Given Paul’s interest in Baby Doll’s toilet training, I’m considering beginning his own toilet training come the first of February. But I’d love to know your ideas for helping it go well. No promises I’ll try your method, but please share away!

Of course, that would assume there are people still reading my bog after months of silence. If not, I understand. My life is only so interesting, as this post demonstrates.

A friend in my ward had her baby last week, so I offered to take them dinner last night. She lives on the other side of the ward, so she’s 15-20 minutes away, but I figured I’d get there before 5 and be home long before 5:30 so we could eat our own dinner.

Paul is a great sport in the car — he loves looking for buses and trucks and cars in general. But I hadn’t remembered that we’d be driving through down town Algonquin at rush hour. We ended up not leaving until about 4:40, and so by the time we were driving through down town again, dinner delivered, it was long after 5:30. I was tired of sitting in traffic, and I was starting to get hungry. I kept thinking of the two-year-old still strapped in the back seat. (He often says, “Stuck! Stuck!” as we drive and he tries to squirm, so I know he doesn’t like the car seat part of driving.)

I clutched the wheel tighter and stared at tail lights. I’m sure my frustration was in my voice.

“A few more minutes, Paul! Everyone’s going home right now, so there are lots of cars. We’ll be home soon.”

As I simmered in frustration, staring at tail lights in yet another backed-up stop light, I heard a little sing-song voice from the back seat. I turned to see Paul looking out the window, rocking his head back and forth. He was singing with unintelligible words, but the up and down sounds were familiar and his hands were signing “waiting.” Paul was singing the waiting song!

When his food isn’t ready and he’s hungry, when Mommy’s trying to get the laundry moved before we go to the store and he’s impatient to go now, and any other time that I need him to wait, I sing the waiting song in a  little sing-song voice:

“Waiting! Waiting! Little Paul is waiting! Waiting! Waiting! Paul knows how to wait! Paul knows how to wait!”

Now, here he was, sitting in (what I’m sure is a very uncomfortable) car seat for an hour, waiting for his dinner, and he initiated the Waiting Song.

Sure enough, he has the words. He has a song. Little Paul can wait!

Can Mommy?

I really consider this blog and Paul’s blog very low priority. They are our scrapbooks, and you know how scrapbooks get pushed down to last place.

Paul hasn’t been napping as regularly lately, and when I put him in bed at night, I seriously don’t feel like sorting through two months of old pictures, trying to find something that I can reformat for the web. I find my daily life rather boring, so I’d rather not write up how boring it is for the web.

Once night is here, I’d rather read a book or blog about the books I’ve read.

The more I think about how many pictures I “need” to post on here, the less likely I’m going to do it. So I’m just stepping back, and when I feel like it, I’ll get to it. I do want the pictures up here for future reference!

Something to Ponder

Today I was standing in line at the supermarket when a magazine cover caught me eye. The main headline said

WALK IT OFF! Lose 2 lbs this month

Underneath that was a picture of a large cake covered with M&Ms with the sub-headline that said

Make an M&M Pumpkin Cake! Details page ___!

Now, I’ve never been on a diet and I’m also not much of a fan of candy anyway so maybe it’s just easy for me to say, but seriously: you have to agree there is something wrong with our priorities, when those are the two headlines on a woman’s family magazine. I suspect not eating an M&M pumpkin cake is probably the best thing you can do for your health this month, no matter how much you go walking!

Just a thought.

I sang and rocked my 2-year-old “I Am a Child of God” again tonight. He “sang” along with me.

I certainly hope that I’m that “parent kind and dear” we’re singing about! What a precious moment!

Two years ago, I awoke at 3 a.m. with the realization that my three-day overdue baby was finally going to come. At 3:13 p.m., he arrived, 3116 grams and squirmy and blue, eyes open, trying to see the world.

His eyes are still open as he tries to understand everything about the world around him. And now he squirms out of my arms to run play. “Play!” is his first word every morning when I go in to greet him.

Has it really been two years? I love that little boy, even though sometimes I’m impatient. I love the precious moments I get to spend with him as a stay-at-home mom.

I’ve thought a lot lately about the day he was born and the early days of his life. I was so overwhelmed with the sense of responsibility: this is a child of God! God entrusted him to me! And yet, my birth experience taught me that I can be a mother, that I am what he needs on earth.

As I think about this blog, I realized it is the posts on motherhood that I enjoy the most.

I am so grateful to be a mother!

I have the best husband in the world because he watched Paul tonight while I went to the general Relief Society dinner and meeting (it took six hours)!

“You know you could watch it at home,” he said as I got ready. I eyed the wide-screen TV and the leather couch. But I had decided to go last week, and since I was picking up a friend and our visiting teaching sisters, I had no choice at that point but to go.

Just after 4, I slipped out. I picked up three friends on the way, and by 5:20 we were at the Stake Center. The long drive went quickly because I was with my ward sisters, sisters that I hadn’t known very well. It was fun to get to know them.

The Mexican Fiesta dinner was lots of fun with the entire stake. I even saw a sister from the ward I was in when I was first married. She was shocked to learn that my baby is almost two years old.

Although I don’t like big social gatherings, this was just my type of gathering because I sat by a few sisters during dinner and had real conversations. (”Real” meaning they were about things other than airplanes and choo choo trains.) I practiced my Spanish (5 years rusty) with a sister in my ward that I’d never spoken to before.

At quarter to seven, we headed to the chapel to watch the broadcast together. There were more people than they anticipated: every bench was packed with sisters. The stake presidency hurried to set up chairs in the Relief Society room too to give more seating space. Our bench remained packed. I felt like a sardine. We joked as we kept bumping each other, trying to get comfortable.

But then the Stake President stood at the podium and mentioned a few spiritual thoughts as the image of the meeting in the Conference Center came in to focus behind him. Suddenly realized that I was about to hear the prophet! Or would it be President Eyring, whom I love? Or maybe President Uchtdorf who just puts things into such clear terms? I didn’t care, but I was suddenly eager to hear it all.

The music started and the meeting began. It felt so good. Sister Beck talked about the importance of visiting teaching, how it’s “more than just a visit,” and I thought of the sister at my side. It’s true, I thought: visiting teaching is a job that is never “done.” While we may not ever be best friends, there’s something to be said for (1) a one-hour-each-way drive to the stake center and (2) sitting like sardines in a chapel listening to our leaders. We were becoming closer. It was something good.

Later, Sister Thompson talked about focusing on not just knowing but truly accepting that I am a daughter of God. Accepting that makes all the difference, she said, her voice breaking. What a testimony that is, coming from a sister whose dreams didn’t turn out as she wanted them. Will any of ours? Will it matter if they don’t?

And then we sang. As we stood, shoulder to shoulder in crowded rows of sisterhood, our voices in the chapel joined together in a testimony to God:

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I will not desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake,
I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake.

Is there a reason we are to gather together as Relief Society sisters for such a meeting?

Tonight was a testimony to me that there is always a reason. Not only “Charity never faileth” but sisterhood strengthens faith.

I am so grateful I took six hours today to go to the Stake Center and be spiritually feed by the spirit with my Relief Society sisters at my side!

Where did you watch the Relief Society broadcast? Who was at your side?

I still haven’t received any of the digital family pictures from my brother’s wedding, nor the two actually in-focus digital pictures from my in-laws from our time in Utah, so I don’t have any pictures to share with you.

But I have a cute story for you!

Starting in early July, I began reading Paul The Book of Mormon as we ate breakfast. We read about five verses a day. My brother and his wife were my inspiration, since I know they started reading The Book of Mormon to Daniel when he was quite young.

Now it is September, and we are still in 1 Nephi. Ah well. The most important thing is that Paul loves it.

If don’t get the book down, he points at it and calls out “Book! Book!” I get it down and we sing “Book of Mormon Stories” together (and lately “Nephi’s Courage,” as well, since Nephi is building a boat and all). Then I read a few verses while Paul finishes up his oatmeal.

Some days, especially at the beginning, he’d talk over me. Now he listens.

This week, we entered a new stage. We were eating lunch together (not breakfast, lunch) and he pointed to the bookshelf. “Book! Book!” and he started trying to sing “Book of Mormon Stories.” I read him five verses, and he called out “More! More!” So I finished the chapter.Today at breakfast, he also kept saying “More! More!” Five verses is no longer enough.

He’s young. My guess is he isn’t “learning” anything, other than that we love The Book of Mormon. And isn’t that way we do this?

I got a catalog in the mail from the church today. I noticed something: The Gospel Principles book is to be the Priesthood/Relief Society manual for the next two years. What a wonderful way to remind us that Sunday church meetings really is about being reminded of the basics!

I was excited, until I realized that, by being in Primary, I’ll never get those lessons. Ah, well.

Now that I’ve finally finished scrubbing out the refrigerator, I can come back and tell you how much I love fall.

This summer was great, don’t get me wrong. I felt we were busier than normal, even without a change from school to no school. This year’s summer weather was wonderfully mild, and Paul didn’t fuss on the days when I said, “Sorry, but it’s just too hot today. We’re staying inside.” (I have a feeling that won’t work so well next year.)

But now the weather is back to a reasonable average, and I just love to sit in the (pleasantly cool) sun and watch the leaves fall from the trees.

Today, the weather is staying in low 80s and the coming week has a perfect partially sunny forecast of 70s and upper 60s. It’s cool enough to walk to the library without dying of misery and perspiration. It’s cool enough to play in the back yard for extended periods of time. It’s cool enough to sit on our deck and eat dinner.

I love my yard. The landscaping keeps the neighbors in their own yard, so even when they had a party and football game the other night, our yard was still blessedly private and quiet. We had our own dinner outside too. I love privacy: good fences truly do make good neighbors (and we don’t even have fences; just perfect yards!!).

In the fall, I go to the library and it’s not overrun with noisy, cranky kids. In the fall, I go to the park and there aren’t any big kids sharing sand with Paul (I hate sand). In the fall, I can call up my friends and schedule play dates again, since the big kids are back in school.

In retrospect, I realize now how much I didn’t finish over those crazy weeks called “summer.” Why did they feel so crazy? It seemed all the people we met with were on “hyper” mode, trying to fit things in to the short time.

We didn’t do any fun “activities,” per se, and our budget kept us close to home (until we finally made it to Utah in September!!). But Paul and I both had a great summer all the same. Paul played with his cousins a few times, we visited Grandma and Grandpa in Naperville a few times, and we did little things together, just the two of us.

I’m realized I’m just not an activity girl. I’d rather sit and chat with people than “do” something “exciting.”

As I ponder the fact that I’m a sitter and not a “do-er,” I realize that my son may miss out on some things. He’s not going to have memories of busy childhood summers. Ever. I know I’m not going to drag him around all over the place next year either. We’ll do the special things that he loves: playing on the swing set, going to the library, going to the petting zoo and park, playing with friends, going on picnics. Maybe next year we’ll find some new favorite thing to do together. But I’m not a “crazy summer activities” Mom and I never will be. I like to keep life simple.

Paul is the happiest, least cranky kid I know, and I sincerely believe that a regular nap and bedtime schedule helps him to be so. In order for him to get his sleep, we sometimes have to say “no thanks” to some of those “crazy” activities in order to be home by sleep time. And you know what? I really like it that way.

As he gets closer to age two, Paul is becoming more independent. He resists obeying, and he’s begun to have screaming fits when I misunderstand what he says or when I decline his requests. The next few months of autumn will be interesting as I adjust to this new personality he’s developing. And yet, he’s still, overall, an incredibly happy, well-adjusted boy.

I suspect he’ll turn out just fine, our non-exciting summer be darned.

We had a lovely weekend in Utah, and I’m so glad we could spend time with Paul’s grandparents in Utah. We hadn’t been there since November 2008, so Paul has grown up quite a bit! Hopefully, we’ll get back to Utah a lot sooner next time so we’ll get to see other family and friends as well.

I had good intentions upon my return. I planned to get photos up quickly and clean the fridge and do other ambitious projects. But then I found out that my reading blog, Rebecca Reads, is a finalist as Best General Review Blog for the Book Blogger Appreciation Week!

I was always picked last in gym class. And the only vote I’ve ever won was for Drama Club President. But no one else wanted to be drama president, so I guess it was kind of by default. Ryan says that Drama Club President is just as geeky as being last in gym class: what do you think?

At any rate, I’m suddenly a winner (or at least the committee liked me). I get to put a lovely badge on my books site, and guess what…..there is still a vote for the best of all the finalists!

If you like book blogs, or you think you might like to find some books blogs, there are dozens of categories of blogs about books. Peruse the shortlists (with links to the blogs) and then go vote for your favorites by Saturday, September 12, 11:59 PM EST.

And if you are so inclined, you could vote for me. I’m a bit giddy here.

And if I calm down by tomorrow, I may scrub the fridge. Ask me about it. I need someone to hold me accountable because apparently I’m not holding myself accountable.

We certainly had a Sorenson-filled summer, with my family visiting for the Fourth, my brother getting married, and my sister being in town for so many weeks. Lots of play time for those little cousins, and plenty of visiting with family.

So it’s certainly time for some one-on-one with the Reids! Just three days and we’ll be on our way for some Grandma Peggy and Papa Paul time out in Utah.

I have some house updates to post but I am just so excited for our upcoming weekend. Before all the fun, of course, I have to manage a 23-month-old on my lap for three hours. I admit I’m not looking forward to that all that much.