Tag: parenting

  • Ivy Thoughts Part 2

    Ivy Thoughts Part 2

    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 That’s been replaced by “Ivydysseus.”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.

    One night I was reading Ivy a book called I was so Mad before 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.

  • The Lesser Talked about Sacrifice of the Atonement

    The Lesser Talked about Sacrifice of the Atonement

    One of the tragedies the trinitarian belief (that God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are one being) has taken away is appreciation and understanding of God’s part of the sacrifice in the Atonement.

    “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son.”

    Doesn’t mean much if there isn’t actually a God giving up his Only Begotten Son, right?

    We talk so much about the sacrifice that Jesus Christ did for us, for good reason. His Atonement paved the way for us to return home. He suffered, bled, felt the crushing pain of a universe of sickness, pain, and sin, and died for us. He did that. There’s reason we talk about Him. He is the only way to God, our Heavenly Father.

    Speaking of God’s part in that sacrifice shouldn’t diminish what Christ Himself did for us.

    I’m a father.

    The other day Ivy was on the top of the couch and fell backward to the cushion. She wasn’t hurt at all. She was fine, but try telling her that. She was scared, and she was screaming and freaking out. She was fine, but she was still upset.

    Now, if Ivy was really hurt, if she fell from the cushion down to the floor, I would have moved so fast. I would have been there. As it was, I stayed in my seat and tried to tell her how awesome a fall that was.

    If Ivy or Sage are in real pain, I’m there.

    I can’t imagine the torment, the suffering, the heart-wrenching anguish of watching my children suffer. I can’t imagine it.

    God can.

    God watched His Son be spit upon, scourged, beaten, slapped, ridiculed, and finally nailed to a cross to die a slow, painful, and seemingly humiliating death.

    Words from Jeffery R. Holland in a 1999 talk:

    “I am a father, inadequate to be sure, but I cannot comprehend the burden it must have been for God in His heaven to witness the deep suffering and Crucifixion of His Beloved Son in such a manner. His every impulse and instinct must have been to stop it, to send angels to intervene-but He did not intervene. He endured what He saw because it was the only way that a saving, vicarious payment could be made for the sins of all His other children from Adam and Eve to the end of the world. I am eternally grateful for a perfect Father and His perfect Son, neither of whom shrank from the bitter cup nor forsook the rest of us who are imperfect, who fall short and stumble, who too often miss the mark” (“The Hands of the Fathers,” Ensign, May 1999, 14).

    What I realize is that God knew His Son. He knew Jesus Christ was going to fulfill His destiny. He knew what His Son, Jesus Christ, would do on the cross. LIke me on the couch, knowing Ivy was ultimately going to be OK, God knew Jesus Christ would be OK. He knew that Christ so loved us, that He would suffer it all for us. Why did God do it though? Why didn’t He send angels to intervene? Wouldn’t that be what a loving Father would do? He didn’t intervene because He so loved the world. The world is us. He loves us so much that He was willing to suffer this pain of watching His Son suffer. The ultimate sacrifice, of Father and Son.

    If that doesn’t bring you to tears, I don’t know what will.

    God loves you.

    I don’t know how it all works. I don’t know how the celestial kingdom, heaven, a place of infinite joy and peace, can also have weeping. But I know that my God weeps.

    Don’t let us forget that God suffered that day too. He suffered an anguish hardly imaginable. The anguish of watching His only begotten in pain.

    In the case of the suffering of Jesus Christ, the payment had to be made to save us. In some grand cosmic mystery that I don’t yet understand, we can’t return home until we are perfected through the blood of Christ. God allowed that sacrifice, and contributed His sacrifice, because he loves the world. He loves us.

    I believe God does weep over the evil, heartache, pain, suffering, and sadness in this world. He weeps over sin. He weeps over us.

    But ultimately, we have fallen to a soft cushion. We are safe. We are secure. We are secure in the blood of Jesus Christ. We are secure only because of Jesus Christ and what He did for us.

    While God wants to come comfort us, He doesn’t stop suffering because we’re still on the couch cushion. And if it helps us grow, does that make it any easier for Him to watch us suffer? Maybe. I knew Ivy wasn’t really suffering. I knew it was temporary fear she felt. I was always there for her.

    This is my reminder to you: God is there for you. He will never leave you. He is always aware of your hardships. In addition to God, Jesus Christ isn’t only there with your hardships, He already felt your hardships. He understands it all, because He felt it all.

    God loves you. Jesus Christ loves you. They love you so much that they sacrificed for you. Don’t forget that. It will give you strength.

  • Ivy Thoughts Part 1

    Ivy Thoughts Part 1

    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!

  • Float

    Float

    If you’re a parent and ever get frustrated with your kids (every parent), especially if they are younger kids, you need to check out the Disney short called “Float.”

    It’s only 6 minutes long and can be watched on Disney+ or HERE.

    I have to remind myself often that Ivy is constantly experimenting. Everything she does is an attempt to understand the world around her. She’s never really trying to make a mess or destroy things. She’s only trying to see how that food that’s thrown will splatter and land.

    This Disney short reminds us that all children are unique and special. No matter how challenging our children are, we must remember they’re the greatest gift in the world. Every so often I have to pause and watch Ivy and think how amazing it is she is what she is. She was nothing 3 years ago. Today she is a living, breathing, experimenting, ever challenging, extraordinary person.

    I have to constantly temper what I think I want from Ivy.

    I want her to be confident, but I like it when she is quiet and reverent in public, especially at church.

    I want her to be independent but one day I’ll desperately miss her wanting to hold my hand.

    I want her to want my attention. Unless I’m busy.

    I want her to laugh and have fun and show joy. Unless it’s too loud.

    I want her to ask for help when she needs it, but I want her to do things she is capable of without me. At the same time, like the hand holding, one day I’ll desperately miss when my babe needed my help.

    All these contradictions we go through as parents.

    This is a short post just to be a reminder to all parents that your children are special. What makes them difficult and challenging is what makes them special. We aren’t meant to change our children. I actually think they’re meant to change us.

    Watch Float.

  • Lost

    Lost

    I wrote this our first Sunday at church with Sage.

    I don’t know what I wanted out of life as a teenager. I wasn’t someone who pictured certain things. I don’t remember picturing what my ideal life would be.

    Today we sat in church for the first time with Sage. She is 8 days old. She was next to me in her car seat, sound asleep. Ivy was on the other side of me and Beth was next to her.

    Then it hit me. This is everything I could want out of life.

    I grew up in an LDS household. My family went to church. I have lots of siblings. I don’t know if back then I realized how much I would want this. There were large portions of my life where I convinced myself that wasn’t what I wanted. But it was always there, inside me, whether I acknowledged it or not. A deep desire to have a family.

    I realize now, I always wanted a family. Right now, with my two daughters and my wife, being at church, there is nothing more I could ask for in life. This is joy.

    I work with the 11-15 year old boys in our church. After that thought came to me in sacrament meeting, I got to share it with them.

    I don’t know what those boys want out of life. I didn’t know at that age. I was able to bear my testimony to them that there is no greater joy in this life than having children, and I wished it for each of them. I told them they need to figure out what they want out of life. I told them I hoped they could find the joy I’ve been able to find.

    It was a long journey for me to get here. In that same class with the boys we had a lesson on Isaiah and the iron rod was brought up as a symbol of something greater. One of the boys asked the question: how does the iron rod, which represents the word of God, help us get to the tree of life, which represents Heaven? I told him, it is so easy to get lost. And without the word of God and His commandments, getting lost is almost inevitable. I told this boy I hoped he never had to get lost.

    I got lost. There were many times I didn’t know if I’d ever make it back.

    I often wonder why I deserve so much that God has given me. The answer must be that I don’t deserve anything. He just loves us so much, He’s willing to give us what our hearts truly desire. Whether that be in this life or the next, God has given us everything and will continue to do so. It took me a long time to realize what my heart truly desired. God let me take the long winding road here probably so I could truly appreciate it.

    I do appreciate it.

    I am grateful for the family God has given me. I am grateful for His Church. I am grateful that I’m no longer lost. I couldn’t ask for anything more.