For Love of Our Daughter

To the young man who seems to have captured the attention of our daughter, and maybe a small portion of her heart~

Looking at our beautiful daughter objectively, (*smile*) this should come as no surprise to us. It was wholly inevitable, and yet, it still has caught us completely off-guard.

Before we begin, let me make something very clear to you.  Let there be no mistake here.
We already like you.

You have recognized the beauty and the joy that is our daughter, and you have responded. She has touched you in some way , and we think you have impeccable taste.

Let me speak now to some specifics.

I've been watching this all unfold.  And you have been so patient and persistent in your pursuit, it's admirable.

I would pick my daughter up from school, and she'd flop into the passenger seat rolling her eyes and throwing up her hands at your latest antics and jokes, recounting your absurdity, shaking her head and laughing.  Her emphatic "so annoying!" becoming heard less and less after your name, and her eyes lighting up more and more as the weeks went by.

I watched you.  You drifted around the periphery of her life, weaving to and fro to find your place, eventually planting yourself firmly by her side.  Cracking jokes, making her laugh, listening intently.  A true gentleman, you waited patiently for the day she would suddenly, and quite surprisingly, realize that she wanted you by her side.

Know that you are both very young.  And even though we are impressed by the maturity each of you has exhibited thus far, we do have some reservations.

Our wish for you both is that this time in your lives be filled with joy and laughter.   That your time together be an abundance of true friendship and fun.  Above all, that you both handle the other with gentleness. That your hearts remain whole and unblemished if and when this season comes to a close.

And that, in ten years, you are able to look back on this time with sweet remembrance... and no regrets.

:)

Building Up

I just don't want to get in the way of who my kids are supposed to be. 


An older mom in my bookclub summed up her parenting philosophy in this one sentence. She, who has 2 daughters married, 4 grandchildren, and her youngest a mere 8 years old, is always someone I keep tabs on. I listen extra hard when she speaks. I like her family, love her kids, and want to know more, always more. But she is reluctant. She doesn't have all the answers...


Not a single one of us does.


I look back at the early years with my most erm... challenging.... child. That would be Little Boo.

She entered the world innocently enough.


Then, as she grew older, and her personality emerged, she totally rocked it.

She became THAT child.

The child who needed to push the buttons on the microwave to warm her bottle.
The child who would put her own shirt on, backwards if need be thankyouverymuch.

The child who could feed herself, climb up and down from the table by herself, and wash her hands... all by herself.

The child who insisted on buckling herself in her car seat. Even though she had tried 24 times to do it and failed. Even though her siblings were ready to scream in frustration. Even though her mom wanted to leave, no one was allowed to MOVE (esp the car... don't even THINK about inching down the driveway while she's attempting time #25...) until she is securely buckled. (damn those 3-point harnesses)

THAT was my Little Boo.

And now....

Now, my Little Boo is a true joy, genuinely funny, and a real help. She comes out with the best comments. She has a hilarious outlook on life. She was a huge help with Little Dude during his fussiest moments. And lately, she has been known to come home from school, dump her stuff in the home school room, and scrub the entire kitchen top to bottom. Just because she wanted to.

How did this metamorphosis occur?

I wish I had an answer. I wish I could say I followed thus and such philosophy of parenting. I wish I could point you to THAT book that was the key to our seeming (read: insert huge disclaimer here) success.

It was nothing I did. I think it was more what I didn't do.

I went with it. Whatever she thought she could do, as long as it wasn't dangerous, I let her do it.
Case in point...  At the age of 2, she was climbing in and out of her crib at 3 in the morning, turning all the lights on in the house and playing. To me, that was dangerous. She could have probably opened the front door and walked down the street. So, we bought a crib tent and zipped her in it every night.
But by the age of 3 and a half? She slept on the top bunk of the bunk beds she shared with Little Dear. I knew she could climb steadily and would not fall. She was definitely the more sure-footed one of the two. And? She stayed in bed... no night time wanderings.

The car seat fiascos? Sigh. Yes.... every time we had to go somewhere, we got in the car 15 minutes before we had to leave just so she could buckle herself. I know some of you are shaking your heads... sucker, you are saying. Well, Little Boo would scream for HOURS if I buckled her in. Trust me, we tried quite a few times... and I do NOT exaggerate. It would be HOURS of shrill screaming. An extra 15 minutes was worth hours of peace and happiness, as far as I was concerned.

I guess my philosophy was a lot like the mom I admire. I didn't want to break Little Boo's spirit. I didn't want to mess it up. I wanted to form her and mold her as best as my fumbling hands could. 

I'm not perfect. I know there were things I could have done better. But God has abundantly blessed my meager efforts. Little Boo is a very driven little girl. She is super organized, and very diligent with her school work. So much so that putting her in school was a necessity. The fluidity of homeschooling would have killed her. It was, in fact, frustrating her to no end.

Her competitiveness is apparent on the soccer field. She plays on 2 teams, still. She loves it. And while she is competitive, she is also a fiercely loyal friend. If people are not kind, or the other team is too rough, she goes into defensive mode like nobody's business. She sticks up for her friends and gives back what the other team dishes out. She is not afraid to make a stand.

Her gentleness reveals itself in her ability to identify with others and their feelings. She is very sensitive, and sometimes with her hilarious comments and toughie exterior, I forget that. But she senses when others have been wronged, and comes to me... concerned. She doesn't always get it right. Sometimes she makes assumptions about intentions that aren't there... we are working on that. But at least her intuition is being honed. And I love that she feels comfortable enough to chat with me about it all.


They are all so delightfully unique. And there are no pat answers.
If you have your own Little Boo, and are in the thick of it... hang in there!
I know it can be daunting....

And yet... the peace of knowing that no matter what, God blesses our efforts, He knows our hearts...

When we get a glimpse of the fruits? It's such an awesome thing.

:)

Our Place of Refuge

I've written about our lake before.  And you all know how much we love to whip out there and spend some time in the sun...

But yesterday,  we had some introductions to make.

But Mom, Little Dude has been to the lake....

What a difference 3 months makes. Now he walks, and explores.
Back then, he nursed and slept.

He had not made a real friendship with our peaceful haven, yet.

But yesterday... he ventured out.  We even took off his shoes and let him feel the water and the mud. (yes, it's Texas... icky mud) He wasn't thrilled, preferring to stay on the pebbly sand.

He watched his siblings as they wound their way along the water's edge.

The lake level was low.  Very low. Nothing like getting back to nature to witness how bad the drought is, firsthand.

The kids examined the newly exposed sand, and what emerges when the layers of water are peeled back. A sobering experience, to be sure. But nature is always beautiful, and they came back jubilant with their treasures.

Fall in Texas is a time of brown colors and long shadows. Even in the height of the afternoon, the light is slanted and the sun has whitened.

This old Mama is learning, though. I'm learning to enjoy the seasons as they come.
I'm learning that we don't pass this way again.

We need to pause. We need to breathe it all in with everything we have.

:)

Regarding "Obli-cations"

DH answered the salesman's questions while I bounced Little Dude on my knees. We were just launching into our 90 minute presentation on "owning a piece of paradise"... just to get some free nights at Great Wolf Lodge for our peanuts.

Yes, we are nuts.  And NO. We will NEVER do that again. (because it took 3 hours... no joke. Ugh.)

Anyway... I was soundly ignoring Mr. Greasy-dude and concentrating on Mr. Cutie-Pie Little Dude when suddenly the Greasy Dude said something truly maddening. He dismissed our family vacations as OBLI-CATIONS.  As in, we are OBLIGATED to go VACATION with FAMILY.

Oh, horrors.

This guy was pitching water parks and sandy beaches just hours away.  Horseback rides and canoe trips, fully stocked kitchens and family time in a condo that is 1/3 the size of my house.

This guy didn't have a bloody clue what he was talking about.

Your poor kids, he said. Never went on a real vacation.

Excuse me?

No really. Are you serious, buddy? I almost spit my free coffee at him.

Our poor kids have seen more and done more than I ever did at their age. We have carted them through most of the U.S. -west of the Mississippi, and all courtesy of... family, and our horrific OBLI-CATIONS.

Hot Springs, skiing, Aquarium, Castle-hopping, sledding... all in Colorado.
The ocean, In-and-Out, Disneyland... in California.
Farms, friends, horses, goats... in Wisconsin.
Our amazing trip to CANADA this summer...kayaking, playing with cousins, jet-skiing, 4-wheeling, water parks, picnics, bon-fires, oh my gosh.... so much fun!

We are so lucky to have generous family and friends who live in such amazingly beautiful places, and encourage us to visit often. 

Our kids come away from every single trip with about a billion stories to tell. And they tell them for years.

Every place we visit is filled with people who love the kids, who play with them and listen to them.  They connect because we are family. And it is a joy to be with family.

When I picked the 3 kids up from school and explained where we had been all morning, they were indignant at the way Greasy Dude described our vacations. (Action Man very helpfully offered to go punch him in the face.) And they all wanted to go back and tell him exactly why he was so very wrong to make fun of our family vacations.

It was heartening to hear them jump to defend what we hold dear. And while I'm sure that someday we will be able to grab a week on the beach with "just us"... I'm happy to know that our crazy family road trips are carving out real memories.

And, yeah...  we'll take a rain-check on owning a bit of paradise.

Without all of our family around, it sounds kinda boring to us.


:)

Autumn Babymoons

Autumn is babymoon time for me. All of my children were born in late summer, early autumn. (And so, by default, Spring is morning-sickness time.  Unfortunately, I feel inexplicably ill on certain spring mornings... my body's way of remembering, I guess...lol)

 
There is a slight crispness to the air as I recline in bed, nursing Little Dude to sleep.  The curtains dance in our bedroom... and the evening is quiet.

I hold Little Dude close, smell his babyness, and sigh, remembering....

I remember how fragile I feel, just home from the hospital.  That first evening home I made it as far as the chair in the front living room. It was Halloween, and I wanted to see the comings and goings in the neighborhood, wanted to see my own peanuts as they waltzed out the door, and their excited faces as they came racing back in with their Dad and Grandpa, spreading their bounty on the floor, eager to share....

I remember not realizing that by parking myself in the front living room, I'd made myself available to the sweaty, make-up laden teenagers from down the street eager to see and (eek!) touch my precious 3 day old babe.... their wonder and excitement was contagious, though. And I discreetly wiped the.. erm... fake blood from Little Dude's cheek. 

And later that night, piling pillows all around, laying in my own bed... struggling to care for this littlest life, I remember the hot tears. The recovery is always difficult for me, and caring for such a helpless one while feeling so helpless myself compounds my hopelessness. The hot tears are cooled in the night breeze, the strong arms around me calm my heart, and the babe's wails are quieted. The soft sheets on the bed are a welcome respite from the rough hospital linens.  My legs gingerly explore the cooler spots on the surface, every movement reminding me of my frailty.


I remember the slow descents from my upstairs bedroom to the living room. Eventually I was able to do it without help.  Then I was able to do it while carrying Little Dude.  Every day I made that descent, unwilling to remain isolated in my bedroom.  I joined in the family life, parking myself in the corner of the longest couch, able to see and hear all.  And when I would fall asleep, the kids would tiptoe around me, or snug in while I nursed Little Dude, holding him in my arms while he slept, not wanting to put him down.

(my "corner spot"... notice the sweats? comfort is a must!)

I remember how everyone rallied. How the kids did laundry and dishes. How my DH would come home from work and start on dinner. He would clean the kitchen, sweeping and mopping, and then he would take a wailing babe for a walk outside while I attempted a shower. Everything centered on our family life.  There were little to no outside distractions... (well, except the occasional soccer game, of course)

Now Little Dude is walking.

What a difference 11 months makes.  I knew it would come.  But I honestly didn't think it would come this quickly.  He squirms out of my arms and I set him down.  On his sturdy little legs he toddles off, eager to see and do, just like everyone else. Put a soccer ball in front of him and he moves double-time.  It's quite a sight to see... the ball is as tall as his legs are long.  But he moves it, first one foot, then the other.

He fits right in.

Perfectly.

:)

Daybook: Second Week of School

I can't believe how quickly the time is flying by now. We are just starting our second week of school for all of the kids, even the homeschooled ones. Little Dude is walking, and I'm able to be away from him for a few hours at a time now, if need be. And the weather has finally turned. Finally. More on all of this throughout my daybook. 


Outside my window~

Sunshine. Blue skies. COOL temps. High of only 84 today... yes, only. We went from 100's to 80's in 2 days.  Lows at night in the 60's. Fall is here!!


I am listening to~

My two homeschoolers fighting. Oy. It's snack time, and apparently making the lemonade is sending them over the edge.


I am wearing~

Khaki shorts and long sleeve melon-colored v-neck shirt. Bare feet. Of course.

(on the ferry heading up the Georgia Strait)


I am so grateful for~

Cooler weather. After over 65 days straight of triple digits, the cooler breezes seem miraculous. Indeed, they are. I am SO grateful.


I am pondering~

The balance of homemaking.  Specifically, a home that is kid-friendly, but neat. Our house will never be Pottery-Barn perfect. Our furniture is mostly hand-me-downs... and when I have toddlers running through it hither and yon, I'm glad for that. I can let go of my worry about our things and focus on our company.  However, I also know that children love beauty and order. How to balance both. How to not obsess but be organized. It may seem like a no-brainer, but this is hard for me.


I am reading~

Just finished The Help for book club.  Highly. Recommend.  My goodness, what an amazing read. 
I'm now reading Innocent Blood for book club, and The Children's Homer for the Lit class I teach.


I am thinking~

About my school kids. All day I think about them, checking their schedules, seeing what class they are in, and I pray for them.  They are doing so well at school. I can hardly believe it. 

(excuse the early-morning, Papa-in-a-hurry shot)


I am creating~

New bedrooms. DH and I, side-by-side. Boo and Love's room is finished.  We painted the boys' room yesterday. DH is building lofts. It's slow, but we are making progress. What a crazy time. 


On my iPod~

Lots of painting music.  :)

(view from our bedroom at the beach house... sigh)



Towards a real education~

Our co-op is going really well. Little Dear's classes are more challenging this year, but not overwhelming. It's a good balance. We went on a nature walk this morning. It was glorious. I think we need to do that a bit more this Fall. 


Towards rhythm and beauty~

Less kids at home mean less mess. It's really true. But it also means less hands to help if I need it. Little Dude is so much happier now that he's more mobile. I can get some chores done! And also? I can write more. How I've missed it!

(Little Dude at the beach house)



I am hoping and praying~

For Suzanne, and Charlotte, and many other intentions. 


In the garden~

Need to re-plant. I can't wait until this weekend when I can go and buy fall blooms!!


Around the house~

The smell of paint and wood stain. How fun!

(missing our family in Canada... right Little Boo?)


From the kitchen~

I've been baking. :)  Apple pie and carrot cake, for starters. The promise of fall brings out the domestic side of me.



One of my favorite things~

Yummy kitchen smells. :)




A few plans for the week~

Our calendar is starting to fill up. Soccer practices, Irish step dance, Night out for mom, soccer tournament this weekend, a coffee get-together... it's nice to get back into socializing again!



A picture thought~

(from our trip to the Sunshine Coast, British Columbia, Canada)


:)

True Love

The eyes... they are huge.  They sparkle and glisten, overflowing with love....

... and trust.

This little man, how he trusts.  All babies do, I know.  The Papa stands on the sidelines, tossing him high as the nearby mothers gasp.  Little Dude laughs.  Big belly laughs.  The mamas smile and continue their chatting.

Big sisters perch him on the couch, talking and talking to him.  He smiles, adoring. Listening to everything they say, laughing at their inflections.  I pass by and pause.  Then implore... hold him tight.
Please, do not let him fall.
He is too close to the edge... put your hand out....

And they do. 

Papa holds him at dinner.  And those eyes, they search.  Each member of the family, seeking... seeking...

And then, those beautiful eyes find mine, and the lopsided grin grows wide.  Wider than possible for a little man so small.

His eyes sparkle and mine glisten. 

True love.

:)

Daybook: Easter Week

Outside my window~
A gray, muggy day.  Our spring storms are in full swing.  Our weather forecast for the next week is the same.  Scattered storms, 30% chance of rain.  All that means is hot and muggy, with severe storms.  We were under a tornado watch for most of the evening yesterday.  Nothing says Happy Easter quite like making sure the "tornado closet" is available for quick entry.  :P


I am listening to~
The kids play the wii.  We're taking the day off.  A recoup day after the day of festivities yesterday.  We're recuperating our minds, bodies, and bellies.  It was a great day, and I need to rest.  Maybe a nap later?

I am wearing~
Tan cargo pants, heather blue tank top and white flip flops.  My hair in a low pony tail.  Thank goodness for pony tails.  It's been my styling savior for 6 months now.  I hope to get my hair cut next week.  At least it will be styled for a few days then.  No promises after that.  :P

I am so grateful for~
Yummy recipes online. A clean house. Helping hands. Whiffle ball in the backyard. Abundance and plenty.

I'm pondering~
The enigma that is my newborns. My babies never drift peacefully off to sleep.  Is this normal?  They nurse and squirm and kick and wail... then suddenly, poof, they are asleep.  I am sitting there, exhausted and dripping as I gently lay them in their crib and tip toe away.  Or I collapse with them in bed, depending on the hour.  Do they make babies who get tired and actually go to sleep on their own?  I am somewhat serious here.

I am reading~
Library trip today! Thank goodness our local library doesn't charge late fees. We'd have to take out a loan to pay 'em.  I need to get The Host for book club....

I am thinking~
About college graduation parties. Lil Sis graduates in almost 3 weeks. What an amazing time it's been, journeying with her.  She will live with us for one last summer and then move out for good.  I'm excited for summer, and for the time we'll have with her. I'm excited for all she is allowing God to do in her life right now.  She is praying and trusting like never before. Given what she's been through (and it's been so rough for her) I'm inspired by her Faith and Hope.  She knows like never before that God is faithful.  And she is stepping out, with arms wide open, to receive what He will give.  And I know it will be abundant.  She is an amazing person, and  there is so much good in store for her.

I am creating~
Menu plans for graduation weekend.  We'll have at least two families celebrating with us.  Plus whomever else gets invited at the last minute.  :D  I want it all to be fun and yummy and not stressful. Yesterday was fun, yummy and not stressful... so can I triplicate that for 3 days in a row?  We'll see.

Towards a real education~
Well, it's official.  The boys will be at private school next year.  It's a wonderful, Catholic, (non-diocesan) private school.  It's a family-oriented place where certain tv shows, movies and music artists are banned.  It's a place filled with faithful Catholics and classical learning.  Where sports and family intermingle.  I am so excited for the boys.  And I am so certain that this is what God wants for them right now. And yes, I am extremely nervous, but firmly committed.  We'll do what it takes to make it work.  Praise God for this option in our lives!

To live the liturgy~
Little Dude is really good at hanging out in the baby bjorn,(sleeping and awake) so I think it's time to reinstate friday mass.  It would be a long stretch, since we have to be on campus (the local Catholic college has noon mass) later that afternoon for the girls' Irish step-dancing class, but it would be a wonderful way to spend a friday afternoon.

I am hoping and praying~
For many intentions, all virtual, but so very real.  I am also praying for family members, for health and peace.

In the garden~
The tomatoes are in, and coming along nicely!  We've had a ton of rain the past few days, which gives us great hope for an abundant harvest.  My pansies out front have to go... a trip to the farmer's market for more blooms has to happen soon. Shucks darn, eh?  :)


Around the house~
Order.  I need to create seamless order.  I'm tired of the chaos, the mess, and the clutter.  My babymoon has been a long one, and it's time to buckle down.  The kids helped a ton this past weekend, and I'm inspired to continue the massive clean up.  I think they are inspired too.

From the kitchen~
Leftovers!  Slow-cooked pork shoulder roast, pasta salad, boston cream pie.  It was an awesome feast, with lots leftover.  Yum.

One of my favorite things~
Tulips that don't follow the rules.

:)

Beth These Days

Beth (Elizabeth) is our Little Boo. And what a Little Boo she is.

She is the source of most of the hilarity around here, both good and bad.  She will mercilessly tease all of her siblings... yes, even the 13 year old, and then turn around and do something totally precious like, make Little Love some lunch, or change the baby's diaper.  She is so fickle that way.

Not to mention the gems that issue forth from her mouth.  When she learned of my Grandma's passing, she turned to mom and asked; "Is she the lady who lost her marbles?"
My Grandmother had alzheimers.
Nothing like a little humor to lighten the moment. 

:P

At the tender age of 8, Beth really is an old soul.  She has decided, all on her own, to keep her room neat.  So, when visiting my parents, she took it upon herself to clean the kids' room every morning.  She picked up the clothes and toys and made all the beds.  My mother was thrilled that at least one grandchild had inherited her gene of cleanliness and order!

Beth also has undertaken the task of acquiring a love of reading.  She sees her siblings with a book going every day.  She is determined to do the same.  And so there is a stack by her bedside, from which she reads incessantly, and keeps me apprised of her accomplishments. 

My Bethie Boo is becoming quite the soccer player.  She has been asked to play select in the spring. My little spitfire, the captain of her team, is now in the big leagues.  Well, sort of.  When bringing her to her first practice, she asked me if this was a "Spanish" team.  Indeed, she is the only caucasian on the team!  This only bothers her, she told me, when the girls speak Spanish to each other.  So, she says, she just needs to learn Spanish.  Simple, huh?

This girl has taught me so much about the overwhelming ferocity of love and determination.  She works with such concentration and will.  Her spirit is alive and infectious.  I am so happy to report that despite my lack of parenting skills, she thrives.  And how she thrives!

What a privilege it is to be her mom.

And how I look forward to witnessing all God has in store for this little girl.

:)

Mae These Days

Mae is our Little Love.  Named after my grandmother*, Mae reminds me so much of her. She is funny and charming.  A bit of a spitfire, but with a heart of gold.  She is my first girl to collapse into tears, just really sob, when someone teases her. I am learning to guard her heart fiercely... while trying to teach her not to take herself so seriously.(or... sewiouswy... as she would say)

:P

At the age of 6, Mae-love (see where she gets her blog name?) is oscillating between wanting to be my baby girl and wanting to do all that the older girls are allowed to do.  She gets frustrated by the razor's edge she must continually walk.  And I sometimes wonder if I am not protecting her just a little too much. Maybe she should be able to do more and explore the world around her a little more freely.  But the thought of unseen dangers keeps her close to home.

Maisy Daisy (another nickname... cute, huh?) is such a smarty. And I'll be the first to admit that any one of my children is not very bright.  But this girl picks things up quickly, and remembers them.  She blurts out letter sounds and math facts and placement of States before her big sister can even start to open her mouth. But this awareness has it's downfalls.  Super sensitive, she will bristle and howl when there is even of hint of teasing or ridicule in a sibling's tone.  She picks up on the slightest bit of sarcasm and reacts strongly.  It gets a little trying for this Mama, dealing with all of her battle wounds.

Mae has stepped into the role of big sister with pride.  She hauls Brynach around like a pro, and has become quite territorial.  Between her and Little Boo, I feel like I need to make a sign up sheet and assign hours of the day for their baby care turns.

:P

My Maisy will always have that special place in my heart.  The place that is reserved for "The Baby Girl of the Family."  I never knew such a spot would exist, until this littlest girl came along.  But there is something super special about that last girl.  I can't quite put my finger on it, but every Mama knows.

She's just my Mae.  The sunshine of our family.

:)



*My grandmother passed just last week, on Dec. 27th. May she rest in eternal peace and love.

Brynach These Days

I've never published my kids real names.  Inadvertently, they may have popped up in the comments through family or close friends.  But I've always been vigilant about keeping them anonymous.  Always. But just this once, I'm going to break protocol and talk about each child by name.  Mostly because I want to remember this crazy time.  And also because we have many long distance family members who want to know, and long to see, our growing peanuts.

Brynach is our Little Dude.  Born just 7 short weeks ago.  He is, by far, the noisiest of the bunch... and the most needy.  Especially today.  The mama of the house got a whopping 3 hours of sleep last night thanks to his royal fussiness.  And today has not been promising in the nap department.  Thank goodness DH took the day off.  Too bad he thinks he did it for car repairing projects.

:P

Bryn is our precious gift.  Yes, even after a measly 3 hours of sleep I can still say that and actually mean it.  We didn't think our family would ever reach 6 children, and the fact that it did is such a blessing.  He has already stolen all of our hearts, and now repays our drooling attentiveness with drools of his own.  Cooing and occasionally even smiling, he is constantly the center of attention.

So much a part of the family, he has already been incorporated into the games of Little Love and Little Boo.  The other day as I folded laundry, the girls decided Bryn and I were aliens and they needed to "kidnap" the alien baby.  I was to walk over to his "happy chair" (as they call it) and "discover" he was missing.  As I did so, they ran away from behind the couch, giggling. I walked back to my laundry... only to discover Bryn tucked into one of the laundry baskets, perfectly cozy and content.  An unwitting playmate in their game.

Of course, he is simply beautiful.  I love his tender face, his half-drunk milk-drooly smile as he nurses.  His deep blue eyes seem so serious as he takes in his surroundings and processes what it all must mean.

And I want him to understand... it means you are loved, littlest one. 

So much loved.

It fills us all to the bursting.

:)

A Blessedly Ordinary Birth Story

Looking out of my two eyes, I saw my feet, for, perhaps, the first time in awhile.  I felt the weight that they had to bear, the unyielding gravitational pull.  And I felt my knees weaken at this pressure.  For the first time in my life, my earthly body seemed nothing less than a burden.  A burden to be borne and endured, not adorned and arrayed.  And I could truly whisper to myself that the promise of the Kingdom to come is surely a blessing and a welcome comfort.

~Nutmeg, 2004

I started blogging when Little Love was 8 months old.  The above was written by me in my (handwritten!) journal after a particularly difficult c-section recovery with her.  I had gained a lot of weight that pregnancy, and the after-effects of the pain medication, coupled with an extremely colicky baby was taking it's toll.  Throw in my stair-stepped children (ages 2,4,5 and 7) and I was seriously pushing the limit of my sanity.  Other moms are more resilient, I'm sure.  But #5 drove me to my knees.  Don't get me wrong, I was so thrilled to have my Little Love.  A traumatic miscarriage one month before conceiving her had cured me of any selfish doubts.  But it was by far the most difficult recovery I've ever had.


Naturally, I've been gun shy ever since.  After Little Dude's existence was made known to us, I was thrilled, but cautious.  Ok, who am I kidding... I was scared sh*tless.   I did not want to go through the fear and anxiety I experienced during the surgery... did not want the horrific recovery... did not want the colicky baby with acid reflux.  I wasn't sure that all of my longing for another little one would turn out to be the best thing for us.

*smile*

The morning of Little Dude's scheduled birth, I explained to DH my need for some Mama time.  I needed to shower, to do my hair, to accomplish some detailed grooming... because I knew it would be at least a week before I would be strong enough to give any attention to detail in regards to personal hygiene.  Sorry, (tmi?) but surgery recovery is no picnic.  And I knew it.

Surprisingly, I was calm.  Begging for prayers from all corners of the internet and real world friends, I was amazed at the effects. I had a game plan, and was following it to the letter.  Baby steps, I decided.  Take one thing at a time.  First step, pack.  Next step, get to the hospital.  And so on from there. At each turn, I would take a deep breath and submit.  Hospital gown?  check.  I.V. line?  check.  Scary consult with the Anesthetist? You betcha. Throughout all of this, my mind focused on something I had read that morning.  A poor woman had revealed on the Faith and Family blog that her husband was caught in the throes of a porn addiction.  My heart ached for her, and I was moved to promise her that I would offer up my sufferings that day for her. Oh, to think that maybe my meager sufferings could aid in his release from that bondage!  My resolve was hardened.

The peace was unbelievable.

There were moments of pain and panic, I will not lie.  I have a slight scoliosis in the base of my spine, and the positioning of the epidural was tricky... and painful.  Having the anesthesiologist ask you which nerves were spazzing out as he pushed the needle one way or the other?  Yeah.  Not pleasant.  Lying down on your side to let the medicine have easier access to that one side that wasn't quite numbing properly? Wondering if they'd have to redo it?  And what about the surgery?  Eeeek.  Yes, there were moments of panic.  DH was not allowed in to the O.R. at that point either.  I had forgotten about that.  He would not be allowed in until I was numbed and the sheet was positioned.  And that added to my anxiety.  To be suffering and in pain and confusion without my stronghold beside me.  That was probably the hardest part. But I remembered my resolve.  I was determined to hang on to my peace.  And the prayers carried me through.

And as the medicine took effect, DH was ushered in.  He took my hand and smiled.

My arms were outstretched and the words of Our Lord took root in me. This is my body... given up for you.  I was fully living this truth at the time that the first incision was recorded.

During the surgery, with all of it's strange sounds and smells, I had my eyes closed.  My doctor asked how I was doing, and the nurse anesthetist said I was smiling.  Strange, huh.  I was thinking about Little Dude, and how we would meet him soon.  And I couldn't wait.

The moment I heard Little Dude... the tears sprang up, unexpectedly.  And as I laughed them away, I remembered that I always cry when I first hear those wails.  They wrapped him up and laid him on my outstretched arm, close enough so I could kiss his face.  My arms still immobile, DH held him in place for me. As my doctors finished their work, I lost all sense of time just gazing at his face.  And during recovery, the protocol at the hospital is for complete skin on skin time.  Having him nurse and snuggling him close made the time go by quickly.  I can barely remember my doctor checking in on me before he headed home.  Something about how it all went well.... and then he was gone.


My doctor.   A few words about him.  He is Catholic, Pro-life and NFP-only.  Knowing that the man who was performing the surgery was most likely in the state of grace gave me a confidence that I hadn't thought of before.  I could almost picture the guardian angels guiding his hands.  He is meticulous.  So much so that he refuses to deliver his own children... afraid that his emotions would cause him to lose focus.  He plays the role of dad then... but for us, he was all business.  And I just love him for that.

After I was home a few days, and reflecting on how God's grace and many prayers carried me through each hurdle of recovery.... (first time up, first shower, removal of bandages, then removal of staples, etc) It dawned on me that it's really all about trust.  Trust in God.  Trust in your caregivers.  Being rolled from the operating table to the recovery bed and then onto my hospital bed.... ever had that done?  They tip you on your side, then lift you by the sheets and plop you on the other bed.  I was completely numb, staring at the floor, as they tipped me one way, and then another.  Totally helpless.  But I had to trust.  If I freaked out just a little, tried to steady myself with my arms... then the IV bag would have gone flying, and in their surprise, the nurses may have lost their grip on me.  And those nurses?  They are good. Protecting my dignity, soothing my fears, all while letting you know that this is routine.  It's done all the time.  And while you are uniquely you... you are also just part of their normal day.  And there is something really comforting in knowing that.

How much more God loves us.  He paralyzes us with his love.  Tips us one way, then another.  Only asking us to trust, not to freak out.

Because his grip on us is secure.

And there is something even more comforting about that.

The Craziness of our Days

I want to remember this time... this blessed time when my entire life is ruled by a little man who is not yet two feet tall.  Who cannot even hold his own head up, and spits up constantly.  Who cuddles and snugs and makes the funniest faces when trying to wake up... and who is the center of our universe these days.


We are in survival mode here in the Nut House.  Those of you with little ones right now know (and are living out!) exactly what I mean.  Other Mamas of littles now grown will nod in remembrance.  It is a crazy time.  But a blessed time of crystal clear priorities...

~The baby is screaming, he must be picked up/changed/fed/held/rocked.

The dishes can wait.

~The children need some family time.  Some games/movies/mom-and-dad/special time....

The laundry can wait to be folded.  Need something? Look in the clean basket.

~Mama needs a shower today.  No, really, it has become a priority.  ;)

The vacuuming will be done later.  Please hold Little Dude, and pass him to another older sibling if he fusses.

~Nap time! Which equals tv time!

Yes, I know the children have been watching all morning.  One more hour this afternoon won't rot their brains too much.  I just need them in one place so I can rest and not worry.



And so it goes.  Our housecleaning is haphazard at best.  DH is trying not to do absolutely everything.  He is such a do-er though.  And the kids are being rallied to constantly step up more and more to help him out.  Sat night their reward was a trip to the movies, how DH managed to stay awake after running errands all day is beyond me.

I stayed home and snuggled with Little Dude.  Because that is all I can manage to do these days.

That is my A- #1 Top Priority.

And I'm going to treasure it for as long as I can....

:)

While I Wrestle With The Written Word...

... in composing Little Dude's birth story...

I thought we were overdue for a wee bit of updating.

Here is our little man, as of yesterday....

He absolutely consumes me.  Constantly in my arms, I hardly ever put him down.  Most of this is by choice, of course, but I also anticipate some fussy days ahead.  (actually got a taste of that today.... eeek)

I am walking a tightrope these days...  finding that while I am eager (and sometimes downright impatient) to be fully 100% recovered, I also do not want to wish this first month away.  Because it will pass.. and all too quickly. I love this newborn stage... the snuggles, the smells, the utter dependency... so sweet.


The siblings are, by turns, helpful, joyful and somewhat oblivious in this new chapter of our family life.  The girls cannot stand to hear him cry and go rushing to his side at the slightest peep.  The boys can't stand it either, and they go running outside.  LOL.

Little Boo is most adamant about scooping him up and out of the arms of the failing comforter, especially in the evenings when DH is trying to keep the little man awake for a few hours.  She marches up to her dad, hands on her hips, demanding that he hand over the little guy.  Then she waltzes away with him, singing and snugging her baby brother.

It definitely is nice to have the extra set of arms.  It guarantees that I can get dressed most mornings.
;P

Thanks to our homeschool co-op, the kids are still able to keep up with their schooling, while learning important life lessons here at home.  Pitching in and helping out, or pushing limits and bending rules?  It's been an interesting transition.  But necessary, as we iron out our new roles and make room for this most welcomed little one.

We have amazing friends.  AMAZING.  Our meals are planned out, every weekday, from now until Dec 22nd.  Yes, you read that right.  Little Dude's godmama has been working the phone lines, keeping us well-fed.  We are so truly blessed.

And that's it for now.  The little man awaketh, and I must run.

Thanks for your many e-mails and well-wishes.

Life is full here, and so very very good.

:)

Overflowing

My inbox, that is. (along with my Facebook wall)

And, consequently, my heart.

:)

Thank you so much, my very dear friends, for all of the notes of encouragement and promises of prayer for tomorrow. With each and every note and e-mail, my spirits are lifted and my wary heart is strengthened. You have no idea how much it means to me to read this constant outpouring of love.

I am so excited to hold this little one... to behold his face and have his fingers curl around mine.  To know him and name him.  At long last.

Miraculously, I have been able to accomplish every task set before me this past week. Including confession today with a dear old priest who is a champion of the local pro-life movement and simply overjoyed at the impending arrival of our little guy.  He sent us on our way this morning, laden with graces and prayers and handmade rosaries and lots of extra blessings. 

It's been a beautiful week.

And tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day.

:)