As of Wednesday, Kenneren is in the MTC. She will be an awesome missionary! She’s wanted to serve a mission since I can remember, and she has prepared herself well. She has a strong testimony, and she works harder and loves those around her more than almost everyone I know. Watch out, Toronto!

During the send-off ceremony at the MTC, Lego did the following, in this order:

  • Needed to eat, so I fed him under a blanket
  • Spit up all over my skirt
  • Got the hiccups, which makes him fussy
  • Pooped in his diaper and leaked all over his clothes

I don’t remember much, needless to say. I do remember saying goodbye to Kenneren. Even though I’ll miss her, I am so happy for her.

Duck love

For about, oh, eight weeks now I’ve tried to think of something to blog about that didn’t involve Lego. This week I actually have a story to share.

I love ducks. They’re funny looking and cute at the same time. I mean, how would you like to look like a duck? How would you like it if you tried to talk and all that came out was a quack? The word “duck” is funny too, even outside its punny possibilities. Duck duck duck. Quack.

Yesterday, I went to check out an apartment that looked promising online, so we can decide before June 1 whether we want to renew our contract here or move someplace bigger, cheaper, or (if possible) both. While we decided not to move to the complex I visited (seriously, 400+ units? Is this an ant colony?), I did love that it had a large duck pond. And in the duck pond were ducks with their baby ducks by the dozens. If there’s anything I like more than a duck, it’s a duckling. I pointed them out to Lego, but he seemed completely uninterested, considering it was raining and cold and his vision isn’t that great yet anyway. (Sheesh, I can’t keep him out of this, can I?)

So I left the complex feeling happy feelings about ducks when I drove by a drake standing in the other lane of a busy street, poking at something with his beak. The something fluttered its wings—it was a female duck. (Is there a word for “female duck”? Also, while I’m at it, is there a word for overuse of parentheses?)

The drake was trying to help its mate fly or at least walk away, but she had been hurt badly. Meanwhile, cars were swerving to avoid hitting him because he simply would not leave her side. Some human men are less devoted to their lady loves than that.

I drove down the road feeling pretty shaken and wondering if I should go back and move the female duck to the side of the road so her mate wouldn’t get hurt too. After a block or two I decided to turn around. When I got back there, though, she was already lying in the grass, her mate standing about ten feet away. I assume someone had the same idea I did.

She was on her back, her feet feebly kicking at the rain, her neck at a crazy angle. I don’t know if this actually helped anything or if it just made me feel less helpless, but I gently turned her over so she was belly down, and I tried to place her neck in a better position so she would be as comfortable as possible in her last moments.

As I drove home, I felt a bit crazy for reacting so strongly to an injured duck. But it kind of touched me to see something like a human attachment in that drake. I also wondered if she’d been carrying his eggs—or worse, they’d hatched somewhere and now lacked a mother.

Anyway, I just wanted to share the story. It’s a bit of a downer, but I also think it shows the beauty of creatures everywhere. Sometimes it’s easy for me to think that animals are simply creatures of instinct and survival, but if they were, that drake would have followed his instinct to fly away from fast-moving cars so he could survive. He wouldn’t have stayed by his dying mate.

And that makes it all the more amazing that he did. I love ducks.


One night I was feeding Lego at 3:00 a.m. or some other unholy hour. He’d finished eating on one side and fallen asleep (as he often does). Being a practical but mean mother, I knew that he needed to eat on the other side or else he’d probably be up again before I wanted him to be up again. He also needed a diaper change. I killed two birds with one stone—I woke him up by changing his diaper.

Of course he screamed bloody murder. At first it was at the shock of being woken up by a cold, wet wipe on his butt. Then it was because he remembered how hungry he still was. Then it was anger because I was obviously hearing his hunger cries but stubbornly continued to change his diaper instead of feeding him.

The whole thing took a minute or two, and then I fed him and all was well. But as I was nursing (remember, this was now about 3:30 a.m.), I thought about how we are like the baby crying for what seems to us an eternity while God seems deaf to our cries. Why won’t He just feed us NOW?

But, as a mother, I knew the whole perspective, and Lego didn’t. I knew that that diaper would give him diaper rash if I didn’t get it off him soon. I also knew that he was still hungry, even if he was so sleepy he didn’t know it himself.

And it made me think about how many times Jon Boy and I prayed for a job, and how many times I wondered if God was listening, or if we were doing something to make us unworthy of the answer to prayer.

Now I wonder if, looking back, I’ve learned to see things by God’s perspective or if, like Lego, I’m just glad to finally get what I’ve been asking for.

Also, I wonder if there was a grand plan, a reason Jon Boy had to be unemployed for six months. Are we better people because of it? Did something happen that couldn’t have if he hadn’t been? Did it strengthen our marriage or our testimonies?

Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe.

I do know, though, that as I sat there that night thinking of how silly and short-sighted Lego was to scream about having his diaper changed, I found myself feeling less alone and frustrated than I have in a while.


I promised mackillian more pictures soon, and it’s already later than soon. Sorry!


Lego 5 days old

Bear feet

Lego sucks on the feet of this teddy bear for comfort while we are changing his diaper. Not my choice of comfort food, but to each his own.


Mommy (that’s me!) holding Lego before church on his blessing day. Jon Boy’s mom (Lego’s grandma) made the outfit for him.

Church clothes 

And I’ve just included this one because I took it on Sunday and think Lego looks quite dapper in it.

I think I’ll write a real, content-containing post in a day or two, but for now, this will have to suffice.