Ruby Ruby Ruby Rubyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

I can't even remember a time when we weren't celebrating Ruby's 11th birthday. January is the longest month of the year, and Ruby's birthday is practically the only gig in town, so we just keep celebrating. The 26th, Ruby's real birthday, I made her coddled eggs for breakfast. She shared with Freestone, her favorite brother (besides Ptolemy).

For lunch, Scott took Ruby to B.C. Chicken for souvlaki. Yum! Birthdays have to be all about the food. Coco and Bill brought presents that night, just before Ruby officially turned eleven...during her jazz class! We always remember that she was born at 9:10 PM Pacific Standard Time, because I said, "I'll watch Friends, then I'll push." She was obviously born before Gritman Medical Center had TiVo. Ten minutes after Friends ended, Ruby was born!

We anticipated the annual dinner at Olive Garden all week, but when Friday came, Scott suggested a change of pace. Ruby and I were already in Salt Lake for guitar, and Scott was going in for the Jazz game, so we met at Bucco de Beppi. Cute place, very kitch-y, perfect for an 11th birthday photo-op, but no camera. We would have needed a wide-angle lens for the giant tiramisu they brought for dessert. Everything there is family style, served for 2 to 3 people. The tiramisu was in a huge bowl with ridiculously large spoons. And it was gooooood! Ptolemy, who can't choke down a single bite of rice cereal, gobbled up the mascarpone like an Italian bambino!

For one last birthday celebration, we got together with the Bazails. Each kid got a "birthday" gift bag and balloon. The bags were filled with items representing all the holidays and events of the coming year. Sarah, Roland, Tricia and the boys are moving back to Miami. We're sad to see them go. This last get-together at their beautiful home in Salt Lake had to count for the rest of the year and beyond, even though they'll visit often. Right, guys?!

With tomorrow being February 1st, we'll have to say good-bye to the Month of Ruby. She's worth celebrating, but even the most worthy child has to make room in the spotlight for the next big thing. Chinese New Year and Valentines Day are waiting in the wings!

New Kids on the Block

I'm sure everyone is anxiously awaiting the verdict. (Or possibly just Jer's Jenny!) Did I get a whole batch of new kids by Friday? The short answer is yes, I think I did. Not due to changes in the kids, necessarily, but due to changes in the mom. I'll tell you what the major things I took away from the book were.

1. "Say it once, turn your back, walk away." I tried to stick with not nagging, but trusting the kids to do what I asked. If they didn't, an unforeseen consequence would take place later. "Oh, you want a friend over? That would have been fun, but remember when you didn't take out the garbage like I asked? Sorry!" Surprisingly, the kids accepted this approach.

2. "When you get angry at your kids, it is like throwing up all over them." It's harsh, but it's true. I truly believe that it harms my kids when they are the recipients of my free-floating anger. I am working on dealing with them in a way that completely excludes me throwing up hostility all over them. They don't need that, and it is not an effective parenting tool. This is a big goal for me. I know I can find a better way than anger.

3. I asked myself approximately five thousand times this week, "Is this a big deal?" Hairspray in the car...couch cushions on the floor...chanting nursery rhymes...laughing too loud...walking in the snow... so many things, I found I could let slide and have happy kids in exchange. I noticed that what I had perceived as gentle course corrections could be perceived as constant criticism by my kids. Why do I always have to be telling them what not to do when it's not a big deal? I tried to redirect my energy to listening to them rather than bossing them. Did they become completely unruly? No. They became more relaxed and cooperative, more confident that they could go about their day without someone constantly saying in effect, "You're doing that wrong. You're doing that wrong. you're doing that wrong."

If parenting were like climbing a ladder, something you get better and better at, I think I would be one step better after my efforts this week. Alas, a new complication will inevitably arise next week, and I will be at the library looking under "Self-help." Someday maybe all my bits of knowledge will coalesce into some kind of rudimentary ability to successfully raise these kids. Until then, I keep trying. Most importantly, to my offspring who read this blog, I LOVE this job! I am honored to be your mom. You are great. I love you!

Mr. Contrary

If you know Freestone, this homework assignment will make you laugh. It's so Freestone. the assignment was to write three sentences about something you like to do outside. Freestone wrote, "I hate outside. I hate everything abowt outside. But I love to ride scoodrs."

He's always been a contrary boy. When he was going through the dinosaur phase, we called him "Contraryraptor." This week, he might be feeling more contrary than usual. Freestone whined one too many times and got his video game time taken away until Friday. On day two of no video games, I caught him quietly sobbing, his hands in his pockets, looking despairingly at his empty DS charger. It can make a boy grumpy when his source of endorphins is taken away. I like this plan, though. It eliminates the frantic earning of video game time through reading and jobs. Now it's just the reading and the jobs, sans the reward. When the weekend comes, Free can play all his systems to his heart's content, and I won't feel a bit guilty. Meanwhile, I'm going to send him outside to scoodr. I'm trying to raise a kid here, not a Mario brother!

Attention, Four-Year-Olds

My most recent parenting book (still hoping for new kids by Friday! lol...) said that kids act out for attention. They're acting naughty just to get attention. "Yeah," I thought, "so how do I get them to stop acting out for attention?" The answer literally made me gasp: GIVE THEM THE ATTENTION! What?? You mean talk with them and read with them and listen to their stories in the car and watch them play? Crazy.

Today I realized that the "giving more attention" approach has actually been working with Xanthe over the past couple of months. For so long, I've been waiting for her to get big enough to do things. And for the same span of time, she has been a whiny, demanding little beggar precisely because everyone has stuff they're big enough for except her. She craved more responsibility and autonomy. Duh! I began to see how wonderful she was at school and how organized she was about it. Ballet, which she finally got big enough for, was the same thing. She will not wear a bright-colored tutu like the other little girls in her class. She has to have black, like the big kids. Today when I offered her the the fabulous blue and green leo, she said, "I need black. That one's not a-pope-weeat." Not appropriate? I'm so glad this kid is ready to be big. She might be the size of a small three-year-old, but she's maturing. It must be comforting to her to have her own responsibilities. Of course, she isn't perfect, but neither am I, and I've had 38 years to work on it!

After ballet, I had planned to drop her off at a friend's house for a playdate. Do you know what she said? "But I didn't do my practicing yet." I'd be a fool to argue with that! So the friends came over to our house instead, and waited for Xanthe to finish her piano. She just got a chart to fill in to earn her Twinkle Trophy, and she is going to get that trophy in record time. Every time she fills in a box on that chart, I can see her confidence growing.

It's so nice to be at the stage where there are such fun options for getting attention. Practicing and going to lessons and school are healthier ways of making your mark in the world than rolling around at your mom's feet, whining for a drink or screaming in the night for someone to come and straighten your blanket. I'll listen to as many Twinkle variations as it takes if we never have to go back there!

Miracles

There are miracles.

Through all the devastation and heartache, things like this are happening all over Haiti because there is a God and He is mindful of His people. It is agonizing for those whose prayers have not yet been answered, but there is a plan.

At the beginning of our adoption journey, I had strong feelings about Haiti. I really wanted to adopt from there. On a trip to Miami, we found a Haitian ward and attended church there. The people were incredibly warm and open, the beautiful children were allowed to roam the aisles. If one needed a mama, any one of the congregation would pick that child up. The meeting was all in Haitian Creole, except for the talk from the visiting Stake President. His ethnic background was Dominican, and he spoke English with a heavy Spanish accent. I don't know how any of the Creole speakers understood him, but I didn't understand 90 percent of the meeting, and I got it anyway. It was there in that meeting that I got a sense of the universal nature of Heavenly Father's plan and understood that his love transcends language and culture, and that he loves each one of us.

In an article today, I read about a Haitian woman who had lost her daughter in the hurricanes a few years ago. Her son was killed in the recent earthquake. She said, "I am scared, but I keep praying." That is a kind of strength that I can't even imagine. As we go about our daily lives today, there are tragedies and miracles swirling around the little island of Hispanola in the Caribbean Sea. There are countless prayers being offered up on behalf of a tiny nation and God's children who live there. There are planes full of aid going in, planes full of children coming out. My girls raised $118.00 selling their dolls. It's a drop in the ocean, but it helps. I saw that one family had raised ten thousand dollars for jet fuel to go to Port Au Prince to get their children and others. The plane has to be full of humanitarian aid to land in PAP, so the LDS Church is filling its hold with needed supplies. There is so much more to do, it makes you wonder, why even try? I don't know. I just think we can make a difference. And if we don't bear one another's burdens, then who are we?

Iron Chef Ruby

Ruby hasn't turned eleven yet, but the festivities have already begun. Our little sous-chef chose an Iron Chef theme for her birthday party and invited her brothers and sisters and a few friends. They divided into two teams for the Iron Chef competition. Scott's team made lasagne and my team made Chicken Phyllo casserole, one of my favorites because of the fancy phyllo dough that puffs up in layers. while the food was cooking, the girls watched the real Iron Chef and Xanthe visited Coco. Knowing the black hole of attention grabbing Xanthe can be, Coco thoughtfully invited her over. Thanks, Coco! When it was time to eat and judge the dishes, some of the girls were reluctant to try the Chicken Phyllo, so the lasagne was declared the winner. Both were delicious, but the big hit of the night was the Coca-Cola. A big deal for 5th graders! And of course, the Bumpits that Taylor gave Ruby were a big hit, too. Funny what styles come and go! I can't believe this one is serious, but what do I know? I wore a florescent pink Guess? sweatshirt in 9th grade.

After presents, each girl got to torch her own creme brulee for dessert. Ruby has always been a little foodie, appreciating the finer foods in life. Since she was three, we have been going to the Olive Garden for her birthday, at her suggestion. Never glancing at the kids' menu, she would always order a caesar salad and salmon, with tiramisu for dessert. Ruby is an old soul. Recently, I asked her what it's like to be an adult in a child's body and she told me, "It can be annoying." Ruby likes order and peace and beauty. She naturally smooths contention and looks out for the best interests of those around her. She was aptly named after my grandmother Ruby, who is and has always been a peacemaker. Ruby's friends were wonderful, and it was a fun night, planned and executed by Ruby with a little help from mom and dad.


January birthdays...Lilah, Jacob, Michelle, Ruby and Alexis
Tonight was the Dopp January birthday gathering. Scott made Winger's chicken fingers salad. Yum! After dinner, the kids ran absolutely wild in the basement, where the "big" boys blissfully ignored them, ensconced in the comforts of Scott's theater. Upstairs, the ladies had a chance to visit and have seconds of the delicious cake that Lexie made. Grandma has taught the three oldest girls in the family some cake decorating skills, and Lexie really put her skills to work on a gorgeous cake. Thanks, Lexie! Ruby and Lexie have learned to open their gifts at the same time. They know that most likely, everyone has bought the same thing for both of them. they loved all the fun art and fashion stuff they got.

Well, it wasn't a quiet weekend, but it was a good one. Happy birthday, everyone!

Friday Night Live

It's Friday night and the Dopps are scattered hither and yon. Xanthe had her excitement for the day earlier when she received a long-awaited cupcake for not waking me up in the night. I can't really begin to relate the three-year saga of Xanthe waking up and calling for me in the night, but I have tried EVERYTHING to get her to stop. Mean, nice, patient, pleading, shouting, threatening to wear a scary mask, promising stuff, trying to understand her motives, praying for strength. Finally, I resorted to Jenny's advice: a sticker chart. The dang thing worked. It took her about 10 nights to earn five stickers. Now that she's had her cupcake, we'll see if she goes for the next incentive, a Tasty donut for six stickers. (I tried fruit. she said, "But I don't need fruit.") So Xanthe is asleep, hopefully until morning.

Golda and Ruby were invited to a red-carpet Hollywood birthday party by their most glamorous cousin, Alexis. It looked like so much fun! I know Jennie has some amazing stuff planned for them tonight! Ruby was a few minutes late, changing in the car on the way from guitar. I thought she was going to go crazy getting through her group class, but she made it. Happy birthday, Lexie! We love you!

Araceli was lucky enough to be invited to a fun late-over. She and Ellison are going to make fettucine and brownies. Ari was prepared, wearing her jammies and carrying a robe, a blanket, two dolls and a big smile.

With all the girls out of the picture, I asked Freestone what he wanted to do, since he had the full attention of both parents. He said, "Play Lego Indiana Jones with Tolly." In contrast to girls, who want to flit around the kitchen doing grandes battements and tour jetes while talking your ears off until the wee hours of the night, that's easy!

Scott didn't need too much convincing to retire to his "man cave" with his favorite treat, a bag of Haribo raspberries. That leaves me to read the book I got at the library today, Have a New Kid by Friday. I told the librarian, "I'm hoping to have five new kids by Friday." She said, "You have five kids?" I was holding Ptolemy, and I answered, "I have six, but I haven't ruined this one yet." Ha ha. Really, I don't want any new kids. I love them all just as they are. I love parenting books, though, and this one looks funny. I'll see if I can learn anything new by the time they all get back...or wake me up in the night.

It's All Relative

I couldn't sleep last night. I kept imagining what I would do if my house had been leveled and I didn't have anyplace to sleep. Where would we go? What if my children's school had been destroyed and their little bodies crushed under the rubble? What if Scott were missing and feared dead, my house a pile of rubble, and I had to step over dead bodies to search for food? What if I couldn't find any food for my crying children, if I didn't have any milk for Ptolemy, if I didn't know the fate of our parents or relatives? It is hard to imagine that people just like me are facing those circumstances right now.

Here in our paradise, where we have plenty of food and water, we complain about the government, health care, traffic, the inversion. All the vitriol seems so out of place. And here we sit in heaven, a heaven that is absolutely unattainable to millions around the world. On our same planet, babies whose mothers' bodies are crushed and buried are dying of dehydration. What right, really, do we have to grumble? If nothing else, I'm trying to accept my blessings and "hardships" with humility and gratitude, accepting the responsibility of being grateful. Sadly, it's not always easy, but where much is given, much is expected.

I wish, I wish we could all go to Haiti and share our bounty. So much is being done, and we can be part of it. But we are left with an incredibly unfair amount of wealth and comfort that we have no way to share. We have to ask ourselves, what is the least I can do? As difficult as it may be, we have to try to understand how meaningless our problems would be if we were hit by a devastating earthquake, and accept our problems with dignity. Those things that would matter if the sum of our lives' work lay in ruins, that is what we can try to focus on today, and that is a start.

I tend to get all wound up in the mornings and often send my precious little ones out the door carrying my angst that they get there on time and with their work done and in their backpacks. This morning, I managed to send them with love, knowing that if their school were crushed to ruins, the knowledge that I love them would be more valuable to Freestone, Araceli and Ruby than the knowledge that I wanted them to hurry that morning.

We here in paradise have been blessed beyond measure while others haven't. Not having any right to complain is tough, but it's an easier burden to bear than that of the Haitian people today.

Baby Sitting

The other day, Ptolemy's friend Camden came over and sat down next to Ptolemy to play. That's right. He SAT, and he's only four months old! Tolly is six months old and sitting hasn't even occurred to him. Neither has sleeping through the night, eating solids or rolling over. The lazy little chub just wants to be carried around to socialize by day and hang out sipping lattes at the 24-hour breastaurant by night. The only exercise he gets are the crunches he does when someone lays him on his back. It's the Hey-you-can't-leave-me-here-like-this! crunch. He is so spoiled!

When little Camden showed off his sitting skills, though, all of Tolly's siblings started trying to train him. They are constantly trying to get him to sit up now, which is pretty funny. He always starts listing right away, then flops over with a big smile on his face. I'm not in a hurry for him to hit any of these milestones. I don't want him to get any bigger or stronger or sleepier or skilled! I dread the day when my little chub sleeps in his own bed, all through the night, only to wake up and go out into the world without me. Not ready for that yet! But Camden was eating an Oreo on his blog. Now THAT might be a useful skill! And one that I am more than qualified to teach!