On September 8th, Roo-Boo started preschool. He was sooooooooo sooooooooo soooooooo excited to go. He’s ready for a full fun year of learning and playing and having a little independence from home.

I’m excited for him.

I will miss him.

Roo turned five. Saying that hurts my heart a little. He’s been the sweetest, most joyful four year old I have ever known. His good natured-ness has really been a boon to my heart, and he really is my little buddy. I don’t want him to grow up, but stay as that sweet four year old forever.
But I didn’t begrudge him his birthday. We celebrated!

For his birthday:

A few days after his birthday, we had a party with all his neighborhood buddies to celebrate. We invited: Reed Jorgensen, Harvey Fletcher, Kiera Engh, Mallory Reiman, and Kai Jacobsen.

The other night I woke up to the word “Mom” being whispered in the dark. I opened my eyes expecting to see a child standing before me at the side of the bed. But there was no child.

Again, I heard the softest whisper “Mom” – almost like an exhale. This time I looked to the doorway. Sometimes the kids won’t come in if the door is closed. But the door was opened, and no one was there.

“What?” I asked aloud, trying to get the little love to come to me. The only response was a grunt from Wyatt as he rolled over in his sleep.

I lay in the dark trying to decide if I was dreaming. Then I remembered the kids were all outside sleeping on the trampoline. But surely they weren’t calling me. It was too quiet of a whisper. My exhausted self wanted to roll over and just go back to sleep. But what if the kids needed me? It was too much. I stood and went to my window to look out across the yard.

On the trampoline I saw one lone child sitting up, stirring. “That’s weird.” I said to myself. I swear the “mom” I heard belonged to Roo, but the child sitting up looked to be Everett.

I went around the house to the sliding door, went into the back yard, where I heard two soft little wimpers.

“Is everyone okay?” I asked. Then Roo, turned around and his wimpers turned to tragic sobs. “I’m cold. I want to go in” he cried.

I brought Roo in, cleaned him up (he’d had an accident) and tucked him safely into bed between Wyatt and I, where he promptly fell back to sleep.

But I lay awake in the darkness.

When my SIL Karen was expecting her first baby, she asked a bunch of moms what baby monitor we recommended. I told her to not worry about it. Her mom-ears would make it so she would hear EVERYTHING – even if the baby was 3 doors down the hallway. Months later, after the baby came, she confirmed my prediction – she did indeed hear everything.

It’s the mom ears that make it so moms don’t really sleep a full night, even if the kids don’t need particular help. You just hear them.  ALL. THE. TIME.

But as I lay in the dark, I thought about the exhaled “Mom” I’d heard earlier. It was so soft. So very very soft.

Was it soft because I was hearing it across a yard and an exterior wall?  Were my mom ears really that good?

No, I don’t really think so. I’m pretty sure it was the Holy Ghost waking me up to let me know my little Roo Boo needed me. I know Heavenly Father adores this little guy, and probably didn’t want him to have to shiver all night on the trampoline, so He woke me up to help him.

I’m glad I did.

Heidi and Alea and Weston came up to the cabin to play one day. We played at the river, had a seriously yummy bbq and otherwise spent the day playing and relaxing. We even went down to the diner for lunch!

Prince Brave of Awesome-

While we were at the cabin with cousins, we went to the river to play. I had even put on a suit and was playing with the kids. And then Roo decided he wanted to be brave and jump off the bridge. Wyatt helped him under the guard rails, and onto the steel beam that juts out over the river. I swam right below them, floating in the water with the tube.

Roo stared down at me – 6 or 8 feet below him, in the darkened waters. His eyes welled with giant crocodile tears and he shook in terror as Wyatt tried to reassure him. Finally I yelled up at him, “Roo, you don’t have to do it!”

And Wyatt repeated the same thing. “Roo, you don’t have to do it.” But just then, this look of sheer determination came over him.

I’ll never forget it, swimming below him, looking up. His body went rigid, and he yelled out against his parent’s temptation to quit: “No, I’m just going to do it!” And then he threw himself out into the void of space between the bridge and the river. Gravity took over, and he splashed down into the water, where I was waiting to grab him.

When we made it to shore, I stood Roo up on the cement stairs, looked him straight into the eyes, and told him: “Now we have to call you Prince Brave of Awesome!” And his face lit up, his eyes sparkled with the joy of realizing what he had done. He jumped one more time that afternoon. And ever since, he has made me write on his plastic cups at the cabin, the name: “Prince Brave of Awesome”

Everett the Conquering Hero!

We went to the swimming hole last week, and Everett jumped off the bridge for the first time. The first time he jumped right into my waiting arms. But the next time he just jumped in himself and swam to the side by himself. I was seriously impressed. He’s even done it a couple times since!