Tag: kids

  • Six Flags Trip Report April 2024

    Six Flags Trip Report April 2024

    I posted about Ivy’s first trip to Six Flags in 2023 –

    I also posted about our fourth trip in 2025 –

    You’ll notice a one year gap there where two trips were never shared. Here is our trip report from April of 2024 when I took Ivy for her second time to Six Flags and Sage for her first.

    (*I have notes from this trip that I’ve used to remember the details. I noticed I sometimes flipped between past and present tense. Normally I would fix this, but I think it adds to the chaotic feeling I felt during that trip, so I left it for your reading experience).

    This trip started off with all sorts of unfortunate adventures. Firstly, Beth was supposed to come, but she hadn’t been feeling well for a few days. As we packed up and started driving, she felt so sick she said she couldn’t do it. I turned around and dropped Beth back off at home.

    Secondly, we had a car trouble adventure. That deserves a post of its own, for another time. For the purpose of this trip summary, I’ll just say we left our home at 1:00pm and our 6-hour drive turned into 10 hours when we pulled into the hotel just before 11:00pm.

    Once on the road (after dropping Beth off and getting our car fixed):

    Our first pitstop was at a gas station. We went into the bathroom. The first thing I’ve come to appreciate about road trips with toddlers is how ridiculous it is. Gone are the days of swerving in front of a pump, getting gas, sprinting to the bathroom, washing hands, sprinting back to car, on the road again. 5 minutes tops.

    On this trip with a 3-year-old and a 19-month-old, every moment trying to herd them into a gas station was complete comedy. I adopted a wide-armed, wide-stance, crouch strategy to try to usher them to our destination. Inevitably Ivy would veer off, “Candy!” Sage would veer off, “Cup!” Ivy would go another direction. It would take us a full 10 minutes to get to the bathroom.

    (*Looking back on videos and pictures and… I actually can’t believe I took two girls that small to Six Flags. It was awesome!)

    I finally got Ivy and Sage filed into the stall with me. I checked if Ivy needed to go and begged the girls not to touch anything. Before I could clean the toilet seat that was covered in pee Sage slapped both hands down on it. While I tried to manage Sage, I asked Ivy again to please not touch anything and like a fly to honey she slowly started moving her water bottle to the toilet seat.

    “No!” I yelled.

    Her water bottle gently touched the toilet seat.

    Ivy explained that she tried to tell Pria (the name of her water bottle at the time) not to touch, but Pria wanted to give it a kiss.

    Face. Palm.

    The seat was cleaned, bathroom was used, hands were thoroughly washed, cup was sanitized (it was just the bottom that touched, get over it), and we were off! Just kidding. At least 20 minutes to decide what treat they wanted, getting it, purchasing, reloading into the car. And we were off!

    Every stop was like this. This plus the van issues are why a 6 hour drive turned into 10.

    Another funny moment was when we officially crossed into California. I excitedly told the girls we made it to California (partially in disbelief that we got that far). Ivy looked out the window and said, “California looks like a lot of dirt.”

    We made it into the hotel like thieves under the cover of night. I set up the pack and play for Sage to sleep in. Ivy laid next to the pack and play and had to scrape her fingers across the material until I asked her to stop… a dozen times.

    I was organizing stuff in the room. I was in the bathroom and I hear Ivy scream at the top of her lungs (really, the top of her lungs) “NO SAGEYYYYY!!!!!!!”

    I got into bed and wrote these highlights at 12:11am before falling asleep. Onto day 2.

    Day 2. Beach. 7:15am-9:15pm.

    We woke up and Ivy, Sage, and I got ready in the dark to avoid waking Arielle and Garrick who arrived at 1 in the morning. Little did they know, I had just fallen asleep myself. Sage woke up first. I got her out of bed and started changing her and getting her ready. Ivy woke up and laid peacefully in bed. I laid next to her, gave her a kiss, and asked if she wanted breakfast. She got up. Ivy LOVES hotel breakfast.

    Things have a tendency to not be wherever they were left. I suspect it’s due to Sage’s habit of moving anything she can get her hands on to anywhere else. This made getting ready in the morning more difficult.

    Breakfast. I ask Ivy to save us a table. She refuses. I don’t try with Sage as I know she won’t leave my side. I feel like Mother Duck. Ivy keeps asking for a doughnut later. Takes me forever to realize she’s talking about bagels. Ivy dumps a cup of cranberry juice all over the bench and floor. I think it had something to do with Sage but it’s hard to decipher exactly how the cause and effect came to be.

    Sage eats like normal – a ton. I’m still searching for the 8 sausage links Ivy apparently ate because I’m struggling to believe she ate them all.

    On the Ivy eating note, she took this Six Flags trip seriously. We always tell her to eat so she can get big and strong for Six Flags. It’s like she realized she’s been slacking off in the gym and now her max out day has arrived. She was trying to make up time. She ate her entire burger on the drive to California and now this breakfast of almost a dozen sausage links along with other food and has been snacking and eating nonstop. This is a girl I haven’t seen finish a plate in a year.

    We go back to the room and wake up Arielle and Garrick. Ivy is excited to see them. Sage is so shy. She won’t leave my side. We go to the beach.

    Beach – Ivy refuses to go near the water, Sage refuses to leave my side for fear that Garrick or Arielle will scoop her up and she’ll never see me again. We build sandcastles.

    Oh, the first time the water hit Sage’s feet she had the craziest reaction. It was like her whole body shut down. Her legs buckled and she started to trust fall. It was the craziest thing. I caught her.

    Garrick and Arielle went to get food. The girls and I hung out, but it was cold, and Ivy and Sage were hungry and cold and tired and I only had 2 arms. This led to an epic meltdown. We were moments away from an equally epic, comfortable cozy nap with both girls in my lap laying in a tube when it all fell apart.

    It all started to settle down when I made Ivy a sandwich. Ivy threw Sage’s sandwich in the sand. I gave Sage Ivy’s sandwich. Meltdown continued. Packed up and left. Went to the hotel and got in the hot tub and pool. Sage loved splashing her feet in the hot tub. Everything was awesome until Ivy pushed Sage to the ground.

    We went back to the room and had a great shower that audibled into a bath because a shower for 3 wasn’t working. Bath went surprisingly well despite Sage getting the bar of soap, playing with it, then rubbing her eyes.

    We got out of the tub. Meltdowns ensued. Not uncommon when girls are tired and cold. Add hungry and it’s all over. Garrick and Arielle’s friend Jacob who was also staying in the room is locked out and knocking. Sage, Ivy, and I are naked and I’m chasing them trying to do lotion and clothes. They’re both screaming. I get them both into bottoms and let Jacob in. He seems like he doesn’t want to be there. I can’t blame him.

    Ivy, Sage, and I go to dinner at Denny’s because it’s across the street and convenience tops any other consideration. It’s approaching 6 o’clock and Sage hasn’t napped. She will expire at any moment. Our time is short.

    (*This is where my notes from back during the actual trip end. The rest I will have to go off memory. Never fear, we have lots of pictures to fill in the gaps. But this will be more of a summary).

    What I remember about Denny’s was Ivy and Sage getting their food a full 15 minutes before me. This led to them being long done with their food by the time I started trying to eat. I let Ivy run amock around the basically empty restaurant with no guilt. Hopefully they learned a valuable lesson about serving two toddlers food 15 minutes before the single adult.

    The pictures below indicate I had plenty of time to take pictures before my food came.

    This picture was taken of Sage before I looked away for 4 seconds and turned back to ketchup being on her face, arms, chair, and table.

    Needless to say (just look at Ivy’s face in above picture) we went back to the hotel and crashed. Well, sometime around 9:15pm.

    (*EDIT 4/22/2026 – I found old notes from this trip, so I’m going to insert them here, taking us to Six Flags):

    The girls are amazing at Denny’s. Ivy orders mac n cheese. I make the mistake of ordering Sage chicken strips because it quickly becomes obvious she wants mac n cheese. You can see how that’s a problem. Luckily she loved the hashbrown side and Ivy was being so great and shared her mac n cheese with Sage. We had to get a third kids menu with crayon because Ivy said hers was for me. My food comes 5 minutes after Sage and Ivy’s. This is a problem because Ivy is done eating by the time my food arrives and is still hot. Ivy has a lot of time to kill. She starts roaming Denny’s – moving chairs, trashcans, table top arrangements. I let her because Denny’s started this chain of events with an unintelligent order of food deliver. I finally get to look down at my food and focus on it for 10 seconds, take a bite, enjoy it. I look up. In those ten seconds Sage has covered both her hands, arms, face, table, and is working on the arms of her booster seat with ketchup. Maybe it was 15 seconds. Sorry Denny’s. 

    We pay the check and leave. Usually I try to tidy up a little before leaving a restaurant in complete shambles. Our server says not to worry about it and I decide in this case to take her advice. We leave which usually entails vice gripping Sage’s hand so she doesn’t run in the street. Ivy stays right by my side because she’s a good girl. 

    Before going to the hotel we stop at the van to get some stuff. I’m leaning in pulling stuff out and keeping Sage between my legs so she doesn’t run into the street. I turn around after 30 seconds and Ivy is gone. I freak out. I run around the van and she’s on the other side. I grab her and bring her over to Sage. I kneel down and tell her I was worried because I didn’t know where she was and we were near the street and that she can’t do that when we’re by the street. She looks back at me and has a serious look on her face and is (actually) listening. She says “Sorry Daddy” and holds my pocket (my hands are full) the whole way back to the hotel without me having to ask.  

    We get back to the hotel. I expect Sage to go straight to bed but it’s Ivy that seems tired and lies in a bed and watches a show. Sage meanwhile sprints back and forth in the room for 40 minutes straight. She only stops to try to steal Ivy’s water bottle, or whatever else will infuriate Ivy. I get everything ready for Six Flags next day while Sage sprints a marathon and eats Teddy Grahams while Ivy relaxes.  

    I have to leave the room multiple times for water, something in the car, something else in the car. I always bring Sage because I’ve learned leaving the two girls alone always results in Sage crying when I get back. The third time I approach the door I hear Ivy yelling. Oh no. I open the door quickly. From the bed she’s saying “Hey Dad” at the top of her lungs because she wants to ask me if she can have some M&Ms. And here I was panicking. 

    Sage finally has her meltdown because I make her come back in the room. Sage gets changed and put in bed. She goes from an hour straight of running around to lying right down – in a room with multiple TVs and lights on – and goes to sleep. She’s asleep before her head hits the pillow. I know she’s tired because after I turn off the lights Ivy proceeds to get my reading light and try to flash it in Sage’s eyes. When I take it and put away I turn back around to Ivy in the pack n play on top of Sage. I yank Ivy out and Sage sleeps like nothing happened.  

    Long frustrated explanation of why I hated the water she got from Denny’s which turned into the only water she’d use for the night. She stares at me with intense focus. When I set aside that cursed water bottle and give her the water bottle she always has in bed because it doesn’t leak she proceeds to show me a dozen times how it doesn’t leak. 15 minutes after quietly lying peacefully next to me, she abruptly sits up and says “Daddy, it leaks” and proceeds to try multiple demonstrations showing it leaks. It doesn’t leak but I tell her fine we’ll put it away and take it from her. She says no she wants it and I say fine it doesn’t leak anyway and give it back to her. She lies back down with her water bottle.  

    Second straight day I was unable to quietly meditate for 10 minutes until they were both asleep. That’s 10 minutes. Think about that. Not one uninterrupted 10 minute segment in 48 hours. It’s nonstop. The irony is I need the meditation to refill my battery of patience but I can’t get that amount of time to even refill.  

    Ivy just wants to be by me. I make a comment about how maybe it’s just time to turn off all the lights and go to bed and Ivy says, “Yeah let’s go to bed I sleep with you.” Oh. She’s really tired. And oh, she just wants to be with me.  

    I know in day two I highlighted a lot of the lowlights. The meltdowns, tears, frustrations, lost tempers, screaming, messes, and challenges are all intermixed with I love yous and I’m so happy to be here with you and I’m so happy for this time we have together. There was so much of that too. But this is the real report. All the good, bad, and ugly of it. 

    All the frustrations but then I type this with Ivy cuddled up to my arm and Sage dead asleep to our left. I love these little girls so much it’s almost unfathomable.  

    I went back and added the sweet moments to balance out the frustrating ones. (*END OF INSERTED NOTES)

    The next day was the whole reason we were there. Six Flags! I don’t have any notes from the day. But I know it was filled with a million fun moments, funny comments from Ivy and Sage, and lots of laughs.

    We love Six Flags.

    Mom wasn’t there, so, uh, this happened 🙂

    They loved it.

    And it ended like this:

    What a trip.

  • Parenting is Hard and Rewarding: Polar Express

    Parenting is Hard and Rewarding: Polar Express

    We took the girls to Williams for the Polar Express. If you live in Las Vegas or Phoenix, this is a must-do activity if you have children under the age ~9.

    This was Ivy’s third time and Sage’s second time. This trip was for Ivy’s fifth birthday.

    We came into Williams on a Friday. We arrived at the hotel 30 minutes before we were able to check in. So we hung out in the hotel lobby, walking around, writing to Santa, and drinking hot chocolate. We got into our room around 3:00pm, got settled, and started thinking about dinner.

    We went to a restaurant in town then visited the shops. The girls did an awesome job and had a lot of fun.

    We got back to the hotel around 6:15pm.

    Ivy and Sage were setup together on the pull out couch. We put on Bluey and let them watch.

    I’ll recap the next four hours in one word: chaos.

    I don’t want to give all the details. Just know things were not going well. Bedtime is hard.

    Things culminated in me doing something I regretted to Sage. Afterwards, she was lying down on the bed, stoic, sad, unmoving.

    This balance being a dad who is loving, patient, caring, kind, and understanding but also enforcing rules and having a strict expectation for behavior is the most difficult thing to balance.

    I tried to apologize to Sage. I tried to comfort her and tell her I loved her and she was nonresponsive. That is very unlike Sage.

    I proceeded to get a bottle for Wren who was crying.

    Amidst balancing Wren and heating a bottle in the bathroom I heard noise in the hotel room and returned to find Ivy bouncing up and down on the bed, inches from Sage’s head. It was 11pm.

    I lost it.

    I smacked the bed and told her to lie down. I smacked the bed two more times to make sure my point got across. It was loud. Ivy cowered. Ivy cried. I think I woke up Sage.

    I started lecturing Ivy about how she was getting too old for such behavior and she needed to do better. Ivy was crying and saying I owed her an apology over and over. I told Ivy I did not owe her an apology. I looked at Sage, who was now sitting up, and said, “I owe Sage an apology.” Sage gave me a small smile.

    Those moments are so crazy. Why can’t we all be like this?

    “Become as little children” (Matthew 18:3).

    Moments ago she couldn’t look at me. Now she was smiling at me, the cutest, sweetest, most innocent and loving smile.

    I came back to Ivy.

    I started to tell her that we had all not been doing a great job lately. I told her I could be better, Mom could be better, Sage could be better, Wren could be better, and Ivy could be better. I told Ivy that she was my big girl and she had to do better. I then told Ivy she wasn’t perfect. I started to explain that I didn’t expect her to be perfect. I just expected her to do her best. Before I could elaborate, she latched onto that statement that she wasn’t perfect. She started repeating over and over, replacing “you owe me an apology” with “I am perfect.”

    I spoke very intentionally and clearly to Ivy. I reiterated that she wasn’t perfect. She got more upset. But then I told her, “I AM NOT PERFECT.” This made her pause. I told her I was not perfect and I made many mistakes. I told her I wanted to be a good dad and sometimes it was really hard. I told her we all needed to do better. I started to cry.

    I was sitting on the bed near Ivy. Ivy came out from behind her covers and knelt beside me. She wrapped her arms around me, hugged me tight, and said something I hope I never forget.

    She said, “Dad, you are perfect. You’re the best daddy in the whole world.”

    This took my crying to sob levels. Ivy started to cry. But not like she had been, not 5-year-old tantrum or normal crying. She was really crying. She hugged my neck and held onto me and she cried on my shoulder.

    I looked Ivy in the eyes and I told her thank you for what she said.

    She looked back at me and told me she loved me.

    How do we deserve these children?

    I talked more to Ivy about how we all needed to be better and that tomorrow I was going to try to be perfect. She said she was going to be perfect too.

    We went to bed. After all that, as if exhausted from a prize fight, all the girls immediately went to bed.

    The next morning they all woke up like we didn’t just go 10 rounds the night before.

    Children are amazing. Children are special.

    Sage immediately came and started bouncing on me first thing in the morning.

    Throughout that whole day, Ivy did so good. She was kind to her sisters. She was patient, helpful, and mature. She helped her cousins. She was nearly perfect. Throughout the day she would ask me, “Dad, am I being perfect?”

    Yes, I told her. She was.

    I’ve thought a lot about that night since. Do I regret losing my cool? I don’t know. As parents, we want to be awesome, patient, kind all the time. But sometimes, I think a child needs to see you hit a bed. Sometimes kids need to see that we get angry as parents too.

    Would I have had that special moment with Ivy if she hadn’t seen me lose my cool? Would she have had the desire to be “perfect” the next day?

    After losing my cool, it was extra important to be calm and show them extra love (D&C 121:43). This parenting thing is difficult. I’m trying every day to be “perfect.” I’m falling short every day. But I’m grateful for the example of these children. How quickly they forgive, move on, love so willingly and so openly. I hope I can be more like them.

    Except during bedtime.

  • Ivy Thoughts Part 4

    Ivy Thoughts Part 4

    After a discouraging post last week, and on this Thanksgiving day when there’s so much to be grateful for, it’s time for another happy installment of Ivy Thoughts. Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 for reference.

    We had a bit of a fly infestation in our area for a couple weeks. Flies were in our home. We talked to neighbors and learned it was everyone. This led to a couple weeks of me constantly swatting flies. It became a fun recreational activity for me. Make lemonade out of lemons kind of thing. Now, Beth says if Ivy hears her make any loud sound in the kitchen, Ivy will yell, “You killin a fly mommy?”

    All these dead flies have led to another interesting development. We were on a trip to the Grand Canyon and Ivy started talking about how someone died. I looked at Beth questioningly. I hadn’t heard Ivy talk about death before. Beth asked me if I knew where this discussion on death was coming from. I started scouring my memory for books we’d read, shows we’d watched, movies we’d seen, discussions we’d had in front of her. I couldn’t come up with anything. Beth informed me that Ivy’s interest (or knowledge in?) death started after all the dead flies she’d been seeing. It’s crazy what these kids pick up and how they learn things.

    We went to an NBA Finals party at a friend’s house. Ivy and Sage were the only two kids invited. They’re cool like that. But it was basically a bunch of guys I play basketball with, a couple wives/girlfriends, then Beth and I with our two girls. The hosts got Ivy a box of Barbies to play with. This was Ivy’s first experience with Barbies and boy did she take to them. The next day Beth reported an exchange Ivy had with her Fisher Price Little People (her old favorite toys). It was a reenactment that went something like this, “People say, ‘What you want for Christmas?’ And I say ‘ummm I want Barbies like at the party’ and they say, ‘okay we tell Santa.’”

    I was reading Ivy a bedtime book. Somehow, this night, she got ahold of Beth’s phone during bedtime and was scrolling through Beth’s pictures, which are almost all Ivy and Sage, obviously. Ivy wasn’t paying much attention to the book. I thought about giving up, but reading to her at night is one of my favorite parts of any day. It wasn’t the first time I was reading to an un-captivated audience. In an attempt to get Ivy’s attention, I said, “Look! A fireman!” Pointing to a fireman in the book. Ivy, without looking up from the phone, said, “That’s right, Dad.” It was a terrifying look into my future.

    The very next morning Ivy and I were sitting on the couch eating fruit and watching the only movie that was allowed in our home while Ivy’s awake for 6 months, the Polar Express. She was entranced by Polar Express, despite it being her (twice a day for ~6 months, let’s go with) 360th viewing. I said to her, “These strawberries are really good.” Without looking away from her movie she replied, “That’s right, Dad.”

    Proud moments are one of the best parts of being a parent. Proud moments happen about as often as “not proud” moments. We try our best to laugh at the not proud moments and dwell on the proud moments. A “not proud” moment is every time Ivy throws food on the floor. I had a recent proud moment. It was just her and I hanging out in the living room. Beth and Sage were napping. Ivy and I were trying to decide what we wanted to do. Options included playing a game, building a tower, or playing with her Little People.

    Then Ivy caught me off guard. She said, “We clean?”

    I responded, “You want to clean the room?”

    Ivy said, “We clean. Mommy be so proud?”

    I told Ivy that Mom would be so proud if we cleaned the room. Instead of playing a game, we spent the next 30 minutes cleaning the room. It was awesome.

    I don’t know how Beth will feel about me sharing this story but it’s too funny. Also, it’s not true, so it’s fine. For whatever reason, Ivy got obsessed with the idea of stinky breath. For other random obsessions see other Ivy Thougts posts for mentions of Zach, fried rice, and puppets. I believe this obsession originated from Beth telling Ivy she needed to brush her teeth, or her breath would stink. The other day, Beth was cuddling with Ivy on the couch. Ivy was sitting with her head on Beth’s shoulder. Beth looked down at Ivy and said, “I love you. I’m so glad I get to be with you.” Ivy looked up at Beth and said, “Your breath stink.”

    Do you have a little hype person for every time you go to the bathroom? I do. We recently had a road trip back from St. George to Arizona. We stopped 4 times. Every time I took Ivy with me to the bathroom and every time she stood behind me at the urinal and said, “Go Daddy go! Go Daddy go!” She’s been doing this for months and it’s really quite encouraging.

    I showed Ivy a picture of her as a baby and asked, “Do you know who that is?”

    “Sage,” she responded.

    I told her, no, that was baby Ivy.

    She responded, “Oh… I love her.”

    We should all love ourselves the way Ivy loves baby Ivy.

  • Ivy Thougts Part 3

    Ivy Thougts Part 3

    It’s time for one of my favorite posts to write – Ivy thoughts!

    This is a good one.

    One of the funnest things about being a parent is watching your child start to mimic you. It’s in those moments that I get a snapshot into how closely she is watching me. The other day Beth texted me and said, “I can tell when there’s a habit you do because Ivy does it. Like tapping your toothbrush on the edge of the sink. I said, ‘Does Daddy do that?’ And she said, ‘Yeah Daddy like tap tap tap.’”

    Other examples are the words she copies. The other day she said to her grandpa, “Papa, come hang out.” Another time they were playing a game and she said, “You give it a try.” My favorite example showing Ivy paying attention and learning, she was standing at the kitchen counter while her grandpa cut vegetables. He set the knife down and she, unprompted, said, “Ivy no touch knives.” Ivy helps me put the dishes away. I’ll hand her cups, plastic bowls, plastic plates, forks, spoons and she’ll put them in the dishwasher. Early on I would start to hand her a knife and then pause and say, “Does Ivy touch knives.” Of course, in the beginning, she would say, “Yes,” and I would say, “No, no, Ivy doesn’t touch knives,” and she’d quickly say, “No, no, Ivy no touch knives.” So we’d continue and if I started to hand her a knife to test her she would quickly say, “No, no, Ivy no touch knives.” Glad to see the things I’m teaching her are travelling.

    I had Ivy for an hour while I worked one day. She sat on the couch and watched Curious George by herself for 30 minutes. 30 minutes in she wanted to work with me. I tell her she can sit on my lap as long as she doesn’t touch anything. She proceeds to touch everything and say, “Can I touch this.” This I accept, having played this game before, as long as she doesn’t touch my keyboard. Then she starts throwing things. I gently set her aside and tell her it’s back to Curious George. This whole time she hasn’t said a word about the bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs on the right side of my desk. I’m amazed until… 2 minutes later she comes back. She walks up to my right arm which is on my chair’s arm rest. She gives my arm a huge hug and says, “Daddy, I’m so proud of you.” She gives it a good squeeze. I say, “Aw Ivy, thank you, I love you,” and give her a kiss. She promptly reaches over for the bag of chocolates and starts to walk away. I grab them just before she is out of reach. I tell her she can have one. I unwrap it and give it to her. As she walks out she says, “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” Is this what being wrapped around a finger feels like?

    Ivy and I were cuddling in bed after a nap and totally out of nowhere Ivy looks up at me and says, “You have sharks on your water bottle, Dad?” I looked over at my water bottle and said, “No, my water bottle is just green.” Ivy said, “It OK Dada, one day when you’re bigger you’ll get sharks on your water bottle TOO.”

    The other day Beth asked Ivy if she tooted and she said, very seriously, “No. There’s just a bobcat in my bum.” The same day, after I left for work, Ivy asked Beth, “Where Daddy going?” Beth responded that I went to work and Ivy said, “Again?!?!” You and me both sweet girl. She had a lot of personality that day.

    This was one of those equally heartbreaking and also wonderful parenting moments. I took Ivy with me to an open gym for basketball a couple months back. I expected it to go well. It went as poorly as it could have. I had to leave early and it was the last time I took Ivy to open gym. In my frustration, after Ivy was upset and throwing a fit and crying, I told her I’d hoped I could take her with me to basketball more this season but that I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Like I said, I hadn’t taken her back with me since. Recently, I was at basketball. Ivy saw me leave with my bag and ball. “Where you goin Daddy?” “I have to go to basketball sweetie, I’ll see you when I get back.” She just looked at me with the most beautiful eyes and content face. But it wasn’t the normal – ‘see ya later’ face. While I was at practice Beth texted me, “Ivy’s been packing a bag and saying ‘I’m packing because I have to go to basketball soon. I know you will miss me when I’m at basketball. I come back though.’” I realized I need to give her another shot.

    Apparently when I was gone for work an entire day Ivy kept saying, “Say what’s wrong Hero Boy.” So Beth replies and asks what’s wrong with Hero Boy. “I lost my daddy.” Heart. Broken.

    We’ve had a few days of complete toddler turmoil. I love Ivy. She’s been a monster. She’s in the stage where if you ask her not to do something it’s instantly the next thing she does. Not kidding. We’ve been letting her play Battleship. You know, like the old school board game. She sits and puts the ships and pegs in and plays Battleship with herself. On occasion, the little pegs drop and I had to emphasize to her that it was important those didn’t drop because we didn’t want to lose pieces and Sage could choke on them. Ivy got out of her chair, walked across the room to where Sage was, and started to hand her one of the little pegs. It wasn’t like the temptation was even there. Sage wasn’t right next to her. She had to get out of her seat (a lot of work) and walk across the room to find Sage and willfully disobey what I just said. It was like she was possessed by some irrepressible urge to do exactly what I just told her not to do. These are the parenting moments that are teaching us patience, I guess.

    On that note of Ivy being difficult and us trying to be patient – I was leaving for basketball the other day and it had been a particularly stressful day for Beth. I went to Ivy before I left and quietly talked to her. I asked her to be my best girl. To help her mom, to take care of her sister, and to be my best, sweetest girl. “Can you do that for me?” “Yes, Daddy.” Beth texted me while I was at basketball: “We finally had a quiet moment to sit down after a walk and crafts. I’m trying so hard and yet she’s being so difficult! Ivy has a cold drink and Sage is eating her dinner. Ivy looks up at me and says in a sweet little voice, ‘Mom, I am doing my best.’ I have no idea where she heard that or if she even knows what that means but it was so sweet and probably true so I told her, ‘I know, my sweet Ivy’ and felt a little calmer. The student becomes the teacher yet again.” Ivy knows what that means. And she’s amazing. And she’s teaching us so much, while we try to teach her just enough to survive and not choke her sister.

  • Of Goodly Parents

    Of Goodly Parents

    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.

    My mom joked while my whole family was gathered around watching, “See, we did teach you about the Bible.”  We laughed.

    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.

    1. I have a divine inheritance; I am a child of God.
    2. I am loved.
    3. 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.