Wednesday July 19, 1995 Lark is 2 1/2 years old
Dear Lark,
You are so cute. In about six weeks you will be three.
Tonight you lifted a bicycle pump over your head with one arm and you said, "me muscles".
A little later you raided the fridge for blueberries and you said, "purple apples".
You are drawing on a paper as I write and you are saying, "This big eye, my doll face, my doll beautiful, picture mouth, here's nose, that big ears." You give it to me saying, "picture you". Meaning "Hear's a picture for you."
You know this is your journal.
(Lark later scribbled lots of blue strokes in the space at the bottom of the page. She also put small scribbles of blue, yellow, and pink over my entry. This is her way of making a journal entry).
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Tantrum Thoughts
Sunday February 12, 1995 Lark is 2 1/2 years old.
Dear Lark,
I am nursing you as I write this. You have not been feeling well for the past several hours.
One evening last week you had nursed yourself to sleep in our bed. Daddy had moved you to your bed and you woke up. You were very upset about being moved. But if we came and got you we would be rewarding your tantrum. So we lay and listened to you cry in your bed. Finally you got out of your bed and then continued your fit in our doorway. I was waiting for you to come to me on your own. Finally Daddy called you and you crawled back in with us.
I was thinking how at some future day you might find yourself in a situation that was making you unhappy. You might be a bit unclear as to how you happened to be in that situation -- or you might know. You might "throw a spiritual tantrum." But you must remember that sometimes Heavenly Father waits for us to come to Him. He may call in some way (like Daddy did) through the scriptures or a prophet or a person. But you must draw near to Him yourself to be comforted and helped.
You are watching me write this and I wonder if someday an older you will be helped by this experience and insight.
You can be very loving and I enjoy holding you. I enjoy your laugh -- your glee.
Love, Mom
Sunday November 21, 2010 Lark is 18 years old.
Dear Lark,
You have been such a strength to me through the years. It is funny that I wrote that little message to you when you were just two. In fact it has been ME, not you, who has had the spiritual tantrums. Well, to be honest, I've had many tantrums of all sorts. And I have had to call on the Lord to help me. You have often reminded me to do this. You are all sweetness and light to me. The Lord has figuratively taken me into his arms and comforted me, instructed me, guided me, forgiven me, healed me, and loved me.
Dear Lark,
I am nursing you as I write this. You have not been feeling well for the past several hours.
One evening last week you had nursed yourself to sleep in our bed. Daddy had moved you to your bed and you woke up. You were very upset about being moved. But if we came and got you we would be rewarding your tantrum. So we lay and listened to you cry in your bed. Finally you got out of your bed and then continued your fit in our doorway. I was waiting for you to come to me on your own. Finally Daddy called you and you crawled back in with us.
I was thinking how at some future day you might find yourself in a situation that was making you unhappy. You might be a bit unclear as to how you happened to be in that situation -- or you might know. You might "throw a spiritual tantrum." But you must remember that sometimes Heavenly Father waits for us to come to Him. He may call in some way (like Daddy did) through the scriptures or a prophet or a person. But you must draw near to Him yourself to be comforted and helped.
You are watching me write this and I wonder if someday an older you will be helped by this experience and insight.
You can be very loving and I enjoy holding you. I enjoy your laugh -- your glee.
Love, Mom
Sunday November 21, 2010 Lark is 18 years old.
Dear Lark,
You have been such a strength to me through the years. It is funny that I wrote that little message to you when you were just two. In fact it has been ME, not you, who has had the spiritual tantrums. Well, to be honest, I've had many tantrums of all sorts. And I have had to call on the Lord to help me. You have often reminded me to do this. You are all sweetness and light to me. The Lord has figuratively taken me into his arms and comforted me, instructed me, guided me, forgiven me, healed me, and loved me.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Julia's first journal
January 1st, 2001 Julia is 3 1/2 years old.
Dear Julia,
You are so wonderful. We watched a movie last night about two missionaries finding a family to teach and baptise. After it was over we talked about Uncle Bill being baptised last Friday night. Then you said Dad baptised Lark the same way. You noticed, understood, and made those connections on your own!
We've been busy cleaning house. While we've been doing that you squeezed out about 1/3 cup of glue. Luckily Lark saw you and luckily it was in a plastic container we could throw away. You also rubber stamped your arm with a red-ink Christmas tree stamp.
You will hardly eat anything but candy and chocolate. You are very adept at finding anyone's chocolate. You do like eating meat and drinking a commercially-made sweet carrot juice.
Daddy ran a bath for you tonight (you insisted). He observed that you washed yourself all over with your new scrubbie. While he was doing that I was putting away yours and Lark's laundry. I remarked that it was time to go to bed and you said you didn't want to. I said if you went to bed now I would tuck you in. You got right under the covers for that. Then you said we needed to read the scriptures. So we all gathered in your room, chatted about the upcoming week and read scriptures and had family prayer. By then you were asleep.
(On these journal pages I traced Julia's hands. I drew an arrow to her right hand thumb with the note "Julia sucks this thumb". On the first page of this journal Julia made a journal entry in her own three-year-old cursive writing.
Between this date and October 2002 she made twelve more pages of various attempts at cursive writing. She traced around her hands seven times. She made twenty pages of drawings.)
I made a second entry in this journal on October 8, 2002. Julia was 4 1/2 years old.
Dear Julia,
Sometimes I read to myself at night before going to sleep. Since Daddy works at night you sometimes join me. While I am reading you draw in this journal. I confess I haven't paid much attention to how much you've drawn or what you've drawn. I now wish I had so I could interview you about each picture, write your comments, and put your age and the date.
Love, Mom
Beneath this entry Julia printed "I like being me. Julia"
On the next page Julia wrote I I I I I ! ! ! ! ! i i i i i and then filled every line on this and the facing page tracing each line.
On the next page (alas, undated) she wrote possibly her first story. Here it is:
Hello. My name is Magic. I am in a world of cats. And here's how it began. Mom woke me up today with a loud meow. Mom said, "Get up. Today is your special day." She was right. I went to my friend's house. Thunder and Lightning.
(Thunder is the name of Trina's cat and Lightning is the name of Lark's cat).
There are no more entries in this journal.
Dear Julia,
You are so wonderful. We watched a movie last night about two missionaries finding a family to teach and baptise. After it was over we talked about Uncle Bill being baptised last Friday night. Then you said Dad baptised Lark the same way. You noticed, understood, and made those connections on your own!
We've been busy cleaning house. While we've been doing that you squeezed out about 1/3 cup of glue. Luckily Lark saw you and luckily it was in a plastic container we could throw away. You also rubber stamped your arm with a red-ink Christmas tree stamp.
You will hardly eat anything but candy and chocolate. You are very adept at finding anyone's chocolate. You do like eating meat and drinking a commercially-made sweet carrot juice.
Daddy ran a bath for you tonight (you insisted). He observed that you washed yourself all over with your new scrubbie. While he was doing that I was putting away yours and Lark's laundry. I remarked that it was time to go to bed and you said you didn't want to. I said if you went to bed now I would tuck you in. You got right under the covers for that. Then you said we needed to read the scriptures. So we all gathered in your room, chatted about the upcoming week and read scriptures and had family prayer. By then you were asleep.
(On these journal pages I traced Julia's hands. I drew an arrow to her right hand thumb with the note "Julia sucks this thumb". On the first page of this journal Julia made a journal entry in her own three-year-old cursive writing.
Between this date and October 2002 she made twelve more pages of various attempts at cursive writing. She traced around her hands seven times. She made twenty pages of drawings.)
I made a second entry in this journal on October 8, 2002. Julia was 4 1/2 years old.
Dear Julia,
Sometimes I read to myself at night before going to sleep. Since Daddy works at night you sometimes join me. While I am reading you draw in this journal. I confess I haven't paid much attention to how much you've drawn or what you've drawn. I now wish I had so I could interview you about each picture, write your comments, and put your age and the date.
Love, Mom
Beneath this entry Julia printed "I like being me. Julia"
On the next page Julia wrote I I I I I ! ! ! ! ! i i i i i and then filled every line on this and the facing page tracing each line.
On the next page (alas, undated) she wrote possibly her first story. Here it is:
Hello. My name is Magic. I am in a world of cats. And here's how it began. Mom woke me up today with a loud meow. Mom said, "Get up. Today is your special day." She was right. I went to my friend's house. Thunder and Lightning.
(Thunder is the name of Trina's cat and Lightning is the name of Lark's cat).
There are no more entries in this journal.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Happiness Machine
Monday, November 1, 2010 Julia is thirteen years old.
Yesterday began at 29 degrees--cold enough to coat windshields with ice with an attitude. By afternoon the sun banished any hint of autumn chill. On my lunch hour from work I invited my teenage daughter to join me on a late after-noon walk. She readily agreed, so we set off together on our usual route.
We walk a block out of our little neighborhood to the main road. We are on the outskirts of town so after walking past several homes with large yards we come to large barns surrounded by heavy farm equipment. We pass a small corral which is home to two horses and sometimes some goats. The road becomes a small incline. There are no sidewalks here. We pass a large ditch which always has water in it. We cross a busier access road. This is our favorite part of the walk.
Julia stopped us here and said that her happiness machine would include this moment. To the east we could see uphill in the distance past acres of fields the neighborhood where we lived the previous three years and the temple just to the north. The sky was blue with little white cotton-puff clouds hovering about. We turned and looked west where very far off are low mountain ranges. We listened to the stillness, and then to a solitary car passing. We noticed the delicate breeze. We absorbed the autumn colors and textures -- the various trees that line the road, converging in the distance. There is a round silo with a funnel-like roof that is a perfect contrast to the many bales of hay stack behind it.
Yesterday began at 29 degrees--cold enough to coat windshields with ice with an attitude. By afternoon the sun banished any hint of autumn chill. On my lunch hour from work I invited my teenage daughter to join me on a late after-noon walk. She readily agreed, so we set off together on our usual route.
We walk a block out of our little neighborhood to the main road. We are on the outskirts of town so after walking past several homes with large yards we come to large barns surrounded by heavy farm equipment. We pass a small corral which is home to two horses and sometimes some goats. The road becomes a small incline. There are no sidewalks here. We pass a large ditch which always has water in it. We cross a busier access road. This is our favorite part of the walk.
Julia stopped us here and said that her happiness machine would include this moment. To the east we could see uphill in the distance past acres of fields the neighborhood where we lived the previous three years and the temple just to the north. The sky was blue with little white cotton-puff clouds hovering about. We turned and looked west where very far off are low mountain ranges. We listened to the stillness, and then to a solitary car passing. We noticed the delicate breeze. We absorbed the autumn colors and textures -- the various trees that line the road, converging in the distance. There is a round silo with a funnel-like roof that is a perfect contrast to the many bales of hay stack behind it.
Monday, November 1, 2010
An Unwelcome Diaper Change
Wednesday February 8, 1995 Lark is two years old.
Dear Lark,
You're quite upset with me.
I've been home for lunch this hour. You played with two icecubes a few moments. Then you wanted something else and I couldn't understant what.
I noticed you're still wearing your clothes from yesterday and your diaper from last night. You didn't want to change. I slipped your diaper off. After crying on your bed a few minutes you brought me a clean diaper. You like to apply your own vaseline and powder, so I let you. You want to fasten the diaper too, but I did that while you were putting the lid on the vaseline (which you also insisted on doing). I asked if you'd like to choose something to wear. You didn't. I left you crying and now you've stopped.
Two is hard for you.
You have crawled into my bed under my covers and fallen asleep.
Dear Lark,
You're quite upset with me.
I've been home for lunch this hour. You played with two icecubes a few moments. Then you wanted something else and I couldn't understant what.
I noticed you're still wearing your clothes from yesterday and your diaper from last night. You didn't want to change. I slipped your diaper off. After crying on your bed a few minutes you brought me a clean diaper. You like to apply your own vaseline and powder, so I let you. You want to fasten the diaper too, but I did that while you were putting the lid on the vaseline (which you also insisted on doing). I asked if you'd like to choose something to wear. You didn't. I left you crying and now you've stopped.
Two is hard for you.
You have crawled into my bed under my covers and fallen asleep.
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