Tag: toddlers

  • 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.

  • Simplified Fathership (Must read for all Dads!)

    Simplified Fathership (Must read for all Dads!)

    These are the highlights I typed up for myself from a book called Simplified Husbandship | Simplified Fathership by Richard M. Eyre. I typed this up mostly for myself to refer back to. This section is only on simplified fathership.

    (In multiple quotes in this book the author says “he” and “him” when referring to his own children. Since my children are all girls, I changed each of these instances to “her” and “she”).

    “Fathership is, in the eternal context of the gospel, vastly important. It is a key to much of what lies ahead. Until this life, fathership was God’s role, His only. When we came to this earth, we made the greatest of eternity’s transitions, assuming the fathership role ourselves – we hope to keep it for eternity. There is no greater stewardship no greater source of potential joy or of potential sorrow.”

    How true is that? There are no higher highs or lower lows than those associated with being a parent.

    I also like that idea, that we made the greatest of eternity’s transitions when we left our premortal life to come to earth. We took on the greatest responsibility when we came to earth. The responsibility over our bodies and the responsibility over the bodies of others. There was no going back once we decided to come here.

    “[Fathership] is hard because we’re dealing with the most complex things on earth: new human lives.”

    “It’s hard because God is the only one who knows how. But that is also the reason we can do it, and do well at it – because our Heavenly Father will help us (individually, personally) to be good fathers, if we ask, if we try, if we make it a high enough priority.”

     “Fathership isn’t easy, but it is natural. You do have fathership inside of you. It was bred there through the premortal eternities. It was taught by the perfect example of the only Father there.”

    Truths about fathership and families that are self-evident:

    1. “Families are heavy, profound, eternal responsibilities.”
    2. “Families are the foundation of civilization.”
      • “Every society that has flourished has been firmly founded upon strong families and homes. The early success of the American democracy can be attributed to the family. There was little social progress in the first 250 years following Columbus’s landing. Most “Americans” were French and Spanish seekers of fortune, more oriented to the pursuit of wealth than to serious settlement. America, like the Orient and all great civilizations of progress and stability, became great with the arrival of strong families who wanted to build real homes.”

    “Happy families are all alike: every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” – Leo Tolsto

    The key qualities to simplified fathership:

    1. Confidence
    2. Consultantship
    3. Calmness-Consistency-Congruence
    4. Concentration

    Confidence:

    “People respond to confidence. People live up to the images they perceive others have of them. Especially little people.”

    “All children have unique gifts. A parent who can recognize them will magnify them. He will feel real confidence in the child which the child will sense in a hundred subtle ways. Strength leads to strength. Confidence grows.”

    “Rewards are better than punishments.”

    “The father who has programmed himself to look for and show confidence will direct toward the child the kind of light that can be reflected and that will steadily and gradually increase the child’s self-esteem.”

    “Sometimes the most obvious ways of showing (and building) confidence in children are overlooked. The more direct ways are often best. The most direct way is to tell the child. Sit a three-year-old down, look her square in the eye, and say, “You are really a fast runner. You are very good at eating with a fork. You are good at building things with your blocks. I am really proud of you.”

    “Try it as an experiment. Think about the specific things you are proud of about your child. Make a mental list. Not too long. Just the main things. Think of the gifts she has, the things (even little ones) that she does well. Get her alone. Concentrate on her. Tell her what she’s good at. Some children react more than others (when I do this with my three-year-old he beams like a sunbeam and is sweetness and light for twelve hours) but all children react. Those who respond least may be those who need it most.”

    Confidence Summary:

    “A father who is self-programming the concept of “confidence” says to himself:

    • “I look for my child’s gifts, talents, virtues, sweetness. I notice all she does well, all she is, all she is becoming.
    • “I tell her! I praise her in every way – by word, look, touch.
    • “I give more attention for positive behavior than for negative.
      • (I really try to do this, though it is difficult. The natural reaction to something bad is to jump up and correct it immediately. Since that natural reaction is so hard to fight, I try to be extra intentional about reacting to positive behavior. When Ivy does something for Sage or picks up after herself, I try to be very effulgent and boisterous with my praise).
    • “I avoid criticism consciously, carefully. I separate my disfavor with things she does from my constant favor and confidence in her, in who and what she is.
    • “I love my child. I‘m more grateful for her than I can express. She is a very important person to me. I am important because I have her! She knows this; she feels it.”

    Consultantship:

    “Our Heavenly Father whose fathership is perfect and whose model all fathers should look to, set the clear example of wisdom. His plan, and that of His Son, was built around agency and freedom. He rejected (as did we) the plan of guarantees and managed supervision, choosing instead the plan of self-determination and experience, and freedom to ask, decide, and choose.”

    “Perhaps the Lord’s greatest strength is manifest when He lets us make mistakes.”

    • I think about how patient God was with me while I figured out who I am. Can I do this same thing for my girls as they grow and make mistakes? I hope so.

    A study was done by Life magazine. It selected two groups of students. One group were A students, and the other group were less self-motivated students with average grades. The students came from similar homes. The researchers traced the students’ histories backwards trying to find differences. The researchers didn’t find differences from their homes until they got to the pre-school years:

    “The difference was the parents. The A students had parents who functioned more as consultants than managers. They loved their children but were involved and busy with other things as well. Their general attitude toward their pre-school children was to keep them in a free, stimulating environment; let them explore; respond to their questions; watch for “curious moments” when they could teach their children. The C parents were more dominant, more managing. In most cases, they actually spent more time with their children than the A parents, but that time consisted of directing the children and force-feeding them with things they were often not interested in. The C children had more restricted environments and lived lives that were virtually managed by their parents.”

    One day the author planned a whole day with his kids: clean their rooms, plant in the garden, go on a bike ride. The day quickly fell apart. “The rooms never got clean, I planted by myself the only seeds that got planted, and the kids acted as if I was forcing them to ride their bikes.” The author was reminded of something urgent he had to do in the afternoon for work. He told his kids, “Kids, I’ve got a little work I have to do. There are some seeds in the shed. The directions are on them, but don’t touch them until your rooms are straight. I’ll unlock the old clothes chest for costumes if you want to play afterwards. I don’t care what you do as long as you clean up. I’ll be in the den if you need me.”

    The author states that the afternoon went amazing. He helped with a couple questions about the seeds and had to remind his son twice about his room. He settled one disagreement that “gave me a chance to teach a principle. (We “backed up” the problem and had the two act out how they could have resolved it without fighting. It was a real teaching moment, because it was related to something that had just happened rather than being a lesson I just happened to want to teach them).” The author got his work done and when he finished his kids had a play to present to him with the costumes.

    He says, “I learned that day that children do not need to be told to learn or told what to learn. They need responsive parents. They need a father who is more interested in them and in their needs and interests of the day than in his own preconceived ideas of what would be fun or what they should learn.”

    I have found this to be especially true lately with Ivy and Sage. When anything happens – Ivy takes something and Sage is screaming, Sage hits Ivy and Ivy is retaliating, etc. I usually intervene and help them resolve it. Lately I’ve just been letting it happy. This takes a lot of resolve because the natural parent reaction is “there is conflict happening with my kids, I need to do something.” But what I’ve found is, when I intervene, I can usually calm it down after a couple minutes, but another conflict is very likely to happen again soon after.

    What I’ve found is that if I just let the conflict happen between them, it might take longer to calm down, someone might even get hurt, but they will eventually resolve it. And when they do resolve it, it will be done, over, squashed. I think when I step in and force a resolution, there isn’t really anything being resolved. I’m putting a band-aid on the situation and it will soon happen again. But when they’re allowed the space to work it out together, it actually gets resolved, and they move on to peaceful, awesome, team-work play.

    “Children are more like plants than like clay. They need to be nourished, not formed; cultivated in their own growth, not pressed into molds.”

    “My Commitment to My Children’s Agency”:

    1. I will not force my children into my preconceived mold of what they should be. I will try to discover who and what they really are as they discover themselves. I will try to expose them to many things and to encourage their interests, their abilities.
    2. I will try to give them a free and active, open environment. No parts of our house will be off-limits. I will be sure there is an abundance of crafts, projects, books, games, and materials to experiment with.
    3. I will watch them, listen to them, and answer their questions honestly (with another question whenever I can). I will watch for “teaching moments” and take the time necessary whenever I see one.
    4. As much as practical, I will let them make their own decisions.
    5. I will make my own life as real and full as possible so that I will serve as an example to them of the joy of growing up and becoming an adult. I will show confidence in the gospel and in myself so that they will want to come to me when they have questions or worries.

    Item one will be difficult for me given my love of basketball. I hope my girls will develop a love of basketball as I watch with them, take them to practice, and take them to play. Ivy and I have started daily ball handling drills. So far it’s fun and she’s enjoying it. I hope it continues.

    Give the right priority to your kids without dominating them.

    “The Savior, of course, was a great consultant. He guided people in working out their own problems. He answered questions with questions or with parables. He made people think, encouraging them to draw their own conclusions.”

    “Joseph Smith, in one of his most profound and thought-provoking statements, said, “I teach [the people] correct principles and they govern themselves.” To a surprising degree, this works even with small children.”

    Consultantship Summary:

    • “I am a consultant to them. I let them explore, experience, discover, I watch for teaching moments and respond to questions but try not to manage or dictate what the do any more than I have to.
    • “I teach them principles and try to be an example of each principle I teach.”

    Calmness-Consistency-Congruence:

    Calmness

    When speaking of Mr. Rogers, “It is because he is so calm that it makes them (kids) feel calm.”

    “Anything connected with the Savior or His words carries a feeling of peace.”

    “Nothing works better in calming down a child than telling her about a time when you felt the same way.”

    “Probably the most important key to calmness is that the father have calmness as his conscious goal. Whatever your other objectives for the moment…try to maintain a second objective which is always the same: ‘Keep a calm, pleasant spirit whenever you are with them.’”

    Consistency

    “Erratic behavior, on the other hand, upsets children and makes them insecure.”

    “Things that are consistent in a family become traditions. Children gain security and calmness from things that don’t change, things they can depend on.”

    Congruence

    “There is a difference between an uncontrolled temper and righteous indignation. There is also a difference between real calmness and artificially-contained fury.

    “Christ often taught through righteous indignation. When His apostles made mistakes and should have known better, He reproved them sharply, and they felt His love through His wanting them to be better. Two things distinguished His anger. First, it was always directed at what they did, never at them. Second, it was controlled, never out of control.” (John tells us that Christ braided a whip before driving the money-changers from the temple.)

    “You change your children for the better only as you change yourself for the better.”

    Importance of setting a good example:

    1. “We were having a hard time getting the two older girls to practice the violin consistently. After weeks of nagging and pushing, I had a better idea. I got out my old cello and started practicing each morning before breakfast. Within a week, the girls were practicing, too.
    2. “Josh’s room was always a disaster. I had tried to explain how much better and more peaceful he would feel if he kept it straight, but with no results. One day I brought him into my room, which needed cleaning, and sat him down to watch. While I cleaned, I talked about how nice it would make me feel. I showed him that I enjoyed having it straight. I explained what pride meant and that I was proud of my room. About then, he disappeared. When I finished I peeked into his room. He was cleaning feverishly, with a contented smile on his face.”

    Calmness-Consistency-Congruence Summary:

    • “I’m calm in the presence of my children. They feel my calmness and respond to it.”
    • “I’m consistent with my children in discipline, in being responsive to their questions, and in doing certain things they can depend on.”
    • “My feelings and behavior with my children are congruent. I let them see my real emotions, but they are always in control. If I get more angry than ‘righteous indignation’ would allow, I apologize to them.”

    That last part is something I take pride in. If I make a mistake (hurt my child, lose my temper, yell, am unfair, am unreasonable, etc), I will apologize to my girls. I think it’s extremely important that they see and hear me apologize when I make a mistake.

    Concentration:

    “Children need two kinds of confidence. One is the security-confidence of being part of a family institution. The other is the individual-confidence of liking themselves, of being unique, of knowing there are certain things they do well.”

    Ways to focus on each child as an individual:

    1. Daddy Dates
      • Each child has a “daddy date book” which is nothing more than a note book in which she keeps memories of each date – – a ticket stub or a program.
    2. Clubs
      • With the eldest daughter, who loves books, she has “the Library Discussion Group.” With a six-year-old son, who is very mechanically minded, he has “The Fixers Club” (whenever something breaks, the two of them try to fix it together). These clubs not only give each child a special and unique relationship with their dad; they also provide a vehicle for close communication. The father says he learns far more about his boy in their talks while “fixing things” than in any more formal “interview.”
    3. Husband-Wife Reviews
      • Go on a date once a month where the topic of discussion is each child, how they’re progressing, and their needs.
    4. Interviews
      • Meet with children once a week to talk about their week and their goals for the upcoming week.
    5. Ten-second Focus and Taking them Along.
      • Another father I want to tell you about says he’s too busy for any routines such as those listed above. He says that whenever he tries a “daily program” or a “weekly interview” something comes up and he feels guilty for not following it. His method, therefore, for giving his children individual attention is quite different. First, no matter how busy he is, he finds at least one moment a day (sometimes only a few seconds) to interact directly with each child. He focuses all his attention on that child, perhaps for just one question: “How did that math test go?” Second, this father takes one of his children with him whenever it is possible.

    The last part is something I put extra effort into doing even though it’s so much more work. Going to the store? Which (or all) of my girls can I take with me? Visiting someone from church? Who is coming with me? Meeting with the missionaries and someone interested in our church? One of my girls is coming along. That last one often happens and for any “distraction” having a young child with me causes I think is more than made up for by cuteness.

    “One help in a large family is for the father to make a point of privately telling each child how important his individual place in the family is. “You are the oldest and your example means so much to the others.” “You are the youngest daughter and we’ll always have a special love for you.” “You’re our blondie.”

    “As you begin to feel that you know the unique strengths and gifts of a particular child, it is a good exercise to write out a description of that child which includes each gift. The writing helps you focus real attention on that child. (The reading, out loud to the child, improves her confidence both in herself and in your love for and interest in her.)

    “Perhaps the best way to learn how to treat a child as an individual is to pray about each one, to ask the Lord to reveal to you their strengths and to tell you how to communicate fully and individually with each one.”

    Concentration – Summary

    • “Each of my children is unique. I appreciate separate things about each of them.
    • I find ways to be with each one alone and to talk to each one alone. I realize that each may need a different kind of communication with me.
    • I look for the unique gifts that each one has and compliment it and cultivate it.”
  • Ivy and Sage Thoughts

    Ivy and Sage Thoughts

    This would have been the fifth installment of “Ivy Thoughts” but instead we get our first “Ivy and Sage Thoughts”! Welcome to my world of two adorable daughters. Come on in.

    Let’s start with Sage since she’s new to the segment. She hasn’t started forming full sentences yet, but it’s time she became an official part of these posts.

    Sage loves the Bluey song. For those who aren’t familiar, you can click HERE.

    In the song where it yells “Mom,” “Dad,” “Bingo,” and “Bluey” Sage yells “Dad!” every time. If she hears that song she stops, stares, and yells “Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!” I enjoy her rendition of the theme song.

    Sage is off the charts shy, including around family she doesn’t get to see that often. It’s really interesting because this “shyness,” for lack of a better term, has been a part of Sage since she was a baby. When she was a baby she would sometimes start screaming and crying if someone looked at her. That has continued into her toddler-hood.

    Sage doesn’t like extra attention on her, besides from Beth and I. There was a moment where this became clear. We were doing Sage’s first birthday party at her grandparents. There were great grandparents, aunts, uncles and family there. We put a cake and candles in front of Sage. We sang happy birthday to her. What would normally be a dream come true, a whole cake in front of her, turned quickly to a nightmare when we finished singing and she looked around at all this mass amount of love and attention on her. Sage burst into tears. The collective attention and singing was too much for her to take.

    We’ve seen my family four weekends in the last 6 weeks. Every time we see my family Sage needs at least 24 hours to warm up. She will not go near anyone, gets upset if she gets picked up (or even looked at), and is excessively shy. She will cling to Beth or myself, often laying her head on our shoulder or snuggling her face into our arm to avoid anyone looking at her.

    What’s interesting about this is Sage is the outgoing one between her and Ivy. Sage is wild and crazy and outgoing when comfortable. But if there are strangers around, she gets quiet and closes in on herself. I think I’m like this. It’s interesting how our characteristics are passed onto our children and how some things are just built into us, even as babies. Sage is shy and reserved the same way I was always shy and reserved growing up.

    This past weekend when we were with my family it was fascinating watching Sage’s transformations. At one point Sage was sitting on my lap outside. My mom was in a chair across from us. Sage was snuggling next to me and being her normal (for this weekend) shy, quiet, timid self with my mom nearby. My mom got up to walk inside. The second she was gone Sage stood up and started laughing and screaming and playing. It was an instant transformation. She loves my family once she warms up. Once she warms up she’s crazy and laughing and playing, but until then she is terrified of any outside attention coming her way.

    Sage has inherited plenty of nicknames already. Some of her nicknames include Sagey Sunshine, Sagerific, Rif, Rific, Sage Laura, Roo, and Smudge. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. That’s to say nothing of the dozens and dozens of nicknames Ivy has given her.

    One last special Sage moment that I think exemplifies strong second child. I dropped Ivy and Sage off at school recently. This was out of the ordinary as Beth usually takes them to school and Ivy was letting it be known this was not in routine. She was crying, saying she was sick, and making a big hubub. While Ivy was melting down I set all our stuff down – snacks for the school for the day, draw bags of washed sheets, lunch boxes, and waters. The teacher patiently gathered all our stuff while I consoled Ivy. Sage meanwhile had walked in through the first gate and was waiting to be let in to go play. The teacher was holding Ivy’s lunch box and looking around. “Where is Sage’s lunchbox?” She asked looking all over the place. I looked around too. It was just there. Sage walked back from the second gate and pointed on the shelf where she had set her lunchbox. She then turned around with a complete, “See the people I have to deal with?” look on her face as she waited to be let in to school to start playing.

    Now onto some classic Ivy thoughts.

    After getting home late from grandparents’ home one night, I asked Ivy for a hug and a kiss. She gave me a big hug then she got her face really close to mine and said, “sticker time,” patted her chest and said, “Ivy tired” and got into bed. Still not sure what sticker time meant or was referring to.

    Ivy flushed a toy down the toilet. I told her if she did that again the toilet would break and we’d need to go to the store when we needed to go to the bathroom. She seemed perplexed about this and continued to ask questions. I emphasized that flushing things down the toilet could break the toilet. “I break the house?” She asked. Seizing the opportunity to potentially get her to understand the severity of flushing something down the toilet I replied, “Yes, flushing toys down the toilet could break the whole house.” This had a big impact. She proceeded to tell Beth that she was worried she was going to break the house.

    The next day we were at church. Beth took Ivy to the bathroom. Ivy looked up at Beth and said, “If I flush a toy down the toilet, I break the church?” Beth told me later, that time I caught Ivy flushing a toy down the toilet was the second straight day Ivy had flushed something down the toilet at home. Beth hadn’t told me because she didn’t want me to freak out. Well, now Ivy is convinced our house is going to collapse into a pile of rubble if she flushes anything besides toilet paper down the toilet. She hasn’t put anything in the toilet since. Parenting win.

    Ivy really doesn’t like crane flies. They freak her out. We explained to Ivy that crane flies aren’t bad. They’re actually pretty good because they don’t bother people, but they eat the little bugs that annoy us. Ivy said, “They kill little bugs?” “Yes,” we replied. “They don’t kill people?” That made us laugh. “No,” we explained, “they don’t even hurt people.” Ivy said, “I’m glad they don’t kill people.”

    There’s a toy I grew up with called Playmobil. They’re little figures that I played with nonstop. I still love Playmobil. Ivy has the same love of them and they are all she plays with when we visit Grandma and Grandpa Q’s house in Las Vegas. Ivy has the same love of order that I do and can spend hours lining them up in orderly groups.

    These little figures have plastic hair pieces that click into their heads. When a Playmobil figure is missing its hair its head becomes bowl-like. The top of their head basically becomes a hole. Ivy saw a Playmobil figure without its hair once and exclaimed, “Oh no! He has a hole in his head. Let me see the hole in your head.” I showed Ivy the spot in the back of my head where hair still doesn’t completely grow. “Awww,” she said sympathetically.

    Before one more heartwarming story, I’ll share a full on threenager moment. This morning Ivy got out of bed and came out of her room. I was just about to walk out the door. Ivy does the cutest thing right now. She walks out and says, “Good morning, Dad, Cory is here” (new alias, Cory Matthews from Boy Meets World).

    I said, “Good morning, Cory, come give me a hug before I leave for work.”

    She walked over and said, “A hug and a big smooch.”

    She hugged and kissed my leg. I put my arm around her and patted her head. She started to walk away then came back and did it again. I again patted her head. She started to walk away then came back again. Same process. I started to think she was broken when on the fourth return walk she said, with feirce anger in her eyes, “No, no, no, Dad, don’t touch my head.” So I didn’t touch her head this time and she hugged my leg, gave it a kiss, and walked away. Then she turned around and looked at me and said, “When you touch my head my hair gets so so so crazy! Don’t pat my head, Dad!” She was holding back tears as she walked to our room to say good morning to Beth. As she walked into our room she slammed our door. The teenage years are going to be great, I can feel it.

    But to balance that, let’s end with a heartwarming Ivy moment. Ivy recently hugged me one night and looked up at me and said, “You’re the best, Dad.”

    I love being a dad.

  • 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.