Eleven is Heaven

I won't waste time going on and on, as I usually do, about how absolutely unbelievable it is to me that my baby boy is yet another year older. The way the years fly by never ceases to amaze me, and if I dwell on it too much, I'm gonna get all sad -- so, I'll just focus on the joy of the day.

Nathaniel Christopher Black, the one and only, is eleven. No, it's not a misprint. Yes, he will be a deacon next year. Yes, he'll be in the 7th grade. Yeah.

This photo is a low-quality screen captured image from a video, but it's just so funny and cute I had to post it.



Nathaniel's big day started off in a dramatic way. Chris had awesome plans to make a giant chocolate chip cookie instead of a cake, so he got to work on that in the morning -- having stayed home from work sick. I thought he was using a little too much cookie dough, but it's not my place to correct martha stewart in the midst of a creation. A few minutes later, the house was full -- and I mean full -- of smoke. We're not talking a little smokey here; it was full-on smoke-inhalation-land in here. (The cookie rose up too much and over the edges of the pan, falling down onto the heating element in the bottom of the oven. It caught on fire and was pretty crazy, although Chris, the fireman, had it mostly out before I could get the camera.)



When Nathaniel got home from school that afternoon, Chris said he'd take the boys for a bike ride and for them to go get their bikes out of the garage. Sitting there in the entry way was his brand new ride, which he'd been wanting so badly.



Trying to get a skinny leg up.

What can I say? The boy loves meat, so we made him some birthday steaks! Man, were they good!!!

We told him to hold up 11 fingers, so Lindsey showed him how.

Ah, the gifts.....the best part for a kid.

Joseph lends a helping hand . . . he LOVES unwrapping gifts!

Yes, we have lost our minds . . . I don't know what else to say.

The stand-in cake -- red velvet. He seemed to like it a lot. It was delicious. He asked for a Ferrari for his birthday, so we put one on the cake. Har dee har har.

On Saturday, Nathaniel had some friends over to play Wii, which is all he needs to be happy. They had a lot of fun!

Take two on the cookie -- Chris did a great job this time around!

"You don't raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes." -- Walter M. Schirra

I love you, son. You're my hero.

What's Up

There's always so much going on, and as the world's slackest blogger, I do my utmost to be totally behind in recording all those happenings. As usual, here's a quick photo update.

One night last week I came home from class to find this sight in my room:



Chris had put Joseph to bed a couple of hours earlier and assumed he had remained there. But he was in our bed, and when Chris went in to return him to his own bed, he discovered that the boy had removed his clothes and diaper and had indeed wet my side of the bed. Ah, the joys of motherhood.

Here's something I see quite often:

We attended Nathaniel's last Cub Scout Olympics, where he did extremely well in competition. Here's the standing long jump, in which he placed 1st.

Lindsey and Joseph marching around the park.

Receiving a "big hand" for coming in 1st in an event.

Accepting the award for Best Overall in the Webelos group. Way to go, son! You rock!

Biking home after a fun morning.

All ready for church . . .



Apparently he thought he needed one more accessory.

Lindsey demonstrating some ballet moves, with Joseph's help.

With his fellow scouts at pack meeting.

Dog pile on dad!!!!

Bradley finally getting the hang of this two-wheeler thing!

This made me laugh -- check out Nathaniel in the background.

Sister Cox came to visit Mel, and we got to spend some time with her.

Mel will hate this picture, but I thought it was so cute of them. And look how skinny Mel is!

Getting a bath in the sink is no fun.

Busy life as always, but we're having fun!

What I Need To Learn Today

The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture [of my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of a swingset on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. -- Anna Quindlen

I have loved this quote since I first read it a few years ago, and I've been thinking so much about this very concept, as I must admit I do very often . . . especially lately, after discussing it a few times with a good friend.

This sentiment describes me perfectly, and it scares me to admit that. I am often so caught up in the "getting it done" that I miss out completely on the moments, moments that are fleeting by so fast I can't even believe it.

I need order to function. I don't do well in chaos, like when the house is a mess or the kids are running around like crazy. I am a much happier mom when things are in place. But, I need to learn some balance. It's not going to matter to me that the house was always clean when my kids are grown up and gone. Of course, the house has to be kept clean, but I can find creative ways to make sure that happens without being all nuts about it -- and making those I live with nuts as well.

What I need is to be more conscious of what I'm doing and saying. I need to stop thinking about all the things I need or want to be as a mother and start doing them! What's so hard about it?

Julie Beck, Relief Society General President has said that "mothers [who know] plan for the future of their organization," which to me means consciously creating the home environment I so desperately want and my children so desperately need. This means more bearing of testimony, more teaching the Gospel, more inviting the Spirit, more hugs and kisses, more kind words.

Sometimes I lie in bed and cry, thinking about the time to come, when these wonderful little people I am privileged to mother are no longer little. Chris teases me, saying I shouldn't waste the time I have now worrying about something that is so far in the future . . . but I know it's not really that far away. Every night I pray that Heavenly Father will help me grow as they grow, to help me prepare for that inevitable time in the not-so-distant future when I will no longer have them here, within my grasp, all day every day.

There is nothing so remarkable as the indescribable joy that comes with being a mother, which of course necessitates the agonizing pain that must be risked in order to experience it. I'm thankful for that opposition, even when it hurts.

Today I pledge to enjoy the moment more, and hopefully a little more every day. I will spend more time cuddling and kissing and whispering and less time vacuuming, washing, and worrying. What else really matters?

The Cutest Little Broken Foot Ever

If you haven't heard our news, yes, Joseph has a broken foot. There are two possible scenarios, and I -- the mother of the year -- am ashamed to say I don't know exactly when the break occured.

We were at the park on Thursday, when Joseph went down the slide and landed hard -- another child came down on top of him, since he didn't get up right away, and he was complaining of pain . . . for all of 15 seconds, after which he went running off like everything was fine. That evening, he fell off the couch and landed kinda funny, and was complaining again. But once again, he returned to normal play almost immediately, and we thought nothing of it.

The next day, he winced a little when I put his shoe on, but I didn't see anything wrong with his foot, and he kept on playing hard all day. At bedtime, as I was putting on his pajamas, I noticed his foot was bruised and swollen. Chris took him to the doctor, and they were sent over to the hospital for x-rays. Sure enough, he had a small fracture and would need a cast.

Again, I don't know why this photo is sideways -- I flipped it in the edit, but oh well. The break is so tiny you can't really see it in the pictures, but it's on the outside foot bone, near the top of the tarsal.



When he and Chris got home Friday night, with the foot neatly splinted, Joseph ran around the house and played football. He was feeling no pain, thanks in part to the motrin he was on.




Relaxing on the couch, chocolate milk in hand. The baby doll got checked out by the doctor as well -- Joseph explained that the doll had an owie on his foot too, and both had their feet wrapped.



Today we took him to get his cast. I took photos of the bruising and swelling, although you can't see it very well. But isn't his foot so cute!??!

He was very somber during the casting. He sat quite still and was the perfect patient. I was a little afraid of a repeat of the day Lindsey got her cast on (at 18 months), when I got so queasy and light-headed that they had to put me on a table before I passed out. Luckily, Joseph and I were both fine, with no crying or fainting from either of us.

He pointed out all the numbers on the paper. Smarty-pants.

The boy with one blue shoe.

Watching "The Little Mermaid" on TV.

A cast on a baby is the saddest and cutest thing there is. Good thing he's such a little tough guy.