Oh, Joy!

It's okay...I know you can't help yourself. Go ahead and laugh along with her....

(We all did!)

Take Me Home, Country Roads

Anyone who knows the Player family well knows that we believe John Denver to be a long lost cousin, perhaps separated at birth, and that the "West Virginia" he sings about in Country Roads is actually a veiled reference to Deer Park, Washington. Or, at least we like his songs a lot.

I first discovered the therapeutic effects of our own country road the summer after my freshman year at BYU. I had been so frightfully homesick and stressed for the entire year, and then I came home and went for a walk. It was magical. An entire year's worth of stress and sadness melted away in the course of one short mile down Wallbridge Road.

Time stands stills there. Today I went for a walk and rediscovered the magic. Some changes greeted me: they've been logging in a few places (oh, woe is me) so some spots are a bit sparser. A few new houses have popped up. And this time I had an irresistibly kissable baby head be-bopping along in the Bjorn in front of me. But the feeling was the same; the feeling of complete and utter contentment with the world around me. I feel so small and insignificant when I walk it, but in a good way. For a few brief moments I get lost in my thoughts while the silence and the fresh air heal the dings and dents of my soul.

I wish all the wonderful mothers I know could share in healing of Wallbridge Road.

In the immortal words of the Statue of Liberty:
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free

Come to Wallbridge Road! And if gas is too expensive, then find a quiet place and listen to some John Denver. We all know he's really singing about Deer Park, anyway.

Growing Pains

I feel like we rearrange our house about every 1.3 days. It's probably closer to every 1.3 months or maybe even every 1.3 quarters, but there is definitely a 1.3 in there somewhere and it is most definitely too often. This is not because of a love of moving furniture (what would that be called? U-haulogy?) but simply out of necessity. It's all about the math. We have finite square footage and an infinite number of growth spurts (equally divided amongst our four children). In the two years since we've moved into this apartment, bunkbeds have been put up and bunkbeds have been taken down. Beds have moved rooms. Cribs have moved rooms. Futons have moved rooms. Even rooms have moved rooms (our office is now in our living room!). It's all just part of the routine now.

And today was the 1.3rd day, or month, or quarter.

Ta-da! Mede has officially reached kid status. He's no longer a baby. He's sleeping in (gasp) a big boy bed.

I felt a little like we were booting him out on the proverbial doorstep a little early. But, as mentioned earlier, necessity calls. Katie's growth spurt equals Mede's displacement. She's just too big for her cute little frilly newborn Moses basket and she needed his crib.

Watching Mede's reaction to the U-haulogy, I was forced to philosophize. He was so excited about his new bed. He sat on it, he put his toys on it and, of course, he jumped on it. But then he ran into Ainsley and Katie's room and started putting his blankie in his old crib. He was as torn as a two year old can be! I told him it was Katie's bed now, and I could just see the internal struggle of a boy who wants to grow up but wants his old crib back (and cringes at the thought of an intruder!)

I could so feel his pain. It was sad putting Katie's basket away because it means she isn't a newborn anymore. I was nostalgic taking Mede's things out of the crib that he has used since he was a newborn. But at the same time I love that Katie is smiling and cooing and giggling at me, things she didn't do a month ago. And Mede melted my heart when he sang "I am a Child of God" along with me tonight, which he only recently learned to do. Every stage brings exciting changes, even if it means leaving cherished phases behind. I suppose that's why God gave us memories...and digital cameras.

And here's the eternal truth for the day: kids will always throw Mom for a loop, no matter how smart Mom thinks she is. I was so worried about Mede not sleeping well in his bed that I didn't even consider Katie's adjustment. Turns out, Mede had no trouble whatsoever and Katie the Super-Sleeper screamed and cried off and on for an hour until I finally put her back in her basket--inside the crib. I haven't heard another peep from her.

So apparently she's not quite ready to grow up, either!