Sunday, June 10, 2012
Back from the Orient...again.
Friday, December 19, 2008
A Christmas Story by Jojo Chavez
The night before the night before Christmas
It was almost Christmas and Santa was SICK!
“What will I do?”, said Santa.
“You will have to stay in bed”, said Mrs. Claus.
The elves were sad that Santa was sick
Santa was sad, he thought it was over, but then…
Santa had an idea. Mrs. Claus would take place for Santa.
So later that day Mrs. Claus tried to drive the sleigh.
She could not stay on so Santa had to think of another idea.
So he thought and he thought and he thought
and he got an idea.
Two elves would stack on each other
but they were too skinny.
So he thought and he thought and he thought
and he got an idea.
If last time hot cocoa worked, then it will work this time.
So Mrs. Claus made hot cocoa so Santa drank some hot cocoa, but it didn’t work.
Mrs. Claus said, “Go back to bed”. “Okay”, said Santa.
Mrs. Claus read Santa a book and Mrs. Claus got sick.
Santa said, “Mrs. Claus, after I deliver the toys, I will take care of you.”
The End
It was almost Christmas and Santa was SICK!
“What will I do?”, said Santa.
“You will have to stay in bed”, said Mrs. Claus.
The elves were sad that Santa was sick
Santa was sad, he thought it was over, but then…
Santa had an idea. Mrs. Claus would take place for Santa.
So later that day Mrs. Claus tried to drive the sleigh.
She could not stay on so Santa had to think of another idea.
So he thought and he thought and he thought
and he got an idea.
Two elves would stack on each other
but they were too skinny.
So he thought and he thought and he thought
and he got an idea.
If last time hot cocoa worked, then it will work this time.
So Mrs. Claus made hot cocoa so Santa drank some hot cocoa, but it didn’t work.
Mrs. Claus said, “Go back to bed”. “Okay”, said Santa.
Mrs. Claus read Santa a book and Mrs. Claus got sick.
Santa said, “Mrs. Claus, after I deliver the toys, I will take care of you.”
The End
-by Jojo Chavez, 12/19/2008
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Q.C.
10 years ago I met a beautiful young woman who was such a stark contrast to the girl I was dating, I had to end things with my girlfriend and start pursuing her regardless of the consequences. I noticed her at a young single adult church branch I was only visiting.
It's hard to describe what I noticed about her. Singles wards were not established to be a place to get noticed, but they often have that reputation. Like peacocks young women (and young men) sometimes prance around hoping to get noticed. What I noticed about this girl is that she did not care to be noticed. As we stood in the cultural hall of her ward building, waiting for a potluck lunch to start, what she did seem to care about, was making the people of her ward feel welcomed. There were many other things I noticed about her that day that I'll keep to myself!
I was blessed to get invited to her home a few months later. Her family was warm and inviting (By the way, I can talk all I want about them in this blog because they rarely use the internet, he he). I started noticing a quality about her family that I haven't been able to assign a phrase to in ten years of admiration. But I heard a phrase that fits perfectly today as I listened to our inspired stake president give our ward counsel in sacrament meeting. He said that we need to be "quietly consistent" in living the gospel of Jesus Christ. Yeah, doesn't that sound like a cool phrase? Well to me it does, and I am anything but quiet or consistent. But I really like the idea.
As I think about my years of friendship to my wife's family, what stands out most about their way of life, is their quiet consistency. It is so refreshing to be around people who don't want the lime light, but want to get the job done right...completely...every time. I know that those who know me are probably going to do a quick introspection (or wonder why someone who has none of this quality would want to write about it and expose himself as lacking) and that is not my intent. I just noticed this family has this stuff overflowing and I wanted to tell the world. As a society, we (I) could sure use more.
It's hard to describe what I noticed about her. Singles wards were not established to be a place to get noticed, but they often have that reputation. Like peacocks young women (and young men) sometimes prance around hoping to get noticed. What I noticed about this girl is that she did not care to be noticed. As we stood in the cultural hall of her ward building, waiting for a potluck lunch to start, what she did seem to care about, was making the people of her ward feel welcomed. There were many other things I noticed about her that day that I'll keep to myself!
I was blessed to get invited to her home a few months later. Her family was warm and inviting (By the way, I can talk all I want about them in this blog because they rarely use the internet, he he). I started noticing a quality about her family that I haven't been able to assign a phrase to in ten years of admiration. But I heard a phrase that fits perfectly today as I listened to our inspired stake president give our ward counsel in sacrament meeting. He said that we need to be "quietly consistent" in living the gospel of Jesus Christ. Yeah, doesn't that sound like a cool phrase? Well to me it does, and I am anything but quiet or consistent. But I really like the idea.
As I think about my years of friendship to my wife's family, what stands out most about their way of life, is their quiet consistency. It is so refreshing to be around people who don't want the lime light, but want to get the job done right...completely...every time. I know that those who know me are probably going to do a quick introspection (or wonder why someone who has none of this quality would want to write about it and expose himself as lacking) and that is not my intent. I just noticed this family has this stuff overflowing and I wanted to tell the world. As a society, we (I) could sure use more.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Becoming a Christian
Thanks for the modified picture, Glenn!Okay, those of you who really know us, know our 3rd child, Chewy, has been a handful for more the so called "terrible twos". Who defined it as such a short time I want to know! We've got video proof of his 3 year old birthday party that that phase didn't end on time! No reason hitting and taking and not helping have been just parts of his personality.
Anyway, something's happened. We have used every dirty trick in the book to get Chewy to start paying attention to when he needs to go to the restroom (he calls it the restaurant). But a month ago he figured out what was going on down below, and the average thickness of his diaper is not all that changed. That success (though it's still an every hour celebration of even a trickle) has translated into other things we have been hoping for, for years. He has graduated from "It's mine" to "that's not fair" - meaning that if he gets a popsicle, he'll make sure his brothers have one too. Can't wait 'til he graduates from fairness to charity (baby steps Miguel...keep it real).
We're enjoying this new success that came with potty training. He's sweeter and more caring. He's more expressive lately and even a bit more responsible (okay, I'm pushing it). So look for it next time you see us. He's better, he's really doing better!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Opening the Peaches Jar
Last night I woke up around 3am to our youngest, Tummy, crying from his room.
I noticed (as usual) that Dill had already gotten up with him, so obviously he was being taken care of and I could go back to La La Land.
It was hard to ignore that crying. Minutes later, Dill comes storming in, shrugging and frustrated that the crying continues. I give my groggy, one liner advice and she huffs because I hadn't even thought to get out of bed. I can tell she's still frustrated but we remain silent and listen to our unsilent baby in the next room for a few minutes. Then my bride reminds me that the binky withdrawals we've waded through the last week and half was my idea. So I peeled my unwilling body off of our warm bed and start dressing.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
"I'm going to get a BINKY!"
"Then we'll have to do this whole thing AGAIN!?!"
"What do you want me to do!?!"
I'll stop right there. She climbed in bed and I took my turn trying to sooth Mr. Loud. Within a few minutes, he was ASLEEP!
Now you can ask about the title (maybe you've already guessed it). Getting Thomas to sleep quickly is like opening a peaches jar. Each time Dill chooses to have peaches, she grabs a jar from the pantry and starts twisting. After a few worthy tries, she inevitably hands the jar to me. I twist and the lid comes off.
The point here is that I can't take the credit for the lid, the quick switch to sleeping or well behaved kids (I can only say that about a few of them anyway). I owe about 99.9% of it to a great wife, a loving Heavenly Father, and personalities that just came to us from Heaven.
I noticed (as usual) that Dill had already gotten up with him, so obviously he was being taken care of and I could go back to La La Land.
It was hard to ignore that crying. Minutes later, Dill comes storming in, shrugging and frustrated that the crying continues. I give my groggy, one liner advice and she huffs because I hadn't even thought to get out of bed. I can tell she's still frustrated but we remain silent and listen to our unsilent baby in the next room for a few minutes. Then my bride reminds me that the binky withdrawals we've waded through the last week and half was my idea. So I peeled my unwilling body off of our warm bed and start dressing.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
"I'm going to get a BINKY!"
"Then we'll have to do this whole thing AGAIN!?!"
"What do you want me to do!?!"
I'll stop right there. She climbed in bed and I took my turn trying to sooth Mr. Loud. Within a few minutes, he was ASLEEP!
Now you can ask about the title (maybe you've already guessed it). Getting Thomas to sleep quickly is like opening a peaches jar. Each time Dill chooses to have peaches, she grabs a jar from the pantry and starts twisting. After a few worthy tries, she inevitably hands the jar to me. I twist and the lid comes off.
The point here is that I can't take the credit for the lid, the quick switch to sleeping or well behaved kids (I can only say that about a few of them anyway). I owe about 99.9% of it to a great wife, a loving Heavenly Father, and personalities that just came to us from Heaven.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Stages
You know his name. It's quite important to us. But for privacy purposes, we're sending the rest of his life story as "Tummy". 
Since we're so far apart, I'm sending a report on which stage each child is in. It has been fun to look at these stages because we can all relate somehow.
Tummy, as did all of his siblings at this age, is getting bigger. It's hard to say he's getting taller when the only noticeable progress has been to his girth. We're very proud of him, for no other growth is more natural or expected - especially for a mix of our two families. We thought without mother's milk, he'd be leaner, but our babies just come out ready to pack it in. Tummy takes one nap a day that is longer than 2 hours. It starts at 1am and lasts until 6am if we're lucky. Using formula and tag teaming, it's not as bad as it sounds. He tries desperately at this age to catch with his only controllable tool (his mouth) the two limbs swinging at him during the day, and hates a messy diaper. The clothes makers are WAY off on their prediction of what age their outfits are for and we're starting a grass roots campaign to remedy that. Tummy is particularly frustrated that he only gets to wear an outfit 2 or 3 times before it's shipped to a lucky relative.
Chewy is still Chewy. Only our Chewy's much more aggressive than Solo's Chewy. He hits, he pushes, he taunts and he climbs. He's as daring as a paratrooper and as remorseful as a wild bull who just bucked a rookie cowboy off his back. He plays so hard and I think Tummy's taking naps FOR him! There is no other explanation of how he can keep going as he does. He knows how to pronounce every vowel, but has a favorite consonant, "d". When we wrestle, he doesn't say, "Do it again Daddy!" He says, "Do dadden, Daddy!" So we give him more phrases so we can see how it sounds in all "d"s. Really, we're the creative ones, not him! He hasn't learned that volunteering himself can be a bad thing. So when we ask who had the cookies saved for Dad (who didn't get any while at work), he'll raise his hand in sheer joy that he's part of someone's conversation. Another example is if I get the kids cheering about fun things we want to do on a Saturday. I've got them all raising their hands at every suggestion, and then I ask who wants to jump of a cliff and he'll raise his hand in jubilation, and then realize no one else wants to do it. He'll now express something and we'll all look at each other and see who would be willing to translate!
Jojo Chavez fits all my theories. I believe he's calm because his older sibling was a girl. At 5 he is interested in fixing things because his dad gives him a few minutes with the broken item before showing what needs to be done. He's a pouter right now, but he's also a morning person. If I want a buddy at 6am, I go wake up that little guy (no, I don't really wake him up at that time, but the theory has been proven). Jojo Chavez is so very fair, so very equal, so very easy to hurt, because we'll arrive at one of his and Chewy's many squabbles and blame the older, wiser brother, when really, with any investigation at all, we'd find in 90% of the situations, it's Chewy. (If we ever get to living in Utah, watch out cousins!!!) Back to Jojo, the poor kid always defaults to the hard, slow way of doing things and it drives his parents nuts. We give him time with a task assigned but after awhile we just can't stand it anymore and we show him how painful his chore is to us! He always returns a smile with the lesson taught and digs in with the new way. That is what Jesus meant when he said to become like a little child.
Maggy is golden. She's perfect. Maybe not perfect, she is missing teeth and she did get a word misspelled once last year on her spelling test. Yeah, I'm serious, her imperfections are that ridiculous. We're sitting with the missionaries after dinner and every answer she gives them about the gospel is textbook. In primary today, she was selected as primary star and her favorite things were read. The primary president asked her to explain an odd answer she gave for a time she'd felt the Spirit. She explained that once her family was driving around looking for dad (to cheer him on) who was on a long run training for the marathon. She prayed he'd call and he called Mom's cell phone. Every public comment she makes, every picture she takes, every desire she has, is in the right place. How long can I reasonably expect this to last? There are drawbacks though. She is a daddy's girl. Whatever I say goes because she wants to please me, and it drives her mother crazy. If I voice my opinion about something before her, she will assume that opinion. She loves losing teeth and she loves to dance and sing and is now practicing the piano - uh keyboard, officially. She has unspokenly figured out about Santa, but doesn't think we know she knows. So all three of us oldest continue talking like Ol' Saint Nick's coming next year - what you'll do to not spoil the magic!
Hope you enjoyed these stages. They won't last long in life, but now they'll last on paper. We wish you a Happy Chinese New Year (very important to Dill, which makes it important to us) and we'll let you guess which animal represents each of us from the Chinese horoscope.
Since we're so far apart, I'm sending a report on which stage each child is in. It has been fun to look at these stages because we can all relate somehow.
Tummy, as did all of his siblings at this age, is getting bigger. It's hard to say he's getting taller when the only noticeable progress has been to his girth. We're very proud of him, for no other growth is more natural or expected - especially for a mix of our two families. We thought without mother's milk, he'd be leaner, but our babies just come out ready to pack it in. Tummy takes one nap a day that is longer than 2 hours. It starts at 1am and lasts until 6am if we're lucky. Using formula and tag teaming, it's not as bad as it sounds. He tries desperately at this age to catch with his only controllable tool (his mouth) the two limbs swinging at him during the day, and hates a messy diaper. The clothes makers are WAY off on their prediction of what age their outfits are for and we're starting a grass roots campaign to remedy that. Tummy is particularly frustrated that he only gets to wear an outfit 2 or 3 times before it's shipped to a lucky relative.
Chewy is still Chewy. Only our Chewy's much more aggressive than Solo's Chewy. He hits, he pushes, he taunts and he climbs. He's as daring as a paratrooper and as remorseful as a wild bull who just bucked a rookie cowboy off his back. He plays so hard and I think Tummy's taking naps FOR him! There is no other explanation of how he can keep going as he does. He knows how to pronounce every vowel, but has a favorite consonant, "d". When we wrestle, he doesn't say, "Do it again Daddy!" He says, "Do dadden, Daddy!" So we give him more phrases so we can see how it sounds in all "d"s. Really, we're the creative ones, not him! He hasn't learned that volunteering himself can be a bad thing. So when we ask who had the cookies saved for Dad (who didn't get any while at work), he'll raise his hand in sheer joy that he's part of someone's conversation. Another example is if I get the kids cheering about fun things we want to do on a Saturday. I've got them all raising their hands at every suggestion, and then I ask who wants to jump of a cliff and he'll raise his hand in jubilation, and then realize no one else wants to do it. He'll now express something and we'll all look at each other and see who would be willing to translate!
Jojo Chavez fits all my theories. I believe he's calm because his older sibling was a girl. At 5 he is interested in fixing things because his dad gives him a few minutes with the broken item before showing what needs to be done. He's a pouter right now, but he's also a morning person. If I want a buddy at 6am, I go wake up that little guy (no, I don't really wake him up at that time, but the theory has been proven). Jojo Chavez is so very fair, so very equal, so very easy to hurt, because we'll arrive at one of his and Chewy's many squabbles and blame the older, wiser brother, when really, with any investigation at all, we'd find in 90% of the situations, it's Chewy. (If we ever get to living in Utah, watch out cousins!!!) Back to Jojo, the poor kid always defaults to the hard, slow way of doing things and it drives his parents nuts. We give him time with a task assigned but after awhile we just can't stand it anymore and we show him how painful his chore is to us! He always returns a smile with the lesson taught and digs in with the new way. That is what Jesus meant when he said to become like a little child.
Maggy is golden. She's perfect. Maybe not perfect, she is missing teeth and she did get a word misspelled once last year on her spelling test. Yeah, I'm serious, her imperfections are that ridiculous. We're sitting with the missionaries after dinner and every answer she gives them about the gospel is textbook. In primary today, she was selected as primary star and her favorite things were read. The primary president asked her to explain an odd answer she gave for a time she'd felt the Spirit. She explained that once her family was driving around looking for dad (to cheer him on) who was on a long run training for the marathon. She prayed he'd call and he called Mom's cell phone. Every public comment she makes, every picture she takes, every desire she has, is in the right place. How long can I reasonably expect this to last? There are drawbacks though. She is a daddy's girl. Whatever I say goes because she wants to please me, and it drives her mother crazy. If I voice my opinion about something before her, she will assume that opinion. She loves losing teeth and she loves to dance and sing and is now practicing the piano - uh keyboard, officially. She has unspokenly figured out about Santa, but doesn't think we know she knows. So all three of us oldest continue talking like Ol' Saint Nick's coming next year - what you'll do to not spoil the magic!
Hope you enjoyed these stages. They won't last long in life, but now they'll last on paper. We wish you a Happy Chinese New Year (very important to Dill, which makes it important to us) and we'll let you guess which animal represents each of us from the Chinese horoscope.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Revolutions.
No, I didn't spell resolutions wrong. For me, I'm usually recycling resolutions I wanted to conquer years prior, so this is just another revolution of other years' attempts. But this year I'm not going to expect to really conquer the goal. I'm just going to be pleasantly surprised with each new week the goal is still being accomplished.
This year's goal is to wean myself from the world. To wean means to gradually withdraw from some object, habit, form of enjoyment, or the like. I like that definition because it's going to take all year. I love email, internet news , gaming, movies and music. These are not bad things if in moderation. But they certainly are time fillers and at this time in my life, I need to buy some time back. In fact, right now I would be better off budgeting time than money! Here is an example that illustrates the importance.
Every night Dill and I are parallel processing house work. On more than a few nights a week, only one of us is home and trying to get dishes done and keep the baby happy while getting the kids to clean their rooms and get ready for bed. On my shift, I am constantly walking back and forth from kids' rooms ( to rekindle the cleaning objective) to kitchen ( to clean the kitchen or wash baby bottles) to our bedroom (watch television). Isn't that STUPID!?! What is this strong draw to television? Where has my work ethic gone and my desire to be with my kids? How are they going to learn to work if I don't work with them? What on tv is worth the pacing, the nagging and the carpet wear I'm causing? What importance of television am I teaching my children that I must run to my room to watch between naggings? It's ridiculous and I know that. So that's my goal, stop caring so much about the world. I gain nothing from most of it. What gets me in hindsight is that I'm again having to temper it all at 32 years old when I've been on a mission and married a woman who daily personifies where our time should be spent. That should make it easier, shouldn't it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
