the best things in life are free.

Yesterday, during the last ten minutes of Sacrament meeting, Ben turned to Aaron and asked if he could use the bathroom. Aaron nodded and Ben rushed out. I was a little surprised by this because Aaron can be pretty strict when it comes to sitting reverently in church. I am the pushover that the kids come to first when they need to get a drink because Daddy usually says no. In fact, I am usually the one getting in trouble because I am talking too loud or not paying attention. I whispered to Aaron that there was only ten minutes left and Ben could have easily waited. Aaron shook his head and said, “No one should ever have to wait to go to the bathroom.”

This situation sparked a conversation just before bedtime that kept us up WAY too late. But the late-night, spontaneous conversations are some of my favorite things about marriage. Even though we both have early morning responsibilities, there’s something innocently romantic about staying up way past our bedtime, trying to keep the giggling down so we don’t wake our kids. We will definitely be paying for it today, but I think it was worth it.

Aaron age 8 (or so the back of the picture says)
He's the breakdancer in blue. Brett is the muscular karate-kid
and that cute little underwear girl is Cody-licious.
Check out her awesome blog for a good laugh!

At 11 pm, Aaron started telling me a sad story from his elementary days. In third grade, he had to go to the bathroom really bad. As he got up to ask the teacher if he could be excused, another student beat him to the punch and told the teacher he needed to use the restroom. She scolded the student, said he couldn’t be excused and had him sit back down at his desk. Aaron, being the teacher’s pet that he was, didn’t dare ask the ornery teacher anything. Instead, he sat at his desk and peed his pants. He remembers walking to the bus, keeping his lunch pail directly in front of him so that no one could see he had had an accident. And then he rode the bus home, wet. (btw, This is the first time I've had heard this story. It has never affected our decision to homeschool.. we ain’t afraid of mean teachers who make students pee their pants, although we know they’re out there.)

I find the subject of childhood memories so interesting… especially after being introduced to a book called What Your Childhood Memories Say About You... and What You Can Do About It by Kevin Leman, the best-selling author of The Birth Order Book. My sister had this book last week on our girls trip and even though I've only read the first ten pages, I've had a flood of childhood memories come back to me. Kevin Leman says that the memories we have of our childhood, along with the emotions associated with those memories shape the adults we are today. Aaron and I stayed up late talking and laughing about all the odd things we remember.

My parents moved into the house they are now living in when I was 5 years old. I have a handful of memories from the "old house" before I turned five. Thinking back on these memories, I wonder why they are the ones I've hung onto for all these years. As far as I know, none of them are significant. But then again, I have yet to finish reading the book. If I discover anything life-changing, I will be sure to let you know.

Me at age four:

I LOVED my necklace with Ernie hiding behind the number 4...

1984. My parents and their eight kids.
I am in the front wearing an itchy pink dress.
Look how Dave and I are holding hands. I've always loved him.
Scott's too tight vest and over-sized bow tie just kills me.

My oldest brother Greg (12) and me on my 4th birthday.
He is holding me up to see Chuck E on stage.
watch the dress, Greg.

One of my first memories ever is while playing at my friend Jori's house, I was probably around 4. Jori was an only child and had tons of toys. I didn't enjoy playing with her because she never shared anything and was constantly whining at her mom because I was touching things that were HERS! I remember one sunny afternoon sitting on her porch watching her drive around in her pink, battery-operated Barbie Jeep in the street. I wanted a turn, but I knew she would never give me one (she wouldn't even let me sit next to her, let alone drive it.) As I sat on the porch with my face in my hands, I remember telling myself, "I will never have one of those." Looking back, it's a terribly depressing story. Funny thing is, I don't remember associating any sad feelings with it. It was just a fact of life. I would never have asked my parents for such a thing or added it to my wish list because it was just not an option. At age four, I knew what my parents could afford and I remember accepting it, without feeling bad for myself. I honestly remember thinking that Jori needed a few siblings to teach her how to share.

Aaron and I traded several stories like this... some a bit depressing, others quite hysterical. Maybe I will dedicate this next week to writing down a few memories and hopefully some of Aaron's (if he'll give me permission, that is.) I've got to wrap things up, but I though I would end with a few early morning thoughts I had after our late night conversation. Aaron and I spent a lot of time discussing how our kids view their own childhood. Ben is now eight and has literally been raised on the saddest paychecks you've ever seen. I wonder what memories he has stored from his early years. It's been easy to teach him the value of money because we simply couldn't buy him things he wanted.. but does he feel deprived? poor? Simon will most likely have a different childhood than our older boys.. We are not making the big bucks (by any means) but the day might come when we CAN afford the things that they want. How do we say NO when we have the opportunity to say YES? Honestly, one of my greatest fears is raising spoiled children.. especially teenagers who just expect to get what they want. The curse of being a rich parent is living with a child who thinks they deserve everything...

Anyway, I am pretty sure I'm sleep deprived and I 'm starting to ramble. I just really want to keep our home as simple and modest as possible. Life is fast-paced and it's only going to get crazier from here on out. Raising strong, appreciative kids is such a hard thing to do nowadays. After reading a bit of Pioneer Woman's blog, I am seriously ready to sell everything we own and move out in the middle of nowhere. Why am I jealous of the farm life? Is there really hope for our kids if we raise them in a fast-paced, big city? I hope so.

And really, nothing against only children or battery-operated Jeeps, but I will NEVER buy one for my kids... If they're upset about it, they can blame it on spoiled-rotten Jori. And they can thank Aaron's mean teacher for letting them go to the bathroom anytime they want.