be true.
I have a divine inheritance; I am a child of God.
I am loved.
I am watched over.
I hope to ingrain these same truths into the hearts and minds of Ivy and Sage. I wish to remind them here of what their souls already know. That is the greatest gift I could give them.
Love You Forever written by Robert Munsch and illustrated by Sheila McGraw.
Beth made a big mistake and I’m calling her out here. She has criticized Love You Forever. For those unfamiliar with this fabulous children’s book, you can watch a 5-minute video HERE to have it read out loud to you. Or you can just read my quick summary here. I suggest you watch the 5-minute read-aloud video, but prepare for the waterworks.
Love You Forever takes you through the life of a baby boy, who turns into a toddler, who turns into a teenager, who turns into an adult. Throughout the book the mother occasionally comes into her son’s room at night and rocks him to sleep singing:
“I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.”
I won’t spoil the ending for you, but that is the gist.
I’m just going to say it: I have a hard time getting through this book when I read it to Ivy or Sage. It’s emotional thinking about them growing up to have their own house and yet, still being my babies.
Beth, on the other hand, has orchestrated an all-out assault on the precious, nostalgic, loved book. I tried to reach out to Beth for a record of that social media post. Apparently, she burned the evidence.
Recently Beth shared a mom forum post from a couple people who agreed with me. They said the book made them emotional. This led to Beth and I discussing the book, yet again. You’d be surprised how much this book has been discussed between us. Enough for me to take it to the blog!
Beth says it’s weird that the mother in the book is breaking into the house of her son as a grown man and rocking him to sleep. I say she needs to understand and appreciate the metaphor in this story. Obviously, the mother isn’t breaking into her grown son’s home. It’s metaphorical. It is a beautiful, powerful, and emotional metaphor.
I told her she’d rue the day she attacked this book.
So, Beth and I were discussing it yet again. We were talking about the book over text. There was mudslinging going on. Threats of keys being given to her dad with approval to come into our home and rock Beth to sleep. Claims of emotional vacancy and lack of metaphorical understanding.
Amidst these joking exchanges, we were also discussing an upcoming trip. I was driving with Ivy that day after work to Las Vegas. Beth was flying to Utah to surprise her sister for a bridal shower. Beth was taking Sage with her. It was going to be the first time Beth was ever away from Ivy for any serious amount of time.
That’s when, right in the middle of our Love You Forever discussion, Beth said this:
”Take good care of her. I know you will but it’s hard to let go. Remember truck stops are not safe places. And don’t forget to keep the back door shut so she doesn’t slip into the pool when people are busy playing games. Listen to her stories and give her hugs when she’s sad. It’s okay to help her be tough but also needs love. Drive extra safely. She’s my life! FaceTime me!”
Apparently, Beth is lacking in irony awareness along with metaphorical awareness. The irony was not lost on me.
I replied, “It’s like you’re metaphorically still going into her room every night to rock her to sleep. Are you going to be ok? (You attacked the wrong book).”
And with that statement, I won. What do you think about Love You Forever? Who’s got it right? Is it creepy or beautiful?
**Mandatory disclaimer for those who may misinterpret my jest as actual insults. Beth is the smartest, most intelligent, most aware, and understanding person I know. That’s why I married her. This is all in good fun. I don’t actually think she doesn’t understand metaphor. Now sarcasm… that she definitely struggles with.
There’s this book Ivy loves called “Icarus.” We learned there are a series of these books that take Greek legends and makes them into children’s stories with a lesson. Icarus, for example, flies his kite too high until it hits trees, similar to the Greek legend of Icarus flying too close to the sun. Anyways, we learned about the series, and ordered a few of them. We got one about Odysseus. Remember how Ivy often wants to be called “teacher”? That’s been replaced by “Ivydysseus.” Beth and I never said that. She came up with that on her own.
It’s not the only nickname Ivy has come up with either. We read a book about Baby Beluga. Ivy, on her own, started calling Sage “Sagey Beluga.” My family loves giving nicknames. I’m never referred to as “Brayden” by my parents. I am either Lewis or Fly. Adie is Sassafrass, Garrick is Dude, Dresdan is Jiggles, Cambria is Barbara, and Easton is Goose. Ivy apparently has the Quackenbush gene of giving nicknames.
I’ve mentioned Ivy teaching Sage how to pray. Ivy says her prayer every night before bedtime. Last night she said her normal prayer, “Thank you for Jesus, thank you for Mudder (she learned she could call Beth “mother”), thank you for Daddy, thank you for blankie, thank you for super cozy (code for being comfortable in bed), thank you for water. Amen.” Then she says, “Billy’s turn.” Billy is her stuffed bobcat. I get Billy from the floor and hand him to her. Ivy gets back into kneeling position on her bed and says, “Thank you for Ivy. Amen.” Of course, Billy has to say his prayer and the only thing he’s grateful for is Ivy.
We dog-sit a dog named Chicago. Ivy LOVES Chicago. Today Ivy “called” Chicago’s owner on the phone during her lunch. Here was what she had to update Chicago’s owner on: “Yeah Mommy’s with Sage. Chicago’s just sleeping. Yeah Chicago…Chicago…Chicago…okay bye.”
More on nicknames. You can get in big trouble for not being aware of Ivy’s current persona. At this moment in time, there are many. At any given moment she can be a completely different attitude depending on her name. “Ivydysseus,” as mentioned, indicates she’s feeling adventurous. Ivy teacher means she’s teaching you something, or potentially cooking you some food. There’s Ivy, which obviously means she’s not in character. There is Ivy James. I’m not sure what Ivy James indicates. But DON’T get caught calling her by the wrong name. If you call her Ivydysseus while she’s clearly reading you a book, you will get a firm, “No, I Ivy teacher.” When you reply, “Oh, sorry, Ivy teacher” she will reply, “Good job.”
There are things Beth isn’t allowed to say, but I am. We haven’t figured out why that is or any sort of pattern yet. But if Beth says something like, “Oh, sorry Ivy.” It’s common for Ivy to reply, “No, no, no, you no say ‘sorry Ivy.’ Dada say ‘sorry Ivy.’” This goes for all sorts of things. “No, no, no, you no say ‘OK’, Dada say ‘OK’”. That one really puts Beth in a tough spot because the natural reaction to that statement is to reply “OK” again. Beth’s really got to watch herself because if she says “OK” again… man is she going to hear about it.
Those Mini Myths books, mentioned earlier, are awesome. I already talked about the Icarus and Odysseus ones. We have a couple others. But one of those books has been causing problems. It is the Hercules version. In the Hercules version, Hercules has a little sister. At one point Hercules’s father (Zeus? Doesn’t look like him in the book but whatever) says, “Hercules, are you playing nice?” Hercules responds, “I’m strong, I’m not nice.” Hercules proceeds to destroy his sister’s tower. The book has a happy ending, of course. Hercules learns to be strong and nice. He reconstructs his sister’s tower. Ivy, unfortunately, has forgotten the ending. All day she is picking up stuff and saying, “I so strong. I not nice.” I told Beth we need to start skipping that page.
On this same note, Ivy is super susceptible to messages from books or TV. The most well-intentioned media, like the Hercules book or the show Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood (which does a ton of good) can have a negative impact. If Ivy sees anger in a show, she goes through it herself.
There is a Daniel Tiger episode where he learns how to handle anger. He pauses, takes a deep breath, and counts to four, with a little jingle attached. This is awesome. Ivy does this deep breath and counting pretty much every day. What’s crazy is that when Ivy watches the show she goes through the full emotional roller coaster Daniel Tiger goes through in the show. When he gets angry, she gets angry. It’s kind of fake anger on Ivy’s part, kind of not. I’ve seen that anger carry on after the episode is finished.
IvyMad
One night I was reading Ivy a book called I was so Madbefore bedtime. I altered the entire book to “I was so happy” because I knew if I read “I was so mad” over and over while Ivy was in bed, she’d actually get mad. It’s interesting how much those little minds are impacted by external influences.
This wraps another “Ivy Thoughts.” Part 3 is already in full swing. Stay tuned for more.
As a parent, you can’t remember a fraction of the funny things your toddler says. Here’s a list of things I’ve remembered from the past few months. Any parent will love and relate to this. And I imagine non-parents will find at least one of these things pretty funny.
List of fun things Ivy has said recently:
Ivy with a puppet
She has an obsession with puppets. Everything is a puppet. Feet, books, toys, real puppets, waffles. You name it, I promise it can be a puppet.
She hands me a real puppet, that can be put on my hand, and says, “Here, say, ‘me a puppet.’”
Later I ask, “Oh, did you make me some food?” She replies, “No. It’s for puppet.”
The other day I was writing in my journal and Ivy was hovering over my shoulder.
Ivy doing a puppet show
“Do you want a sticker?” She asked.
“Sure, I’ll take a sticker,” I replied without looking up. I continued writing.
“Do you want a sticker?”
“Yes, Ivy, I’ll take a sticker.” I don’t look up and continue to write.
“Do you want a sticker?”
“Yes,” I say and finally look up. She’s staring at the journal. “Oh.” I shake the journal like it’s talking, “Yes, I’ll take a sticker.” She looks pleased and starts putting stickers on my journal while I write. She was just going to sit there and talk to my journal until I got it through my thick skull that she wasn’t talking to me, apparently.
She then said, “Foot want a sticker, puppet?”
The journal has to shake and say, “Yes, of course foot wants a sticker.”
She then puts multiple stickers on my foot and says, “That’s better.”
On the “ignoring me” note. Sometimes I’ll say stuff to her, and she’ll just stare straight ahead and ignore me.
The other day Beth said, “She doesn’t do that with me. She only ignores you like that.”
It wasn’t twenty minutes prior that Ivy was saying something repeatedly over and over and I ignored her and said, “I can play the ignore game indefinitely.” I wasn’t being mean. She was just talking nonsense over and over in my direction and I wasn’t paying attention. If you’re a parent of a toddler, you understand.
Like I said, it was 20 minutes later that I was asking a question straight to her face and she ignored me like a pro. Deadpan. Stared straight ahead. Like she couldn’t even hear me. I said to her, “Learned behavior, I respect it.”
Ivy ignoring me like a pro
The other day she woke up from a night’s sleep. I walked into her room and said, “good morning, how are you?” She looked up at me from her pillow, sat up, and said, “I want to cook. Anyone want food?”
She also wants to be referred to as a teacher pretty constantly. Throughout the day if you call her Ivy she’ll reply, “me a teacher.” You then have to call her teacher to get a response.
Ivy Teacher
Toddler hack that I don’t know will work on any other toddler. Like I said, she loves puppets for some reason. Her love goes so far as to be respect, apparently. Ivy is pretty good about bedtime: brushing teeth, putting on diaper, putting on pajamas, and getting into bed. But, if we do have trouble with any of those steps, if a puppet gets involved and asks for the teeth to get brushed, she’s immediately compliant. I don’t know if she loves, respects, or fears puppets more.
We are on the tail end of potty training, she’s pretty much there. The other day I put her on the potty and told her to let us know if she needed anything. I left her stool at her feet and walked out. This wasn’t the first time I’d done this. What made this time unique was Beth and I, from the couch, could hear her in the bathroom singing. Then suddenly *clapping. “Is she clapping?” We said to each other.
She walked out, shut the door behind her, and said, “me pooped.” She gave herself a round of applause, shut the door, then came out to exclaim that she had pooped.
The other day she started teaching Sage how to pray. She grabbed Sage’s arms and folded them and whispered, “Heavenly Father. Thank you. Amen.” Then she said, “Good job Sagey!”
I was at a restaurant with Ivy after a basketball game and the person I was with was asking if she wanted brown or white rice in the bowl Ivy and I would be sharing. I thought about it and said brown. He said he thought kids preferred white rice. I said that was probably true, but I was being selfish. That was it. End of discussion about brown rice. For the past 4 months Ivy, every single day and night, when in her room and she’s playing with her kitchen, asks us if we want brown rice. She’ll come up and put her hand on your knee or shoulder and say, “You want brown rice Daddy?” I almost never get my brown rice, for the record.
On the topic of somehow picking up on something and never letting it go. I had this book I was reading that Ivy got ahold of and drew all over the cover with black sharpy. You’d be amazed at how calmly I took this. Anyway, one day I had the book and I said to Ivy, “Ivy, this book is so good. I might give it to my friend Zach. What do you think he’ll think of your additions?”
The destruction
I don’t remember her response. What I do remember is every time she’s seen that book since she’s asked, “Daddy give to Zach?” Zach then became somewhat of a celebrity in our house. She’ll just randomly be like, “Does Zach have knees?” (Real thing she asked). Along with tons of other random statements and questions about Zach.
This is just the beginning of Ivy Thoughts. I’m already well into Part 2. More to come. Hope you enjoyed!
One of my favorite things to do is watch a baby hear something.
Every sound – WHIP – their head is flying in that direction.
Sage on baby monitor hearing a sound
I could always see Ivy’s, and now Sage’s, internal thinking:
**Sound of a *click
**head whip, internal thought – “What the heck was that???”
It’s awesome.
It made me realize something recently. Why don’t adults react that way to noises? The answer is obvious and simple. We’ve often heard the noise before. The sound of the air conditioning powering on, we’ve heard it before. The sound of the dishwasher starting, we’ve heard that before. The sound of the refrigerator being shut, we’ve heard that before. No need to look in that direction. Noises we haven’t heard before (few) or ones that catch us off guard (like a knock at the door, who knocks at doors anymore??) will get our attention.
Ivy on the other hand – amazement.
I think the advice from Christ to be like little children has many facets to it. Humility is the one we always talk about. I think this is another way we should be like little children: our amazement of the world should never cease. We should always be fascinated by the little sounds and movements around us. We have become numb to the miraculous world we live in.
This led me to another thought: how much our attention is sought after and how noisy the world is, how we’re relentlessly attacked by noise.
Billboards, neon signs, sounds, graphics, excitement. It’s no wonder we don’t wonder at small noises when the world is screaming at us with loud ads all day every day.
Kind of wish I could go back to that innocence and truly marvel at every sound like Ivy and Sage do. Their curiosity is a beautiful thing to see. I just hope as they get older they seek after the beautiful noises, occurrences, and moments around them, and can tune out the loud, noisy, and obnoxious noises the world wants them to focus on.
No Coincidences 