THAT Kid

I've come to realize something. My son is that kid.

You know the one.

The kid who can't quite fit in. The kid who makes funny noises and faces on purpose. The kid who enjoys being annoying. The kid who takes things just a little bit too far--every time. The kid who never gets invited to birthday parties (Scratch that. He's actually going to one next week, thanks to a very kind boy with a very kind mom.). The kid who never gets picked to be on anyone's team, in anyone's group, or anyone's partner, for anything. The kid, much like Anthony H. in my 5th grade class, with whom NO ONE wanted to square dance. The kid that, 28 years later, everyone will remember not wanting to dance with. The kid who has forevermore ruined any teacher's (or classmate's) chances of naming his or her child with that same name, due to the haunting memories (sorry, Anthony--I just couldn't do it). The kid whose brain is a sieve when it comes to multiplication facts, but a steel trap when it comes to quoting stupid movies and inappropriate radio songs (Ke$ha and Kid Rock, you are not my friends). The kid who could be Joey. The kid who gets so emotional about the tiniest of things that other kids just have to stop and stare, mouths agape in wonder. The kid who doesn't realize he is being teased or dared into doing something stupid, just for the entertainment value. The kid who will always have those kinds of friends, because they can simultaneously understand one another perfectly and get on each other's nerves. The kid whose signs need to be held to try to prove I am a decent mother. The kid whose own older brother will not tolerate or defend. The kid whose lack of friends and social skills is written down in permanent text on his school record, making his mother cry yet again in another IEP meeting.

But...

He is also the kid who brings much spice and humor to our family. The kid who is the most compassionate when someone is hurt or sad. The kid who is the most contrite and sincerely apologetic. The kid who jumped to his sister's aid in her moment of crisis. The kid who hugged an elderly stranger in an elevator, just because. The kid who, in the very middle of an emotional meltdown of epic proportions, saw tears rolling down my face and stopped to ask me what was wrong (What the? Were you not just here???). The kid who plays Pokemon with his younger brother and sister and never tires of it. The kid who has movies playing constantly in his head. The kid who can imitate anything he sees. The kid who can walk into a room and know immediately who is a good guy, and who is a bad guy. The kid who makes me grateful for mornings after emotionally stormy nights, because he is so forgiving. The kid who made me a much better mother because of the struggle. The kid who will make a great adult. The kid who I know FOR SURE was supposed to come to our family. The kid who can be so attuned to the Holy Ghost and spiritual things and places that his entire demeanor changes. The kid who reminds me that the Spirit's influence is absolutely real, and so is God. The kid who is walking evidence that God knows us personally and will help us through anything.

Yin/Yang, I guess. It's the story of his (and my) life.

Yes, he is that kid. And for better and worse, he is mine.

Jell-O

Some people say that children are like blank slates, ready for us parents to etch upon their lives the most important lessons.

Other people say that children are like sponges, soaking up everything around them as they learn about the world.

I say children are like Jell-O, and I'll tell you why. (Pretend you see "TM" every time you see that brand name, okay?)

(See, I picked green because I'm a Mormon. It's an inside joke.)

One of my children is like Jell-O that refuses come out of the mold. Her mold is safe and secure. Don't mess with her mold. She'll come out when she's good and ready, alright?

Another of my children melts into a puddle of warm Jell-O on the floor when things don't go her way. I wonder which flavor is the most dramatic...

Talking to my teenage boy is like trying to nail Jell-O to the wall. (I borrowed that one. It's so perfect, though!)

My youngest child is like the Jell-O that won't set up. Constantly moving, and I am constantly redirecting. Wait! He was just here! Where did he go?

My spicy boy is like green Jell-O with shredded carrots in it. What the heck is going on inside that one, and who decided that was a good combination???

Most of the time, getting my kids out the door on time is like pushing Jell-O up the stairs. It's just as messy and uncooperative as you are imagining.

Thankfully, I have one boy who is like Jell-O Jigglers all. the. time. Giggly and delightful, easily moldable, and doesn't mind uneven (hair)cuts. He still even lets me hold him. Everyone loves Jell-O Jigglers!

The great thing about Jell-O is that it comes in many different varieties, and they are all sweet. Give it the right conditions and the right amount of time, and every flavor tastes great. So what if sometimes it won't come out of the mold? So what if it doesn't set up? Come on. We all know Jell-O is not supposed to be a wall decoration anyway. And the green Jell-O with carrots? I know for sure my uncle likes it.* It's all good.

So are my children. Give them enough time and the right conditions, they'll turn out just fine. (Please?)

*In 2000, my grandmother passed away, and afterward there was a family meal served at the church by some ladies in her congregation. It's a very Mormon thing to do. Anyway, My uncle was in front of my brother and me in the food line and he exclaimed, "Ooh, they have green salad!" My brother looked and looked, and not a single lettuce leaf was to be found. Instead there was a very lovely, green Jell-O "salad" on display. Only in Utah, folks. Only in Utah.

One more thing...I even have a brain Jell-O mold. So, if you ever need a Halloween treat, let me know.

Help for Katie

Sometimes life seems unfair, especially when it doesn't play by our rules. But on the flip side, these unfair times can bring out the best in all of us and show us what we're really made of.

I am a stamper, as in, I make handmade cards with stamps and paper and all kinds of goodies. Surprisingly enough, there is a very tight-knit stamping community on the web, whom I have found to be incredibly generous and kind. I have seen such grace and generosity from people who live in all corners of the world, and whom I will probably never meet.

Today I'd like to direct your attention to Jak Heath's blog. She is having a digital stamp fundraiser for our friend and fellow stamper, Katie Renz, who was just recently diagnosed with stage 4 gastric cancer. She has 3 young children, and is far too young and vibrant herself to be going through such difficulties! You can read Katie's own words here. And check Jak's blog and digi stamp collection here.

We can't change the whole world all at once, but we can have tremendous influence for good in our own little corners, doing something within the realm of our own abilities, one person at a time. By small and simple things, great things come to pass.

We can all find some small way to help a friend.

Christmas letter

May I present to you our Christmas card and letter for 2010:

Yes, we really sent this out. The card actually said,

"Feliz Navidad! From your favorite luchadores, the family"

Enjoy!

Family Firsts in 2010

-First year since 1995 that we are diaper-free, crib-free, sippy cup-free and nap-free. Free at last, free at last!

-First time since 2002 the Jewkes family was not mentioned in a Christmas letter. Wait a minute...

-First cruise to Mexico with Cheryl's parents and siblings.

-First realization that cruise ships would go bankrupt if only Mormons were on board.

-First time parasailing and riding on a zip line through the Mexican jungle, which wins first prize for the most fun activity in the world.

-First time anyone ever haggled for eight luchador masks.

-First time in 15 years for Cheryl to be home alone twice a week. Daughter #2 is concerned for my welfare. “What in the world will you do with yourself?”

-First time travel for Cheryl--a solo trip to Colorado to see college friends and to California for a really big-numbered high school reunion.

-First year writing a snarky mommy blog: yepallmine.blogspot.com (NOT the first time being a snarky mom).

-First time convincing three kids with March birthdays to go to Busch Gardens instead of having birthday parties. Last time I do that.

-First discovery of a new body part by #5. "Mom, did you know that 'process' means a private part? When we were doing the motions for 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes', Sister W said she hit herself in the process!"

-First professional family pictures since 2002 (sans luchador masks). If you want to see what we really look like, look really carefully in the background of our Christmas card.

-First year for Glen as HOA president (unfortunately, the preferred Vice President job was taken) and first counselor in the bishopric.

-First time a TV show has trumped Spongebob as the family favorite. We love Phineas and Ferb so much, all of the kids dressed up like the characters for Halloween. Yes, yes they did. “Hey, where's Perry?”

-First trip to Bizarro World when Glen asked Cheryl a computer question. In his defense, it was regarding Facebook.

-First 11-day weekend during Snowmageddon II.

-First time #2 said, “I think I'm ready to go back to school now.” and “Maybe we shouldn't play so many electronics today.” Which makes it the second trip to Bizarro World.

-First time no one had school picture retakes. Not because the pics were good, but because I just don't care anymore. How hard is it to say, “Hey kid--you have pizza sauce on your chin. Wipe the sauce and the goofy grin off your face.”???

-First time intercepting a friend's 3-year-old escapee, armed with cookies. He came to our home all by himself to share with “Sister Nudie”.

Girl (15, tenth grade) -First family member to own an actual weapon since Grandpa's Red Ryder BB gun. Move over Robin Hood. She can shoot a mean arrow! -First time standing up on water skis -First one awake every morning -First driver's permit (aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!) -First time playing tennis on the high school team -First time since age 2 she made it past 5% on the growth chart. She finally passed five feet tall!		Boy (13, eighth grade) -First child to grow as tall as Mom and have shoes bigger than Dad's -First Class Scout promoted to Life Scout -First time for Peter Brady to take up residence with us (although not the last). Sing it with me, “When it's time to change...” -First kid in braces -First year voluntarily singing in chorus (and secretly loving it) -First time composing his own music (but he still hates piano)
Spicy Boy (11, sixth grade) -First child to stow away on a field trip he was not supposed to attend -First child to live and tell about it, but just barely -First eye surgery to correct crossing. We especially enjoyed the post-anesthesia delusions of grandeur—we found out he fought in WWII and personally assassinated Hitler, as well as the name of his girlfriend. -First foray into behavioral science. “Hey, Dad... I want a Christmas for DSi. See? I just used reverse psychology on you.” -First time in 8 years he no longer needs seizure medication!!!		Girl (8, third grade) -First child to giggle giddily and RUN to the font at her own baptism -First year in the Advanced Academic Center (formerly known as Gifted & Talented) -First child to wear an actual Bump-It (“Mo-om! Phineas and Ferb are making a title sequence!”) -First (and last) time guinea pig sitting
Boy (6) -First Grade -First grader who does multiplication in his head -First official lost tooth (not counting the one the dentist pulled last year) -First time playing soccer -First self-inflicted haircut... on his eyebrows		Boy (3) -First time at preschool -First child to be the youngest at 3 years old -First child to bow out of the “gimme five, up high, down low” routine with, “Uh, that's enough.” Who really needs it in space or in your face? -First bunk bed with an older brother

First in our lives: family, friends and the gospel. We are so grateful for all of you and wish you a Merry Christmas and a New Year full of your own firsts!

Love, the crazies

“Oh, there you are, Perry.”

Teacher gifts

I just read a great post about giving teacher gifts, written by a male elementary school teacher. He is pleading and imploring parents of the world to stay away from kitsch, as well as giving some really great insight into what would matter most. So if you are still trying to figure out whether that teacher mug/tie/figurine would be good, just say no.

To read the whole post, go here.

The Twelve Days of a Large Family Christmas

My niece shared a funny video about having twins, and it got me wondering if anyone else has made one about having a large family. And through the magic of the internet, voila! Welcome to my world, everyone! (This is not my family. My kids would not behave this well for this long. And although I am not Catholic, I am a Mormon...)

Pontification

I belong to a papercrafting forum where a can of worms was opened. There were lovely things said. There were awful things said. There were some who tried to make peace, and some who refused to listen. All because of one word. Lines were drawn in the sand and accusations flew, all because some clarification was needed about a proposed project which dealt with winter holidays of all religions. The intent was inclusion and celebration, but it degenerated quickly.

Here's my pontification...

My parents were in charge of a church mission in Norway in the '90's. My dad spoke Norwegian pretty well, but my mom did not. They were required to travel around the entire country, speaking to congregations of all sizes. Most people in Norway under the age of 50 speak fluent English, but of course, all of the church services are in Norwegian. My dad would always give his talks in Norwegian without a problem. It would have been perfectly acceptable for my mom to speak English, but she chose a different route. She would write her talk in English, have my dad translate it to Norwegian, and she would proceed to butcher it mercilessly as best she could.

The people adored her.

They appreciated any and all efforts of another person (especially an American) trying to learn and speak a tongue that she really didn't need to use. She endeared herself to them immediately, and they trusted her and counted her as a friend.

Contrast that situation with any number of encounters here in America where someone is less than fluent with English (which is an AWFUL language to learn!). Generally that person does not endear him or herself to any large crowds. That person is most often met with impatience and indifference, and sometimes (shamefully) hostility. It is unfair.

My point is that I hope we can all be more like the Norwegians my mom encountered, who recognize that any effort to bridge the cultural gaps should be seen as a welcoming hand of friendship. My mom lost nothing in attempting to learn something about a different group of people. On the contrary, she gained the respect of hundreds of friends, who understood that her efforts were honest. When our efforts and intentions are honest and good, it shows. Let's be kind.

That is all.