"Lily and Emma, Come in the boys room, let's have prayer!"
It's Friday night, 9:30, the kids are complaining about not being able to stay up later, but I know what it is like the next day if they do so. . . off to bed they go. Even though they complain, as soon as their teeth are brushed, their hands are washed, cozies are on, their heads hit the pillow they start drifting away to slumber land. . .
"C'mon girls, we are ready for prayer." Will and I have been cleaning up the boys room: little lego bricks strewn haphazardly around, books shuffled between bed clothes, blocks stacked, guys here and there. (Guys is our name for any boy toys that are fabricated out of plastic. They can be animals, monsters, GI Joes, cowboys, indians, star wars, spider men, bat men, (notice I use the plural) disney, happy meal etc. This name originated with Mitch and stuck. Is it just me, or are boy toys absolutely ugly and scarey. I don't know, but they love them.)
Will is working his tail end off as Owen lays on the bed with his feet up. O is still in a cast and will need to be for the next 4 - 6 weeks with crutches because the DR. misdiagnosed the treatment. Although he has been in a cast for 5 weeks already it was a walking cast and so it was all for naught! BLAST! completely unfair for a four year old. But he is enjoying kicking back as his brother picks up all the toys.
I have to leave the room to put some clothes in the laundry. Smack! then a whale of a cry. When I left the room, Will retaliated by winding up and pitching a fastball of a stuffed animal at Owen's face. Time for hugs and reconciliation.
"Lils, Ems, come in."
"Mmmmoooooooooommmmmmmm!" in a dramatically whiny tone, "we are already in bed. We are tired. Why do we have to go in therrrrre." Dutifully, Lily gets out of bed and comes into the room. Emma stomps to the door and shouts, "I'm not coming."
"Thank you Lily for choosing to join us!" Emma doesn't fall for the positive reinforcement trick and chooses to go back to bed.
Since Richard and Mitch aren't here at the moment, I ask Will to call on someone for the prayer. Will looks around lazily with a grin on his face. He likes it when he gets to be the man of the house. Owen, shouts, I want to give the prayer! Will looks at each of us and then says, "I want Emma to give the prayer." Emma is still in her bedroom exercising her rights to a sit out of family prayer.
"Emma, Will would like you to pray." pause, no answer. "Will, Emma chose not to join us, who else would you like to ask?" Owen shouts, "I want to say the prayer. I want to say the prayer." Will looks at him and chooses Lily.
"I said it yesterday" Lily says lazily. At this point I know I have to take over and I ask Owen to say the prayer. He excitedly agrees, sits up next to me and begins.
"Dear Heavenly Fader. . ." at this point he looks up and says, "will you help me. . ."
"Sure," I whisper, "thank you for this day. "
"Thank you for this day. . ." then I tell him to thank Heavenly Father for what ever he wants to thank him for, what ever makes him happy. So Owen jumps right to the meat of his issues, "help my leg, help me to get out of my cast, help me to jump on the trampoyeen, help me with my crutches." Good stuff! I am glad he knows he can ask for help. We close after blessing the family and our night sleep with an Amen.
The children disperse to their beds, which is just Lily because Emma never left hers. I give kisses to Owen and Will and tell them I will be right back after say goodnights to Lily and Emma. Most nights I have to sing and scratch the boys backs, but I am hoping they might go right to sleep as I look at my watch and find that it is now 10pm. Lily is cuddled in already and Emma is laying comfortably with a wash cloth on her forehead. I ask Lily about her week in school and she tells me about the 3D map they made today. Ryan, Lily's desk partner won Rock, Paper, Scissors so he got to take it home, but we will be able to see it at open house.
"MOM!" Owen shouts in a terse sounding cry. "MOM! I'M SCARED!"
I give Lily a kiss and make my way over to Emma, who is pretending to be asleep. I am perturbed she ignored me when I asked her come into pray and felt like being ornery, but when I lean over her and see her sweet face I remember it never works when I am angry so I tickle her arm and quietly say,. . .
"MOM! . . .MOMMY! . . . MOM! . . .I am scared!" Owen cries from the other room.
"Emma, I know your awake." She turns over with a grin and smiles at me. "I need you to come to pray with us. We need you and you need to be there. Will you come next time?" She shakes her head yes and I give her a kiss.
"MOM! MOM! I am scared." the shrill determined pleadings continue as I leave the girls room and re-enter to boys. "Mom, the pictures scare me!" he says as he points around the room to each picture, showing me the culprits. I suggest that he change his thoughts and think about something different. Think about something happy. He looks at me and continues to point to the pictures, as if to say, do you not see what is around me. Can you not see these fearsome things. Then he looks me in the eye and says holding up three fingers, "Mom, you have free choices, one thing is you lay wif me. Anoder choice is you turn on the lights so I can see. Third choice is you sweep wif me." He looks at me plainly and logically and so I must make my choice. I look back very seriously, considering my options. Really though I am smiling inside at his ability to negotiate the situation and realizing he is mimicking the same tactics I use with him.
"Okay," I say, as I look into his serious little eyes, "I chose to turn on the lights."
"Okay," he says with a smile as big as a plate. I swear I could serve a whole dozen cookies on that smile. I give him big kisses (two kisses and two hugs) and then stand up to leave. Will looks up from his pillow and asks me to sing. I escaped Owen, but not Will. He loves the routine and loves the touch, so he rolls over and exposes his back.
"Will, what do you want me to sing?" I ask. He looks at me over his shoulder incredulously. I have been singing him the same song almost everyday of his life. I ask him every so often so that I might perhaps get a change, some times I just start singing another song just to see if he will let me, he rarely does.
"The Flower song!" he says shaking his head. And so I begin. . . I often go walking, in meadows clover. . .And I gather round me, flowers of Spring. I gather these flowers, the whole meadow over, dear William, these flowers, remind me of you. . .I continue to hum as I put my cheek next to his and continue to scratch his back. Will's eyes flutter to sleep and I kiss him on the cheek. As I leave the room with the light on, I know exactly what I need to write in my blog tonight!
(Carp)e Diem! 
Camp is different for kids than it is for adults.
dinosaurs, dirt, exploring, exchanging, running, jumping, climbing, eating, sharing, crying, bumps and bruises and some short fuses, messy faces, dirty nails, chasing the train on the rails. But for the adults, camp is all about setting up tents, making dinners, cleaning dishes, eating, making breakfast, eating, cleaning dishes, making lunches, packing for the beach, making dinner, eating, cleaning dishes, bon fire, bed, making breakfast, eating, doing dishes, making lunches, and so on. I guess you could say it is a lot like home, only there is a lot more dirt around and you get to have all your favorite 
people around you. It is a lot like compound living. I kind of like it. I think I could get used to it, in fact that was a topic of discussion during the trip. Instead of me being in charge of all the meals I have the help of all these other great cooks. You get to talk and laugh while cooking and cleaning. A pretty good gig.
