And a Very Merry Christmas to You

Christmas has been wonderful. There's nothing like a houseful of giddy kids who all still believe in Santa Claus to cure the lackofspirit blues I've been feeling. Having Ender crawl into my lap and ask me if he would be able to hear Santa coming is just cute.

I did miss being with my family, naturally. But I definitely made the right choice about where to spend my first Christmas away from home: Being Papa Boatright's "sixth daughter" was almost as good as being my own father's "Dots" (a name reserved just for me, incidentally ^_^). And thanks to all of the enthusiastic Boatright grandkids running around, I didn't have time to get lonely.

To be honest, I was most homesick for Brian anyway. My Thanksgiving dose of my family (and the possibility of seeing my family sometime in January or February) was enough to hold me over. But I've never spent a Christmas without Brian, and the thought of not being partners in crime in the Christmas mischief and mayhem (which we've done for as long as I can remember) would have been more difficult if I'd been with my family.

Which leads me to the best part of my Christmas. Sure, I got some cool presents, but the BEST present was hearing Brian's voice on the phone. He got his missionary Christmas phone call home, and Dad conferenced me in with them. I almost burst into tears when I heard him. Does that sound sappy? I'm sorry. I'm just so stinking proud of him. Hearing him talk with that familiar missionary-rhythm (if you don't know it, it's characterized by short sentences or phrases, with a rising tone at the end of each phrase---almost like the rising tone that marks a question in speech, but not quite so obvious), and slip into Spanish reminded me how much he's grown up since he left. Did you know he's been gone for nine months? That means he has 15 months left. 

Yes, I'm trunky for him. He's not, but I am. :) 

Anyway, that was my favorite part of Christmas. I hope you all had a wonderful day, too. 

Ender's Lesson

I've often heard that you learn so much from having children. Well, I don't have children. Of my own, at least. But I learn a lot just from being an aunt to my best friend's children. Where better to learn the lessons of eternity than from those who have only very recently left it?

A couple of weekends ago, I spent a couple of days with Qait and her family. You all know how I feel about being there. It's the best thing in the world. But I can't stay there forever, and each time I leave, Ender's tears always tug at my heartstrings. This time was a little different, though. As Ender gets older, he's developed a lot more smarts about the adults in his life. He's gotten to the point where he knows that I live somewhere else, and when I leave, I'll be back. But that doesn't mean he likes it any better.

I told him I had to pack up my things, and he departed from his usual tears and "please stays" and decided to get mad that I was leaving instead. He growled (and three-year-old growls are just cute, even when they convey anger) and stormed away from me, refusing to look at me and deciding to take his anger out on the nearest toy, which he kicked across the room. I continued to patiently explain to him that I had to take care of other things, and that other people needed to see me, too, but he was too upset by the fact that I wasn't staying with him that he wasn't really listening.

I knew it was because he loved me. He wanted me to stay close by and play with him and fix his problems, just the way his mother did. I loved him too, but he wasn't listening to me when I tried to remind him just how much.

Finally, I dropped to my knees in front of him and caught his hand as he tried to push me away. I murmured soothingly in his ear and gathered him up into my arms, rocking him back and forth until his temper cooled. I told him I still loved him even when I wasn't with him. I told him that he still had Mom and Dad and Scarlett with him and that I would be back again soon. He still kept that sulky lower lip out for a while, but eventually, he relaxed and snuggled deep into my arms with a quiet "Love you, too."

That was an unusual experience where I had the chance to intervene in one of Ender's (rare) temper tantrums and be more "mom" than "aunt." And that was all I thought of it for awhile.

But over this last week, I've come to realize how very much I'm like Ender. I don't always completely understand things, and out of selfishness, I often want the Lord to stay really close by and fix all my problems. And when He tries to give me an answer, sometimes I push away or ignore Him because I'm too busy with my immediate problem.

And yet He is always willing to kneel at our eye level, pull us into His arms, and whisper "I love you" in our ears.

Nothing Ender did when he was upset changed how much I loved him. I only wanted him to be happy and trust that I was there for him. I didn't walk away or even look away from him during his fit. I kept all of my attention focused on how to help him understand. The Lord does the same thing for me.

When I get caught up in my own problems and stop listening to His voice, He doesn't leave me. My lack of understanding does not provoke Him into turning away. Instead, He sends the Spirit to speak to me on my level as He gathers me into His arms and reassures me that I am beloved and treasured. Far more so than I can possibly treasure Ender.

It's November now. Thanksgiving. It's one of my favorite holidays of the year (and I actually get to spend Thanksgiving with my family for the first time in five years) because it's a time where we make a special effort to express our gratitude. I am thankful for Ender, for the powerful lesson he taught me about my Savior's devotion to me. If I can love my nephew that much, how much more patient and loving is the Savior toward me?

I may get upset. I may even break things. But the Savior loves me still. I know I seem to relearn this lesson every few months (or weeks) or so, but it's such a vital thing for every child of God to understand.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of learning that lesson.

Part of the Family

There's a part of me that wants to write epic, creative masterpieces on my blog, so I wait until I come up with a good idea... then I just give up and decide to just talk about life instead. Hope y'all don't mind. :)

Today was unintentionally full of spur-of-the-moment decisions. Qait's older sister is moving to Texas, so she's in town for a few days, saying goodbye to a lot of Utah friends. Turns out she wanted to see me, too. So she and her husband picked me up and took me down to Payson to a family-reunion of sorts. Qait's parents were there, too, and they were so happy to see me. It's funny that, even eight years later, I still constantly underestimate how much they care about me.

You'd think I'd learn. Last year, they gave Tevan the "You take care of her, young man" speech, complete with the demonstration of dangerous weapons (Papa Boatright showed off his wickedly sharp, authentic samurai swords right before looking him dead in the eye and telling him to treat me right). It unnerved him far more than meeting my dad did. Qait told me later it's because they love me so darn much, and they want nothing but the best for me, so they were just checking to make sure the man on my arm deserved me. I was touched by their protectiveness.

Rae introduced me to her other family members as her family friend and adoptive sister. One of them remarked, "You know, she actually looks like the Boatright sisters." Rae responded that, for all intents and purposes, I was. First of all, I love it when people say that, because I feel like one of the Boatright sisters a lot of the time. Secondly, since Qait, Rae, and all of their sisters are GORGEOUS, I'm super flattered to be compared to them.

I've never felt so at home with someone else's family. Not even when I was meeting some of my then-boyfriend's siblings last year. I always try to describe how I feel about Qait's family, and I fail every time. Have you ever met someone and knew that they were your soul-mate? In the most non-romantic sense of soul-mate-ness, that's what it's like. I feel like I fit into that family as if I grew up with them.

My poor future-husband. I have double the family for him to meet and love. Not that it's hard to love either family. :)

After the Boatright family party, I came home, and Savannah offered to take me to see Qait and her new baby, Scarlett, since I was sick last week and couldn't visit. So, on that whim, we sauntered off to Orem to see my new niece. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. With her curly dark hair and HUGE dark eyes, she looks like an exotic princess and I'm completely in love. I almost couldn't bear to give her back to Qait, but Ender needed some Aunt Lynnae love (and tummy-raspberries) so I had to.

I'm so grateful to be part of such a beautiful family. Being with them is as wholesome and refreshing as being with my own biological family.

Loved

I've found a boy who loves me back! It's so wonderful. He tells me he loves me. He gives me kisses. He brings me presents. He loves my shoes. He loves me when I'm not wearing any makeup. He always wants me to do things with him. He's sad when I have to leave.

Okay, so he's three years old. ("But he's a nice man, a good catch, true? True!"--Sorry, couldn't resist the Fiddler on the Roof reference)

Oh Ender. You're leading man of my blog. I hope that when you're older, you still remember how much your Aunt Lynnae loves you, because she's crazy about you.

Life is hard sometimes. I'm uprooting my entire life, moving away from everyone I know, and going to live with strangers. I'm graduating from BYU, still single, and there are times I wonder why I even bother trying to meet guys when they're always taken, uninterested, or even just plain mean sometimes. Despite how many people know my name, know my face, and tell me that they care about me, sometimes I just feel utterly invisible--as if the world is moving on without me and I'm left floundering by myself.

But it's the times like that when the Lord likes to remind me that I'm still loved. That there are people who have eyes only for me. Ender is one of those people. That sweet little boy lights up like a firecracker whenever I walk in the door, and his little arms wrap around my neck, reminding me that, yes, I am loved. And when he curls up on my lap and begins to snore softly as I talk to his mom, well, I'm convinced that there are few things in this life that are sweeter than that.

I could fill a whole book with the charming and heartwarming things that Ender does every time I see him. Knowing him makes me look forward to parenthood, even though, thanks to Qait's baby shower this last Friday, I've heard more than my fair share of birthing horror stories (and yes, they totally freaked me out).

Ender always lifts my heart and makes me forget about everything else that worries me, and I couldn't be more grateful for that.

Ender-love

I want to be a mom. There, I said it. That is the number one goal of my entire existence: to have a family. I cloak it in my career aspirations and my lengthy lists of things to do, but if you sit down and look at my list of life goals (assuming I ever let you sit down and read it...) the vast majority have to do with being a wife and a mother.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm one of those crazy women who is on the hunt for a husband, just so she can start "multiplying and replenishing the earth" single-handedly, because that's kind of weird (and creepy).

I blame this face 100% for my ridiculous attachment
to my little nephew. He owns my heart completely.

But, I just came home from spending the evening (and wee morning hours) with Qait and her family. As you all know, her son, Ender, has me completely wrapped around his finger, and last night was no exception. I love being a part of his life. He'd grab my hand and swing around my legs, wrap his arms around my thigh, and climb around on my lap while Q and I sat on the couch talking. Even getting accidentally kicked, or having my sunburn scraped over by a lego-plane on a rescue mission was far more enjoyable than it was painful. Most of the time, I just thought how nice it would be to have a son like him.

But what really got me was when we put him to bed. For most of it, I just sat there at the end of his bed as Q read him a book, sang him a song, and helped him say his prayers. It is one of the most heartwarming things in the world to hear that tiny little voice pray to his Heavenly Father. As she sang to him, I got caught up in this mental time warp between reality and all those years ago when my mom used to pile me, Brian, and Jess on her lap and rock us to sleep singing "I Wonder When He Comes Again." Then Ender looked at me and said, "Lynnae needs a hug!" So I got up and bent over him to give him a hug and a kiss, while his little lips murmured "Love you" in my ear.

Just before we walked out of the room, Ender suddenly cried out in panic, "Mommy, I don't want to go to the dentist!!!" We'd been talking about it earlier, meaning that he'd be going to the dentist in a couple of weeks to get his teeth checked, but he thought we'd be going when he woke up in the morning. The terror in his voice about ripped my heartstrings to shreds. But all it took was his mother whispering soothingly to him to reassure him enough that he could lay quietly and go to sleep.

So many reasons I want to be a mom. Sure, there are the temper tantrums and potty training messes (and I've helped Qait with some of those) and little-boy-fascinations with dirt and mud, but, even in my limited experience, those quiet love yous and bedtime prayers and stories more than make up for the messes and tantrums.

I haven't always been good with kids. I babysat very rarely (and usually only older kids: ages 8-12) as a teenager. Sometimes I've been afraid that my maternal instincts might be underdeveloped or nonexistent, but when I look at Ender, something stirs, and I know that what I feel about my nephew will be a hundred times stronger for my own children.

I just can't wait to meet them. :)

My Little Man

So, thanks to Qait's sister Rae, I finally have a beautiful picture of the little man who completely owns my heart:

Photo by Rae

Seriously, can anyone blame me for being completely in love with him? Whenever I see him, I get hugs and kisses and every new toy offered to me for inspection. One of the last times I went over, he also asked me to be the one to read him his bedtime story. ^_^ I love being a part of his life, and I can't wait for his little sister Scarlett to join us in July. I'm so lucky to live near my best sisterfriend and her beautiful family.

Oh, and speaking of "little men" in my life, here's a warp back in time:

I used to babysit the two dapper little boys in tuxes. Ian and Christian Frogley were my adopted little brothers. Our adventures included popcorn with chocolate chips, nights of watching Newsies and Stargate, jumping off the balcony onto the trampoline, and tucking them into bed with hugs and kisses (at least from Christian. Ian was too old and "too cool" to get that snuggly with girls back then.)

And then I got to see them over Christmas...

Ian is the tall one in the back, and Christian is the one next to me in the black jacket. The rest are actually related to me, for better or worse. :)

For the record, I'm taller than the girl in the purple dress in the first picture.

That's what 8 years will do to ya.

Ender is going to grow up so fast... :(

I Love Being an Aunt

So I'm back with my every-other-Saturday post about how much I adore Ender and Qait and Michael. See, it's becoming a kind of tradition to spend every other weekend at their place in north Orem. We stay up ridiculously late (although going to bed at 4 was actually significantly earlier than last time) talking and reverting back to our teenage days and then in the morning, when Ender's actually awake, we revert back to being adults (well, mostly) so that we can take care of him.

This Saturday was made extra special by the fact that Qait's sister Rae came up from St. George with her three kids and left them with us while she did a giant photoshoot in Springville. (I still think you're a trooper, Rae! Great job on handling the nerves. I thought you did it very gracefully.)

I'm still super mad that I forgot my camera again (I even thought about it before I left...) so still no pictures of Ender, but Rae is an awesome photographer and she posts tons of pictures of her cute kids on facebook, so I conveniently thieved this picture of Reed, Savvy (Savannah), and Jaxon from her profile.

 

Aren't they so stinkin' cute? 

I think I'm completely in love with them. Ender still has first dibs on my love, of course, but these three are big contenders. Especially Savvy. My arms ache from carrying her and Ender around the playground, giving them piggy-back rides, swinging on swings with them in my lap, and rescuing them when they got stuck on the monkey bars. It's that good kind of ache, though. The kind where I move my arms, feel the pull of tight muscles, and remember how much fun I had making those muscles sore.

The one downside about all this lovely family time with Qait and Co.? I have to go back to being a single girl at the end of the day. No more potty-training, getting food, snuggling on the couch with Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, or kissing owies better. I mean, I suppose I could do that with my roommates, but something tells me that they'd really object to most of those things. I really hope they'd object to all of them, but I can't guarantee that... ;) 

All in all, it was fun. And next time, I WILL remember to bring my camera so that I can take a recent picture of Ender.

Speaking Of...

Speaking of the joys of children, I had this thought while scrubbing up Ender's mess in the bathroom, even though he's not quite old enough to do this yet.

Love you, Ender. :) Hope you continue to bring your mom and dad plenty of joy.

Practice Runs

I have a penchant for meta-writing, I've noticed. I've rewritten the start of this entry three or four times in my head already, scrapping most of them because they were commentaries on my writing. And this one is too. Meta-writing-avoidance fail.

So....

This weekend was great. Thanks for asking.

No really, though, I spent the night at Qait's, although I probably should point out that no sleeping actually occurred during nighttime hours. We have this bizarre ability to play off each other's energy to stay awake, and since neither of us seem capable of crashing at the same time, things just kept going until we went to bed out of sheer disgust at how horrendously late it was. Poor Michael. It's a miracle he doesn't hate me for keeping his wife up so late every time I come over. Granted, he's usually up with us, doing homework (this time it meant sharing various sordid and creepy details from the lives of the Russian aristocracy off and on throughout the night -- let's just say I'm glad Rasputin is dead and that he's staying that way).

Honestly, I don't regret a minute of it though, and I sincerely hope Qait doesn't either. She's always exactly the kind of antidote I need to get me through my not-so-happy days.

PIZZA ROLLS! My dinner's done! (sorry, stream-of-consciousness writing again... and meta-writing again, too. *sigh*) I'm choosing to ignore the possible discussion on the suitability of pizza rolls as a dinner. Despite my aspirations to be more refined, I often fail in favor of decreasing the wait for food getting in me.

The barely-three-hours-of-sleep-even-though-I-needed-more was worth it too, especially when I woke up to Ender bouncing around the kitchen offering all kinds of commentary on Mommy's activities and then squealing "He wake! He wake!" when he saw me sit up on the couch. Just for clarification's sake, Ender hasn't quite mastered that oh so elusive distinction between masculine and feminine pronouns yet. He knows perfectly well that I'm a girl. He just can't get the hes and shes straight. It's rather charming, really.

Ender also obligingly gave me a taste of one of the adventures of motherhood: potty training. Qait and Michael have been working with him for a week or so now, so he's got the basic idea down. The execution's a little more elusive (+10 awesomeness points if you can name the movie I just referenced). Qait ran Michael to work, so I stayed home with Ender and we turned on a movie. Within minutes, he was dancing and prancing like nobody's business, and despite the adorableness of his impromptu dance performance, years of older-sister-ness kicked in to warn me that I was witnessing the classic potty-dance. So I coaxed him into the bathroom to sit on his little chair, and surprisingly, he obeyed. Fancy that. I'm an authority figure with little kids now. Or maybe he just likes me because I'm a lot like Mom. He still managed to make a mess, but a smaller one than it would have been otherwise, and I had him all cleaned up and the bathroom all tidied by the time Qait got back.

Practice run in potty training: check.

On the flip side of all the warm fuzzies of potty training (haha. sarcasm), I also experienced that heart-stopping swoop of terror when we turned around in the music store and he wasn't immediately in sight. I'm sure it's much worse when you're a mother, but it was enough.

Practice run in mother-radar: check.

You know, I really wish I had a recent picture of him to show off. Seeing as he currently has no competition for my affections, I feel inclined to want people to ooh and aah over him. Heck, I do. He melted my heart when he told me he loved me at the end of the day on Saturday. And that was after insisting on holding my hand, wrapping his arms around my legs while we waited for Qait to pull the car around at the store, and snuggling up with me while we watched a movie.

Practice run in all the sweet, tender moments of motherhood: check.

I love my adoptive nephew. Clearly. :) There are few things as healing to the body and mind as the love of a child. Even with the bad/hard/frustrating stuff thrown in, I honestly can't imagine anything being more rewarding than raising children. And that's coming from my limited experience with my best friend's son.

The Best Medicine

I have decided. I am firmly resolute in my assertion that Qait is one of the best cures in the world for almost any negative feeling I might ever encounter. In light of my not-so-perfect (*cough* understatement *cough*) day yesterday, I called up my best friend at an hour that might be considered inappropriately late given that she has a two-year-old. But she was more than willing to let me come over anyway.

Whether she's clairvoyant, or I'm just surprisingly easy to read, she knew I needed her, and so last night was all about making things better. But see, the thing about my best friend is that she doesn't even have to consciously try. Just sticking us in the same room together is all the effort needed. We talked for hours, played various games (all of which, thanks to a surprising reversal of fortunes, I creamed her at -- you know, maybe she was trying to make me feel better, and she was letting me win...) and ran through just about every accent -- real or made up -- that you could possibly imagine. All while her ever-so-patient husband sat and composed a musical masterpiece on the computer next to us.

This morning was an adventure in cooking as we tested our culinary skills against the enigmatically gourmet-sounding Eggs Benedict. You know, like in Runaway Bride? How she says that she hates all other kinds of eggs except eggs benedict. (Yes, that came up -- frequently -- throughout the morning as we cooked).

My opinion: Julia Roberts' character is crazy. We succeeded at making eggs benedict and it just tasted so... eggy.

Hold the snarky rebuttals about how eggs are supposed to taste like eggs, please.

The principal problem is that the hollandaise sauce that you dribble over the poached-egg-on-ham-on-english-muffin is made up of EGG YOLK. And butter. Lots and lots of butter. Which I normally like. But the problem is that it's an egg sauce. Over eggs. Does that sound redundant to anyone else?

The sauce would be perfectly acceptable, delicious even, over fish (mmm). But over egg it's just a little too much. However, like the good cooks we are, (again, hold the snark, please) we ate our meal and then watched Ender smear it all over his face while we cleaned up the dishes.

 Moral of the story: eggs benedict is definitely not worth the effort of cooking it, but it was fun anyway, and also, I benefited immensely from the mood-lift Qait automatically knows how to perform.