Hunter-ese

Most often only a mother can understand the individual dialect of their offspring. Children give enthralling ramblings with surrounding ears listening intently, directly followed by all eyes going straight to the mom for translation. Funny enough, I often look to others for translation of my own child and usually get a response. Apparently I missed class the day we mommies are installed with the urim and thummim. However I have been able to decode a few.

Noonl: noodle
Cheesy noonl: mac and cheese
Cheesy toast: grilled cheese
Rikrish: licorice
Poon: spoon
Kieboy: cowboy
Nining: Lightning McQueen
Wuie: Woody
Mooie: movie
Bumpfa: grandpa
Copfer: helicopter
Hairpain: airplane
Her it: hear it
Feener eener: finger in there
Puter: computer
Heepo: Robin Hood
Pink: yogurt or taffy
Orange: taffy or cheese or juice
Perper: purple (which is used to describe things that are brown)
Green: Scott's yellow Packers hat
Maid: lemonade
Pickles: mixed vegetables
Mote: remote (and yes, he knows which mote goes to which device)
Woowoo: sirens
Wears: underwear
Ambence: ambulance
Oh no: his pediatrician (sorry Dr. Jopling)
Te: tv
Booboos: boobs
Goosey: Goofey
Meeka: Uniqua (from the Backyardigians)
Yegs: legs
Phome: phone
Ah man: amen
Pear: prayer
Tinkle: Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Bitsy: Itsy Bitsy Spider
Happy Know It: If You're Happy and You Know It
Abw: Abc's
Bapper: diaper
Ite: light
Kif it: ouch
Froggy hug: family hug

The unfortunate part is that I now speak his language. (As if I didn't have a hard enough time speaking English as it is.) I have embarrassed myself many times by using his words with outsiders. If at any time in future readings of my blogs you are unable to discern my language, please refer to this list.

I Will Remember

Just yesterday, I had a conversation that made me choke. For weeks now, we've all been thinking of the upcoming anniversary of our saddest and I think one of our proudest days in our nation's history. We all remember where we were during those first moments of the attack on our people.

I had just arrived at school, a senior, when a good friend told me of what she saw on the television. I didn't believe her. I said it was probably a prank. Fortunately, I had first period seminary. There was no better place to be. We had a spiritual guide to help us through the moments we watched the towers fall. We were angered. We tried to hide. We cried. We prayed. We mourned. Since then those minutes that seemed like an eternity have been carefully locked up tight in my heart. Each one of us has our own personal experience and I hold mine very close to me where no one can reach it.

So when I heard these words, I was horrified, stunned. 'I'm tired of hearing about it. It just needs to be in our history books for our kids to learn about like Pearl Harbor. I wish it would just go away. It's over.'

Over? Really? Let's ask those who are personally affected by this tragedy, whether through survival or lost loved ones. Who are constantly reminded by the absence in their hearts, homes, beds. Or for that matter, anyone who feels a morsel of nationalism or are currently serving to keep us safe, giving their own lives so I might keep mine. Or even further, those throughout the world who feel compassion for all those around them.

Over? Have we come to a point where the amount of love and heartache we feel is determined by time? Is the quota filled?

I'm not tired of hearing about it. Sure there are those who wish to sensationalize. Intentionally tugging at our heart strings for personal gain. But I will never tire of hearing how our country pulled together, united. That day was a wake up call, that our land is not immune from the tyranny of the world. And in the face of that, we can stand as one and prove what we are capable of. I will not tire of hearing stories of inspiration. How people have found hope on the other side and became stronger and closer together because of it.

So maybe there will always be those who want to ignore the perils of our world, to forget and discard them. I hope there will always be a few of us that will hold the sacredness of this day and others like it with the highest respect.

To all of us who were forever changed by these events, I will remember.

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up with String

This weekend was filled with many of my favorite things both old and new. Here are just a few:


Watching Hunter run with all limbs flailing to his Daddy down the aisle of Target.

Free honey butter and cinnamon scones from Sconecutters and soft drinks from Sonic, because the Bees are just that good.

Hearing from a special friend.

Hunter waking me up by kissing my foot hanging off the edge of the bed.

Scott surprising me by coming home early from work because he is so amazing.

When putting Hunter down, I always say 'Mommy loves you with all my heart.' This time I was stopped on my way to the door by him saying, 'Mommy, all Bubba heart.'

Bubba being concerned that he wiped snot on my shirt and taking great care to clean it off.

Watching Hunter learn to walk "sneaky" like.

Two run homers in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and two strikes.

Falling asleep on Scott's shoulder.

When Scott was putting Hunter in the car, he tells Daddy, 'Handsome Daddy'.

Hunter realizing he can turn his whole body into a tunnel.

When underdogs come through.

The Bubba being so brave to throw Harley his toy and being so proud of himself, but the dog being completely unimpressed.

Having Hunter straddle me while trying to type this and completely blocking the screen and making me almost lose my honey butter and cinnamon scone.

The booboo on Hunter's knee needing to be kissed 237 times by 49 different people.

Having raisins constantly stuck to the bottom of my feet. (I'll take that any day over other deposits.)

Remembering how quickly you can run through Walmart without an almost three year old.

Staying up way too late with a bowl of popcorn and my Scotters.


I guess that will do for now, we may have future additions.

Because I Must

I'll let you make up your own caption.

Remembering

Recently our Grandma Barrett put together a book of memories. It contains the funnest stories, most of which I had never heard. I've really enjoyed seeing her unique sense of humor through her writing, but also learning about Grandpa Barrett. Unfortunately, by the time I came to know and love him, there was little ability and time for me to understand how truly great a man he is. I often think the same of Scott and my Grandpa Rogers. Luckily through much effort put into documentation of their lives, we can begin to connect with them.

I feel it is my responsibility to do so. Much of my genealogy has already been done. Short of traveling to do hands on research, there is minimal work I can do. I am not equipped to do this at my present point in life. However I feel very often we overlook the other aspects of genealogy. Names and dates are the basics, but much more lies in their stories of inspiration and guidance. I must do my best to encourage and help those before me to compile these moments as well as my own so they may live on.

This was continually brought to my remembrance through our travels this week. A simple trip to Hill Air force Base came to mean so much more to me. For Hunter it was a chance to see 'big copfters' and 'big airpain'. As he ran around with more excitement than I've ever seen, I was abundantly reminded of how much I wanted to teach him of our family history. Specifically how his Grandpas served for him.



Hope you can see us down there. I felt a little put in my place.

Although daunting to me, he didn't miss a beat. I don't think he was intimidated at all.

This is a B-17. Grandpa Barrett flew 35 missions in one of these. He served as top turret gunner and engineer. He was so blessed because he was tall enough to reach from a standing position.

As our outing continued, I realized simply running through a fountain was adding a page to our own genealogy. By connecting as a family, we are cementing our connection to all our loved ones.

I don't think both feet touched the ground most of the day.

Bubba was very proud of his bravery.

The results of our day couldn't look more fulfilling.

My sweetest view of the entire day.

I couldn't think of a better way to spend my anniversary than to celebrate our family.

Congratulations to Me

It is no secret that I am completely computer illiterate, not to mention in many other things. It is still a wonder to me that I even managed to set up a blog. I feel I am extending myself beyond my personal parameters to accomplish such a goal. So it may be moot to point out that I have had some difficulty in navigating around my account and dashboard. (Did you see that? I used blogger lingo. I promised Scott I wouldn't do that. Shh, don't tell.) So today I am proud to announce that I learned to do something new. I was able to post a permanent picture of my son. Can you believe it? I know. Granted it took me two weeks to figure it out.... and accidentally deleted something else I didn't mean to in the process. But who cares? I say, Yeah!!

So I hope you all enjoy my adorable Bubba. He was truly worth the wait.