Our Bedtime Routine

James aficionados may remember that the first song he ever sang along to was "A Pirate's Life for Me (Yo Ho)." Now it is the last thing he hears every night, because he requests I sing it after we say prayers.

Brought to You By the Letter H

Imagine my excitement tonight when James learned his first letter! He was taking his bath, and he has these foam letters and numbers that stick to the tub when they're wet. He picked up the red letter "H" and said, "Look, H!" It just goes to show that Big Bird really knows what he's talking about.

Also, the big news this week is that James is learning to wear "big boy undies." I decided it was time to potty learn when he brought me a dirty diaper he had taken off himself. Just as Big Bird is helping us with our ABC's, Elmo is helping us remember to go to the bathroom. So far, we've had several accidents, but also several successful trips to the loo. Wish us luck!

We Love Visitors!

Some pictures of family and friends who have come to visit in the past couple of months:

Tat, Blair, and a Beefeater at the Tower of London

My mother and I

Mom in front of the Houses of Parliament

Tat, James, Lorianne

Tat, PaPa Larry (my grandpa), Micah

PaPa Larry wearing James' "hat"

Pure Imagination

James sees the world a little differently than the rest of us. As soon as he realized that he was part of a world, and that there were other things besides himself in that world, he imagined that those things were other things.

This may look like a small plastic toy to you or to me. To James, it is a cell phone.

An ordinary brown leather sofa? Not when James straddles the top. From that position, he told me, "Look, Mommy! I'm riding a horse!"

This is the cardboard strip torn off our laundry detergent box.

But in James' hands, it's a balloon, and he is Curious George, being carried away by it.

These are not the pillows on our bed . . .

. . . they form the dashboard of James' car.

On the left is a carrot. On the right is the vegetable peeler. When James "peels carrots," he does so over the trash can.

And the following picture needs no explanation:

Some Thoughts on Easter

I apologize in advance for those who would see this post as light-minded or inappropriate in any way. I don't mean to trivialize the atonement and resurrection at all by what I'm about to say.

As I sat in church on Easter Sunday, and even in the days leading up to it, I felt what I'm going to call "the spirit of Easter" more this year than I think I've ever felt it before. What it boiled down to was an overwhelming sense of gratitude - not just for the resulting blessings of Christ's actions, but for the actions themselves.

I am grateful for the promise of a universal resurrection, and somewhat more so for the opportunity my Savior has afforded me to repent of my sins. This year, what was foremost in my mind, though, was the way in which Jesus accomplished His great labor of love. And I must say that a big part of getting a handle on my Easter thoughts and feelings this year was by thinking about some of our great modern, secular parables.

As I sat in Sacrament Meeting, I thought of little Frodo, accepting the burden of the one ring at the council in Rivendell, even though he had little knowledge of the difficulties ahead of him. I thought of the great lion, Aslan, who forgave even Edmund's treachery. And I thought of Harry Potter, who (spoiler alert!) walked into the Forbidden Forest at midnight, planning to lay down his life for his friends.

I am not implying, of course, that these stories rival holy Scripture, or that the experiences of these fictional characters compare to the ultimate sacrifice of the very non-fictional Jesus of Nazareth. What I am saying is that the themes in these books (and others)-- themes of sacrifice, love, forgiveness, and of fighting for a cause bigger than oneself -- deeply resonate with me, and with so many people.

I guess that the ideas encompassed by the word "atonement" are so big, and the sacrifices Jesus made so awesome, in the true sense of the word, that it is helpful for me to approach the subject via allegory. I find I can better relate to the thoughts and feelings of a small hobbit or young wizard than a person who was literally the Son of God, and who had no faults, and who suffered for the sins of countless billions. So I am grateful for these contemporary parables, that in a very small way help me better understand and appreciate the Greatest Story Ever Told -- that of the empty tomb.

The (Almost) Completely Fictional Post

Today was a great day. I arose, as I so often do, at five a.m. with a song in my heart. I said a long, uninterrupted morning prayer, studied Scripture, and did my Pilates workout by six. I then showered, dressed, and applied makeup, makeup which in no way was irreparably damaged by my son at any time today.

At seven o'clock, James knocked gently on his bedroom door, and said, "Mommy, I'm up! Can I come out of my room now?" We breakfasted on whole-grain, sugar-free, nutrient-rich food which had been harvested and packaged using sustainable, eco-friendly processes. James ate, as usual, a well balanced meal.

After starting the laundry and washing the breakfast dishes, we exited the spotlessly clean flat in an orderly manner and visited a museum a few blocks away. James obeyed my every suggestion, holding my hand the entire time without a fuss, and refrained at all times from touching the priceless antiques and furniture.

We returned home for lunch, which was as hearty and wholesome as breakfast. After lunch, James went of his own accord up to his room for a nice, long nap. Because he slept so soundly and so long, I was able to get some necessary tasks accomplished. I worked on our taxes, scheduled my Visiting Teaching appointments, and did some crocheting while listening to my French lessons.

James awoke in time for a visit from our friends, Hanna and Henry. James was in a great mood, owing to all the rest he had gotten, and at no time did he make Henry cry. Not at all.

After our friends left, James and I had a peaceful and restful evening, playing gently with one another until James' bedtime. We rounded out the evening with a nice, homemade dinner. After family prayer, James gave me a goodnight kiss and drifted off to sleep. I sighed as I gazed upon him, wondering what I did to deserve such a lovely child.

And now I'm off to bed myself, content with knowing that I've done some good in the world today.

Pupaphobia

In case you're wondering, it's the fear of puppets. And James has it. He becomes violently frightened when anyone with any kind of puppet demonstrates its use. I would add pictures of James being traumatized by puppets, but I think it would be cruel to laugh at his very real affliction. I should say it would be cruel for more people to laugh at his pain, because Micah and I have already enjoyed this little joke at his expense.

So far, he has been scared out of his mind by a dinosaur puppet, a wolf puppet, and even one of his own mittens being used as a sort of puppet. You know, like, "hey, James, I'm your mitten. If you put me on your hand, I'll keep you warm," with the fingers and thumb parts of the mitten being moved up and down to simulate a talking mouth. Yeah, he completely freaked.

It's good to know, though, that if these issues persist, there is help out there for people like James.