So you have a little boy.

If you are the mother of a son or sons you are probably feeling very blessed, but maybe a little confused and slightly overwhelmed. Just like Dads need to use their imagination to understand their daughters, it may take a while to "get" the male brain-a while as in years and years-but here are some secrets to help you break the code.

1. Boys like explosions. Here are some examples of real life explosions. Brother sits behind sister in double stroller. He isn't even old enough to talk but reaches out and pulls her hair. She screams. He smiles. He reaches out and pulls her hair again. She screams...repeat. Mom wonders why little brother would be so mean. He is not mean. He's bored. Did you see that awesome sister explosion when her hair got pulled? Mission accomplished.  Little boy takes the cereal box and pours it all on the floor. Mom starts to yell and then catches herself to use her best parenting skills to talk about motives, consequences, etc. On the next day little boy pours the oil on the floor, similar scenario. Mom wonders, "Why does he keep doing this? We know why. Boys like explosions. They would rather knock the blocks down than build them, they would rather watch their siblings react than live in peaceful boredom, they would rather make a run for the front of the church and be chased by their parent than sit painfully on the pew.  There is no law more intriguing than cause and effect. That's why a little boy would turn on a resting cookie dough beater. Did you see that dough fling all over the kitchen? It was amazing, cleaning up not so much, but worth it. For mom, this knowledge may not make the explosions any more convenient, but it does make them funnier.

2. Boys like to be the hero. They have heroes-Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Iron Man, Captain America, and Dad. They don't like to get bossed around because heroes don't get bossed around, but they don't mind saving the day. So I guess this translates into two actions. Present instructions as choices. "Will you please?" "Would you rather clean now and get done sooner or in 10 minutes when you've gone down the slide one more time?" And thank them for saving the day with appreciation for their muscles, speed, goodness, strength, intelligence, kindness, bravery. And don't worry, sometimes they have to get bossed around. We don't always get what we want. Even Luke Skywalker has rules.

Okay, Jack Sparrow may not be the most exemplary hero, but ya know.

3. Boys like to test their mettle. If Moms are setting boundaries keeping them safe, how can they tell if they're getting more manly? Mom says they can jump on the trampoline. Mom looks out the window. If the boys aren't doing flips they are trying to bounce each other off. Of course the next level is jumping off the deck to the trampoline. Mom might want to get this over with while she's around just in case someone needs to go to the hospital. Mom sends boys down to play in their room. Boys jump on the beds. That being mastered they pull the mattresses off and use them to catapult brothers to the other beds. Friends come over. Mom hears ricocheting in bedroom. Mom finds boys shooting airsoft guns in bedroom, always pushing, testing, risking, becoming stronger, faster, better, give or take some lost blood, brain cells, etc. I understand it's part of becoming a man, but it gives me a heart attack. Many times my final words were, "Okay, but don't come crying to me."

4. Boys don't really like to be teased.  This is so confusing because they spend a lot of time teasing, but teasing them usually brings out the fight. This goes back to them wanting to be the hero. The action is respect the male ego. It's alive and well.

5. Boys run around and yell, but they have a heart. This may be obvious to some, but all that wildness makes a mom forget that there's a little lovey guy inside. Don't forget to show them tenderness. That's what moms are for, to teach them to love, and boys do love their mommas.  So snuggle those little heroes-big and small-even if they try to run away.

And if you're lucky enough to have other children, you're in for a treat because brothers are awesome:

They hold you and keep you safe and call you cute.

They let you win if you need an ego boost and whip your
can if you need an ego bust.

They play hot lava and cowabunga and make sure life is great.

They threaten to keep the boys away until you find one they
want you to keep.

They read to you and always know the big words. They
are experts in dinosaurs, Lego, X-men, all the important stuff.

They make you look good at the talent show

With a brother you can move twice as much dirt.

They're your buddy...

for life...

And forever

They're always good for a hug, or a punch,
whichever you need most.

The more brothers you have, the more Lego ships there are at your house.

They keep their arm around you through thick and thin

And cheer you on while you climb.

They show you how to be strong and defeat the enemy when you need to.

And always make room for you.

They're the Woody to your Darth, the sheriff to your Sith, the "Reach for the sky" to your
 "Never underestimate the power of the dark side." They bring balance to the force.

They're your eternal fan club

They love you even if you cry.

They make sure there's enough Star Wars in your life.

They bring their game and make sure as heck fire you bring yours.

They fill the world with Lego and endless flying coolness.

You can count on them to add a twist to the traditions...(Hawaiian gingerbread man,
broken leg ginger bread man, vampire gingerbread man.) Christmas cookies, check.

They make sure someone is breathing out of a snorkel during the
card game because why wouldn't they be?

They set a good example

They share, and wear their superman cape because they can.

They make sure you know that there's someone bigger
than you so you'd better calm down.

They teach you about the awesomeness that
 is Harry Potter.

They drive through a dangerous snowstorm to attend your daughter's
baptism when even the locals didn't dare brave the roads, clinching
the title of "hero brother."

And then they grow up to be beautiful, brave, good men
that make their momma proud even though they still kind of like explosions.

All good stories start with a miracle.

One day in seminary, the student's were sharing times when they had seen the hand of God in their life. You know you're in Delta territory when 70% of the miracles have to do with travel. Delta employees and their immediate family and parents enjoy the privilege of being able to fly for free. It is an amazing benefit. The only problem is that flying standby is only a good idea if you don't really care if you get there. Delta employees talk about flying like senior citizens talk about their health. Both feel like they're cheating death with every successful day.

WARNING: FLYING STORY
So, as a sign that I am enjoying flight privileges during this season of my life, I will start the telling of my  adventure with the flight miracle. There I was, trying to get to Pocatello. (previously Idaho Falls, but plans were changing by the hour.) The flight was overbooked by 3. Ten paying customers had to get a seat before anyone in standby had a chance. I was number 17 on the standby list. It looked so bleak I was tempted to call my daughter and tell her I couldn't drive with her and her baby to Nebraska, but how sad would that be? I wasn't ready to give up. It looked pretty good to Portland. I could fly there then fly back to Salt Lake City and then to Pocatello, if not that day surely the next. On the morning I was to fly, the thought occurred to me to check at the SLC gate. The flights left only 10 minutes apart so I couldn't be at both gates. I had to commit. I went early to the SLC gate with the intention of asking the gate agent what my chances were. She told me she couldn't let me know for 10 minutes. I waited until the screen came up. The 10 paying customers all had seats. I was number 15 on the standby list. I was going to walk away, when up walked a pilot friend from church. I told him my dilemma. He looked at the screen, pointed out some numbers I hadn't noticed before, and advised me to hold my post and take a chance. "Right now there are 15 seats available, you're number 15. If you were my child I'd tell you to stay at this gate." I took this timely and miraculous advice and got on the plane bound to SLC. The next problem was getting off the 250 passenger plane in time to catch the Pocatello plane which departed 30 minutes after my plane landed. Being seated in the back, back row (It's true the seat doesn't go back, but you can use the bathroom as often as you want without bothering anyone) it took fooreeevvverrr to get off. I skipped the airport bathroom and headed straight to the other gate, the one that no one knew because no one flies to Pocatello, ID. It was the very, very last gate in the concourse and I saw the agent heading outside. I called out (politely of course) "Excuse me, can I get on that plane?" He turned and said, "In one minute I would have said 'No." And that's how I came to be in Pocatello, ID on May 19, 2014.

OKAY. IT'S OVER


I love to tell stories the long, slow way, especially the good parts. So, my sister Mary picked me up from the airport. Can I just say that I love my sisters and brothers? This sweet girl has been a fantastic aunt to my daughter and son-in-law while they lived in Pocatello. She gave them a home to visit and rocked the baby in the night and on this particular day was dressed adorably in her cleaning outfit as she helped the kids prepare to move. When we saw each other the talk was fast and lively with lots of interrupting to get the most words in  in a short amount of time. This was especially important  because plans had evolved to an afternoon departure to get some driving hours under our belt, so the sister visit was short. Not wanting to appear on the scene with too many needs, we stopped at a taco trailer on the side of the road. I don't know why this is important to me,  I think it solidifies my memory with Mary. There we were trying to use our California upbringing to pronounce the names of the food with the proper Spanish accent. Of course we laughed long and loud in the car because the girl who served us spoke perfect English and probably thought we were ridiculous...hehehe good times.

Back at the apartment it was all business as moving always is. People were in good spirits but tired good spirits. Joseph's sister and husband  had been helping for a while, friends came to send them off and help with the truck. My job was to hold the baby. I slaved. Then "Good-bye" to Mary, "Hello" to sub sandwiches and baby shots and we were off, Joseph in the truck and Eliza and Hyrum and I in the car.

The hospital where Hyrum was born, just for history's sake.

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Do you know what's fun? We drove by Lava Hot Springs. I had a serious deja vu. I had totally been there with my roommates in college and had forgotten all about it. I have a scar from hitting a seam on a water slide to prove it. I realize that there are a lot of words spilling out of my brain, but I love when my past connects with my present.


The first stop that evening was Bennington, ID. I know, I hadn't heard of it either.  Joseph's friend's wife's parents live there. That's what's great about Joseph, he loves people and they love him.  We felt completely welcome. I realized I really like to see where people live. So this cute girl, who I had met before, grew up here with mountains in her front view, mountains in her back view, a nice garden on the side yard and a little sheep farm a couple of blocks away. That's a good way to grow up. After dinner instead of watching TV we went to see the lambs. There I was looking the Atlanta girl wearing flip flops in the barn. No one could tell that I grew up in the country.  I felt love and strength in this home.

Me still in my flying clothes. Driving clothes don't
have zippers.

Hyrum's first lamb encounter. Aww

Not Eliza's first lamb encounter, but still cute.

A couple more hours on the road put us in Lyman, WY. I actually think I've driven past Lyman before. I remember the sign just not the town. The word on the street is that people in Lyman don't use addresses, just land marks. That was also our experience. Joseph's aunt's late husband's kind and gracious parents put us up for the night. We heard some wonderful stories of fishing in Alaska with exhibit A (delicious fish) for a midnight snack. Just because you live in a small town doesn't mean you have a small life. These people's life was full of family, adventure, generosity, and happiness.

Tuesday morning started the drive of drives. It actually wasn't bad, but with a baby in the car anything can happen. Luckily, he just ate and talked and when he got tired we cranked up the static on the radio, gave him a pacifier and he fell peacefully asleep. Don't judge.

So, baby girl Eliza is moving to Omaha, NE. The fun thing about that is she was born in Lincoln, NE. When we arrived in Lincoln we stayed with our lifelong friends, Rich and Joyce Starr.

They had been our neighbors for the 8 years our family lived in Lincoln. During this visit we were right across the street from where we had lived until we had 7 children. As I looked at the little house and yard that felt so magical when there were little long t-shirted babies running in and through shouting, "Cowabunga," and  "May the Force Be With you," I realized what wonderful days they had been. I'm sure those looking from the outside in might have wondered what the sanity level was, and that is a good question, but the fun level was very high.

Our old house

Me trying to see into the back yard

In the evenings during our stay, the Starr's little girls came to visit, little girls who have grown into wonderful, capable women. We laughed and played and laughed and ate. Rich made his famous Mother's Day ribs. They were just as good as I remembered them.   It's a wonder that restaurants can still be in business 20 years later, but I ate broccoli beef from the neighborhood Chinese restaurant, Primavera which replaced Vegetables Primavera which is what I really wanted, from Valentino's and lemon berry slushies and corn dogs from Sonic which are not nostalgic but were on special and delicious.

We also shopped at the Goodwill that I had single handedly kept in business when Paul was getting his PHD. It never disappoints. And don't forget the Super Saver grocery store that I practically lived in. One pregnancy my OB asked what I did for exercise. I looked him in the eye and said, "I shop at Super Saver with children." So many great memories.

Thursday, these two had a special date to see "Wicked". Hyrum had a special date with Grandma, Joyce and Rich.. He was good for us but was very happy to see his awesome parents.

And then I hugged my friends and kissed my babies and flew away. This time flying was a cinch.

Sunday, Eliza took her baby to the same church I had taken her when she was a baby, and then made her Dad's rolls and shared them with the Starr's, just like old times. Ain't life grand?