Christmas 2011

Dear Family and Friends,
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! May the season bring you joy and peace as it has us!
We relocated 15 minutes south of Longmont to Erie this February. It was probably the best move we’ve ever made. We live in a community that is so tight, that just thirty minutes ago my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I received a plate of cookies from the three adorable munchkins next door. We have friends all around us who have kids in the same school and it’s really just one big party. We are so thankful God brought us here. The sense of community leaves you feeling as if you are in a constant embrace of friendship.
Three days after moving into the new house, we found out that God wanted to stretch us a little. No surprise, He does that with great regularity. We just hope we are growing in the way He wants us to. We thought three kids were all we could handle but He thought four was a better number. The kids were in shock when we broke the news to them up in Breckenridge on a ski trip. I video taped their responses. Watching Eden reject it out of hand then ask if we were serious while Kaitlyn instantly embraced the news and Nick hopped around like a little pogo stick was priceless.
I racketed my way through the year grappling with how I would possibly manage four kids, two dogs and a rental house across the country. There wasn’t an epiphany. I am just taking it one day at a time. Hm, that makes it sound mundane which my days are anything but. I’d give you some highlights but I have to remind myself that you were expecting a joyful letter about the blessings of 2011.
We took a little camping trip up in Estes Park with my sister Ginny and her family this summer. If I hadn’t been six months pregnant wearing flip flops, the epic six mile hike to a high mountain lake to see blooming lily pads probably would have been a little more thrilling. As it was, I think the grueling trek was a feather in every kids hats and that is a treasure in itself.
This fall we took our annual trip to the mountains to see the fall colors. Somehow we waited one week too long and wound up driving up to Frisco in a snowstorm. It was surreal to see snow with patches of golden aspens peeking through. Jody’s dad and Marcy met us up there and we had a nice little mountain jaunt. The kids loved the trip but I kept having contractions which was giving Jody the jitters.
Two weeks later our lives changed forever. Hazel Ann was born. Each of our children have brought a profound change in our world, filled our hearts to bursting and made us want to laugh and cry all at the same time. Hazel is no different and if anything the senses are heightened. The unexpectedness of her arrival in our family makes everything about her presence more amazing and incredible. I sit and hold her for hours every day, marveling at everything about her. I haven’t been caught up on laundry since she was born but I wasn’t very often before anyway. Jody and I are swept away in love with our baby and so is everyone else in the family. It’s like we got a puppy. We love her, dote on her, carry her around and can barely stand to let her sit in her swing or bouncy seat. My favorite thing is to lay out the sheepskin by the fireplace and lay her on it so she can watch the fire. She is the most peaceful child in the world. All is as it should be.
Thanks to so many of you who have given Hazel such lovely presents. We are so blessed and thankful to know each of you. Thank you for the beautiful Christmas cards. I love the photo cards. I can’t believe how the kids grow and change each year. Please call or write anytime!
Love,
Jody, Elizabeth, Eden, Kaitlyn, Nicholas and Hazel

Thanks Anna

Little Hazy is already six weeks old. She's alert, smiley, demanding, cuddly and completely adorable in all of her little clothes she's been blessed with by family and friends. Tonight she's in a dark pink sleeper with pale pink hearts and a froggy. My friend Anna sent it to her today. Anna is one of my most treasured long term, low maintenance, generous, genuine and completely unique friends. I think back to when she became my friend when I was working two jobs trying to make it on my own. We would drive to downtown Denver, go to a little hole in the wall coffee shop and pick up a latte for me and a steamed almond milk for her then we'd go sit on the 16th Street Mall and watch people. Strange people, funny people, weird people... one time a naked person wrapped in a blanket running around confused... We were as different as night and day but we always had common ground. We made memories, shared some pretty special experiences and then when our lives changed we saw each other less but my friendship with her has always been a link to a different lifetime that practically nobody else in my life is linked to. I do pity her being my friend for so long. Somehow she's managed to supply each of my kids with darling gifts and I just keep having them. Most people knew me during one birth or another but Anna has always claimed me and always kept our tenuous friendship alive and always gifted adorable things to the family that just won't stop growing. So, thanks Anna. It seems like I'm only ever saying thanks to you but thanks. You're a peach.

A sunset and a tree

Two nights ago I was driving through the neighborhood right as the sun sank behind the Rockies. In a rare display the entire sky radiated colors in an enveloping glow. I was overcome and told the kids to look at the sky. I twisted in my seat and could see little whisps of pink glowing all the way to the eastern horizon. There were billowing dark clouds high in the sky which I suppose reflected the sun into a breathtaking display. As soon as the car stopped Eden was out and running for the house to take a picture with my high dollar camera. I find it shameful that she has had full camera privileges since Nick was born and I still treat Kait like a two year old. She dashed to the back yard and snapped several pics. I was carrying baby, groceries etc... in and asked her if she got it. Her face was neutral. I did but they aren't great. I didn't think any more of it until this morning. I was rousing my poor tussled blondies in my usual no nonsense fashion; offering the unwanted lecture of falling asleep sooner so it's easier to get up. A completely hypocritical utterance but habitual all the same. Eden sat up in her bed and in a gravely voice she said "Mom, are you going to take a picture of the tree by my window today?" I leaned over and glanced out the window and the tree took my breath away. I wish I were a real photographer but alas, you will have to use your imagination to visualize something far more sensational than what I captured. I will say that what I saw both times left me aghast that anyone on this planet could doubt the sure evidence of a master design. It also gave me great appreciation for Eden's eye and her instant appetite for raw beauty.

I had a hard time picking which of her pictures of the sunset to use, so I chose the first and last. It shows the lapse of time and I have no idea why she thought they were less than great. If you click on them you can see them bigger.

This is the exact view from her window.

It wasn't good enough so I tromped out in the snow in my boots, pj's and bathrobe to take a couple close ups.

This is too amazing to attribute to chance. This is the product of a divine being making beauty for his enjoyment.

Kind of like... this...

Happy December world, Hazel beckons to me.

Hazel Ann

Jody and I have another child. A breathtakingly beautiful little girl named Hazel Ann. Somehow we never had the sense to ask God for her, so he gave her to us of his own volition to show us how wonderful His ways are and to bless us because He loves us so much more than we will ever truly comprehend. She is as calm and quiet as a morning after snow has fallen. She gazes into my eyes and her lips play with a smile then form a perfect O. Her head and cheeks are as soft as a peach and her toes are long and amusingly prehensile. Her fingers are delicate and refined; she holds them like a little lady about to play a pinafore. The overwhelming gush of raw love and emotion when she was born still sneaks up on me several times per day. Her squeaks and coos, her gulping as she tries to drink every drop of milk and her little hands grasping my finger, my necklace, my shirt. The desperate sucking on her hand as she anxiously waits to eat again and again and again. These are all magic. A magic I really never thought I would experience again in my life as a mother. I find it incomprehensible that I was content without her and amazing that God has given her to us.
Her birth was the most gentle and easy of my four children. I woke up a little after 4 AM on Sunday, October 23rd. I got up to go to the bathroom and felt little trickles of water running down my legs. I couldn't really bring myself to believe my water had broken but sure enough it had. I stared contemplatively at the evidence and couldn't quite believe it. After a few seconds I said "Jody..."
He responded as though he'd been awake for hours. "Yes."
I said "I guess my water broke."
He sat up and said "should I call the midwife?"
It set the tone for the whole morning.
I called Gin and texted Jen B. to tell them how sorry I was that they were going to miss the birth. They were both sad but gracious about it. I know Gin blamed me for starting the labor by having Eden's birthday party and going to the pumpkin patch but it was actually the easiest birthday party ever. I didn't even have to set out plates and napkins or make a cake or basically anything. The pumpkin patch excursion probably took 20 minutes and required very little from me, other than supplying the coupon code on my phone for my living social discount. I take comfort in the fact that the midwives believed very strongly that there had been a drop in barometric pressure causing me to go into labor. Either way, I really would have held on until the girls got here if I could though the end of pregnancy really is a miserable thing. I had not the slightest premonition that Hazel would show up 9 days early, but man is it a relief to be done being pregnant.
Jenny T. came over right away with her camera and we hung out and laughed about Jenn D. being completely comatose when I called her. I was having light contractions, Jody and I had the bed ready, and I was kind of twiddling my thumbs and wondering if I should eat something or if it would be puked back up in no time. Finally I decided to have some cheerios. At the time I thought it was goofy of her to take the picture but as I looked at the photo's it seemed like the natural beginning of the story.

A little while later the midwives came. Jeni checked me and I was 5 centimeter! I wandered around for awhile doing little things and I couldn't find the right place or position, so I'd grab Jody and hang on him since every other contraction was starting to feel uncomfortable. He makes me feel warm and fuzzy. ;-)

Jody went to wake up the girls and get things together for the birth and I just couldn't seem to find the best place to sit so I sat on a barstool in the middle of the living room. I think someone had drug it in there to set my drink on while I sat on the ball but it became my platform for the first half of my labor. While my friends lounged on the couch making funny conversation, I perched up on the barstool laughing and moaning.

Jody came down from upstairs and said the girls told him he was joking when he went to wake them up for the birth. I found this very entertaining. It didn't take five minutes for them to come down to check for sure.

My midwife Jeni had told me I could get into the bathtub whenever I wanted to but I wanted to wait until I was not coping easily with labor and wanting relief. Finally awhile later I went in the bathroom and got into the tub. I lounged in the water worrying to Jody that my labor wasn't getting hard and wondering if it was just going to take a really long time. Jeni offered to check me and I was at 7 centimeters. I remember locking eyes with Jody and saying 7 down 3 to go!" He smiled. The only thing hanging me up was how many birth stories had I read and how many births had I attended where a person progressed great and then stalled anywhere between 7 and 10? I was happy but not over confident. I continued to feel a niggle of fear that this could take all day. The girls came in the bathroom and Eden anxiously asked me how much longer it would take. I laughed about how present and excited she was. I told her I had no idea. I focused exclusively on a picture in my mind of my body opening wide up for the baby. With each contraction I would go limp and find that picture. I could feel my insides creaking as the baby came down. This is what they call "laboring the baby down." It was fun to doula myself through this process so consciously.
I had to go to the bathroom so I labored in there for awhile leaning into Jody, my ever present faithful one. He did whatever I asked, pushed on my knees, braced his arm so I could hold onto him. I remember yelling for God to help me and hoping to high heaven this wasn't going to last for very many more hours. I announced that I was getting shaky so they brought me some nasty sweet stuff to balance my blood sugar and forced me to drink it. Jeni said I was getting pushy to which I whiningly replied that I WISHED I felt pushy. She wanted me off of the toilet especially since the baby was in a +2 station as she didn't want me to plop a baby in there. I still maintain there was no danger of that happening but all of those dramatic people like to say "it's a good thing we got her out of there when we did" so I just let them say it. I didn't want to get back into the bathtub so Jenny T. ran out to Jeni's car and got the birthing stool and they set it by the tub. I sat down on it and hated it instantly but I felt the baby about to come out and announced that I would not be moving. It seemed like I waited forever for the next contraction and then I pushed, ever so slowly telling myself not to tear and holding my mouth ajar. Every time I felt it start to burn I'd slow down a bit and then let it rest for a second. It's the first time I've ever tried to control the pushing so that I would not tear. Very gently, the baby's head came out and the midwife said "the cord is loosely around the neck but it flipped over easily". By this time all of the kids were gathered around and though I didn't know it, Kearney was laying behind everyone and attending her first birth as well.

When they handed me the baby, I felt a rush of love such as I cannot describe. I don't remember having it with the other kids to such a magnitude. I was completely overcome by it. She was completely covered in vernix and incredibly beautiful and perfect in every way. I'm told it's the hormone oxytocin, but that seems to make it sound so much more clinical than it felt!

Kaitlyn was at my left elbow and everyone wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl. She got nervous and said it was a boy. I said, "lets check and see." We checked and I instantly wished I could take the words back and let them be hers so badly but I instinctively corrected her and said "it's a girl!" Nick seemed a little terrified of the baby, I think because she was covered in vernix and had blue skin but I reassured him and a few minutes later he was all over her, trying to give her a matchbox car.

Eden wanted to be a part of everything. She cut the umbilical cord. The midwife warned her that she might have to cut twice but Eden didn't wait for her to finish the explanation, she expertly snipped the cord and was complimented by Jeni who told her she did a better job than most adults.

Then she helped weigh, measure and dress her. Eden's very competent in a foreign setting. I wonder what she'll be when she's grown.

All in all, my labor lasted from waking up a few minutes past 4AM to 7:52 AM when Hazel was born. She weighed exactly 7 pounds even though she was 9 days early, was 20 1/2 inches long and her head was 14 inches. The average baby head is 13 inches so that makes my completely skid mark free delivery quite notable. ;-)

I could post a thousand pictures and make this story so long because I love to tell a birth story but I guess I'll stop here. Hazel's birth was amazing. The pain was never worse than a stomach flu and I honestly think if I'd known that it would go so easily and end so soon I probably wouldn't have bothered complaining for the 20 minutes when it was a bit of work and wasn't feeling so great.

Eden tops the single digits!

She's 9 years old now, so next year we break into the double digits! She's so fun and interesting. She loves scientific things, girly things, techno things and gymnastics. Give her a science experiment, a new purse or hairdryer, a chance to do handsprings or an iPad to play on and she's equally enthralled. I love this about her. I can think of a million things she'd love to do and the list never seems to end.
Yesterday was her birthday. I relived every detail of her birth with her, which she absorbed with great interest. In my personal experience, children love to hear every detail about the day they were born. It seems to resonant deeply with them that their parents must love them very much to want to reminisce about that special day.
The school costume party fell on her birthday so I asked her if she wanted to go and she didn't. I asked if she wanted pot pie and german chocolate cake, and she did. This is typical of Eden. One birthday we would have gotten her anything for her birthday and she asked me to make spaghetti. So, somehow the day spun out of control between buying groceries, taking treats to Eden's class for her birthday and then doing gymnastics, so I did not get the pot pie done. I asked if frozen one's would work and of course she was fine with that. Eden's as easy to please as anything. I did make the entire german chocolate cake and frosting from scratch start to finish with a couple of bumps along the way... one particular bump being the giant one in my belly.
She had her party today and it was so sweet to see little faces that have been a part of her birthdays year after year. Scout, Lauren and Charlotte have all stayed friends with Eden since Kindergarten and it is cool to see that constant in her life. I hope we've settled.
We got home from the party and Eden landed on the couch with a big sigh. She smiled at me and said "that was such a great party Mom." She got up and hugged me and said "thank you" with great feeling. That's what I live for, those little moments. I love each of my children very deeply and they all have hearts of gold. I often feel like I'm so poor at modeling behavior that I find myself admiring in them, but they get it from Jody or somewhere, thank God!

Mundane musings of an Erie country mouse.

I hadn't thought of how to get around it but Adagio Tea charges me a $2 "Rural Delivery Charge" now that we live in Erie. Today it occurred to me to have it shipped to Jody's office in Boulder to avoid this ridiculous fee and he found it as amusing as I did. His observation was that now we can tell people we live in the country! I grew up "rural", and his grandparents farmed "rural" so we are familiar with the term. It should involve dirt roads, opening and closing gates and packs of noisy dogs, or at the very least a half mile between neighbors on long lonely roads, not a stop on a daily route through a neighborhood on a culdesac 20 miles from Denver. I suppose in Colorado, I might consider a "rural" delivery fee fair if UPS had to traverse Berthoud Pass to deliver my tea... Never the less, I have avoided the charge, and that is what being a stay at home mom is all about. I have my $2, and my tea is soon to be shipped.
In the past week and a half we have had grandparents come to visit, a trip to the mountains, a belly henna tattoo party, an all day outing to the zoo and the complete collapse of the pregnant lady. Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a mac truck. I sank into my bathtub mid-morning, toddled to my bed and then melted into Jody's side of the mattress imagining him somehow cuddling my deformed body while Kait and Nick painted in the dining room... dangerous I know. Somehow, this week I will pull it together, make my granola and breakfast burritos, get Kait healthy, have a birthday party for Eden, figure out my iTunes, walk 3 miles every day and visualize birth. Next week, I'll again walk three miles every day, make freezer meals with Gin, stock my house with enough food for the end of the world and then try to relax this baby out so we can finally find out if it is a boy or a girl.

Happy 20th Birthday Michelle!

We think of you all of the time and pray for you every night. We love you and hope wonderful things for your future.

Kait's back in violin!

Here is a picture of her first lesson with Sandra Wong.

We pulled up at Sandra's house for the first lesson. I knew she had three large dogs but hadn't really put much thought into how that affects a very tiny little house. As we walked in, I got a strong aroma of dog mixed with some kind of incense or something. I grew up on a farm so smells aren't terribly important to me but I do have a very keen nose, especially when I'm pregnant. Kait and Sandra started comparing Kait's violins to see which one was a better fit and I glanced down at Nick next to me. His teeth were barred and his nose was scrunched. I said "Nick, what in the world is wrong?"
Without opening his teeth he clearly said "it STINKS in HERE!" while continuing to scrunch his nose and bare his teeth.
Kait and Sandra were in pause watching the whole thing. I shrugged apologetically and told her I thought Nick was unaccustomed to incense or whatever that smell was. She pointed to an air freshener plugged into the wall directly behind Nick and said I could try taking it out.
When I next glanced at Nick he had the first two fingers of his right hand jammed up his nostrils and with a nasally ring he said "let's go HOME NOW, it STINKS in HERE."
I wanted to curl up and die but Sandra seemed to expect a comment from me, so I said "four year olds just have no filter." To which she laughed.
A few minutes later Nick and Eden went into the next room and Eden came back and said "Mom, you should see Nick, he has his entire head buried in her box of stuffed animals." Sure enough, there he stood bent forward with arms dangling and his entire head stuck in a box of stuffed animals.
Meanwhile, Kait had a wonderful lesson and played twinkle for her new teacher and did everything asked of her with enthusiasm.

Humility

Oh autumn how I love thee! I will say that I can't really understand how we already have illness in our house before it's even chilly and crisp all day but so it will be.
Kait woke up Thursday telling me her throat hurt. I thought maybe it was dry. She ate breakfast and told me now her head and tummy hurt. I couldn't decide what to do so I sent her to school and sent a note to Ms. Baxter asking her to let me know if Kait looked peaked. She told me Kait was rolling along not the least bit sick. I picked her up after school and her eyes had tears standing in them and she was holding her throat. I felt like such a rockstar mom. I babied her all evening and the next morning I couldn't tell whether she was still sick or just wanting more attention. I told her she could stay home but when she saw me chopping apple slices for her math group she was reenergized and decided at the last possible second to go to school. I thought it was a short little bug. Then Jenn picked her up on Friday and took her to gymnastics in Lafayette. She said Kait was happy, high energy, and passed me on 287 as I headed to my midwife appointment. 15 minutes into gymnastics the gym staff called me to tell me that Kait was there crying and saying she had strep throat. I was then lectured on the highly contagious nature of strep throat which I had no idea how to respond to. How do I tell them that Kait thinks the name "strep throat" is another way of saying her throat hurts. Kait got on the phone crying that when she did a backbend her throat started hurting again and she wanted to go home. Jody had finally been able to make it to an appointment, but didn't get to stay for a minute of it. He hopped on his motorcycle, went home to Erie, got his truck and went to Lafayette to get Kait while Jenn sat with her at the gym. She got home, I gave her ibuprofen and shined a light down a very red and pussy throat. Aha, so maybe she had something there with the "strep throat" after all. Why do I always handle childhood illness this way? Poor darn kid. In the mean time, Kait took her continent test on Friday with strep throat and got a big fat 0. How did this happen? Oh, her pregnant, overwhelmed mother/Room Parent Coordinator/She Finds Retro/wife/cook/sock folder can stand for an ovation now... anyway here's how it went as I chopped chicken:
"Kait name the continent where giraffes are from."
"Banana (giggle giggle)"
"Kait, name the continent we live on." "America (giggle giggle)"
"Kait, are you going to study for this continent test?"
"I... don't know.... (giggle giggle)"
"You know what? Have fun on your continent test, if you don't want me to help you study, we'll see how it goes."
Um yeah, so if Mom has no patience, doesn't prepare you and sends you to school with strep in first grade, you might get a 0 on your continent test. I got a note from the teacher. She wondered about Kait's test. I told her Kait had elected not to study and I had decided that was fine so she could see the value of studying when she bombed it. The saving grace is, that Kait's teacher knows Kait's mother very well and tactfully suggested that Kait study over the weekend and retake the test so she can clearly see the value of studying. I took the lifeline.
If I make it to the end of this pregnancy and my three amazing kids are still wrapping their arms around my giant belly and telling me how much they love me and the baby... I'll assume we "survived" this very surreal experience and try to forget all of my "pregnant" moments this time around, there have been so many. I'm pretty sure everyone I know has had to pick me up and set me back on my feet at least once. So, Ms. Baxter took a turn too. That was nice... and humbling.

Some funny stuff to remember

A few days ago, Kait came home from school. She was so excited I thought she would burst. Here's how it went down. "Mom, I have something to tell you that you are probably going to hear about... well actually you probably won't hear about it but I'm going to tell you! Ms. Baxter told me that my handwriting was the best she had ever seen me do and told me to move my clip up. I did two more good things and got to move my clip two more times and I got a BAXTER BUCK!" Kait has handwriting like, well, it's like a four year olds. It's wobbly and large and wandering. I had to write a note to Ms. Baxter thanking her for the positive reinforcement. It seems to take very little to motivate Kait.
The same day, Eden came home with her spelling test results and was proud to show me that she had only missed one thing on her spelling test. I am so pleased with the way she is grasping math, reading voraciously and throwing herself into school with gusto this fall.
Nick was wearing shorts that swim on him yesterday and he would grab the back of them and pull them up. He did this all day and finally at the end of the day he started chuckling to himself and said "Hey Mom, this is kinda funny, when I pull my shorts up like this, I open my mouth like this." He reached behind and pulled his shorts up and stuck his chin out in front of him and dropped his mouth open. It was so funny to me that he realized he must look very funny doing this. I told Jody about it and Eden was there listening and she got a full on belly laugh out of the story. I love the way Eden gets such mirth out of Nick's antics.
The other morning the girls were having their cereal before school and I said "I can't wait for this baby to come out, so we can put that little outfit you got with the little green leaves on it with the little hat and take a first picture." They both agreed that it was going to be wonderful. I said "and it would be funny to just send out a pic to everyone that says, "Welcome Baby Allen" without identifying to people whether it's a boy or a girl. They lit up like Christmas at that idea. Talking about how long they could torture people by withholding that information.
Poor Nick has been the volunteer of the week at Flagstaff this week. He sat in the work room with me while I made about 700 die cuts for the first grade class just twiddling his thumbs and imagining things. After a long silence he would say something like "Mom, wouldn't it be cool if the road was gold, and the school was gold and all of the cars were gold." A little later... "Mom, some people are BIG! Some people are so big... I bet if a person ate and ate and ate, they would get REALLY BIG, like a GIANT!"
And finally, Nick's favorite word appears to be "allergic". Last night he was pretending with Kait and I heard him repeating to her in condescending tones that he is "allergic to carpet." A little bit ago I heard him talking to an imaginary friend saying "I'm allergic to yellow."

As the season changes...

So does my perspective. Suddenly I looked at my belly yesterday and said, I'm sick of this, I want to see this child. This little person who is jabbing my side with his/her heel while sticking his/her butt up like a tower, might have hair right now and I want to know if it's a tow head like the other three. Is it a boy or a girl? What will it's name be? Are the toes just piled together like a haystack like the others? When it's been this long, it's hard to believe that this one might look just like the others. Every two years I cranked out a blonde haired blue eyed jewel... will this one wonder if he/she is even related? I remember being convinced as a child that I was adopted and my parents just weren't telling me the truth for some reason. My fantastical theory was based on the fact that my older siblings were more solidly built and had brown hair and I was a complete waif with pale blonde hair. I was sure that I was not related to them and anxiously waited for the day that Mom would sit me down to tell me where I came from. It never resonated with me that they were a normal size because they ate and I wasn't because I refused to eat. I think my perspective was that parents just told you things like that to make you eat. One day it occurred to me that perhaps there was a picture of Mom pregnant with me, if I were truly their child. I went through every picture album they had and found naught. Sometimes I would ask my mom about all of her pregnancies, little things just to see if she would slip up. If she voluntarily brought up her pregnancy with me I would listen very attentively for any contradictions or evidence. I honestly believed she was spinning a tale to convince me I belonged to them. I think I wanted to be adopted, probably so that my speculations would all be justified. I even came right out and asked Mom and Dad why I had blonde hair and they both always just laughed and said they had blonde hair when they were little too. I didn't believe them because Louis and Ginny had never had blonde hair in my memory. Then finally, when I was seven years old, my longstanding secret suspicion was put to rest. My mom had a baby and THIS baby had strawberry blonde hair and he was a giant baby weighing in at 11 pounds 5 ounces. Absolutely ANYTHING could come out of my parents, I was now thoroghly convinced.
Call me silly, but now that the girls are in school, I don't feel like such a spectacle. Walking around hugely pregnant holding a little boy's hand feels so normal. People assume he's my only child and that I'm overdue. It's a lovely charade, but only until people speak to me but because I am an attention hog. I always correct them and say that this is my fourth child and that I have several weeks left until my due date. It paralyzes most peoples vocal chords but they usually choke out a congratulation somehow.

I read a fairy book today

Nick asked me to read one of Eden's fairy books the other day and it was a real struggle. When a four year old has the attention span to listen to a 75 page book of drivel, you really do have to go ahead and read the whole thing because of the crestfallen expression if you don't. I tried to quit. I finally realized towards the end that half of the battled was me trying to sink back into the couch with the baby compressing my lungs making me feel like I was gasping for air as I read. We went on to read "Oh the Places You'll Go" which was fine because I crouched in front of the couch and I like that book. After that I was done but Nick had arranged 5 more books on the couch in what I suppose he fancied as a compelling display. We read all day it seems. Then Kait and Eden come home. Thank God Eden is reading books to herself but I have to read with Kait for a minimum of 25 minutes and go over all of her sight words two or three times and try to keep track of the weekly homework and monthly homework assignments for both of them. It seems like it would be more fun if I were able to read books about birth or novels by Francine Rivers to the kids instead of the 6,348th reading of "Green Eggs and Ham". I shouldn't really say that stuff should I? Scratch all of that, nothing fulfills me more than reading to my children, reading and reading and reading.
We are in the middle of a perfect family holiday weekend. We have done home projects, let the kids have sleepovers, played clue, roasted marshmallows, scored free tickets to the Rockies game and still plan to squeeze in a bit more! Jody took an extra day off of work and I think he's going to take the girls to school early Tuesday so they can all go to breakfast then spend the morning with Nick and me, then hang with Nick all afternoon while I fulfill school obligations then hit the Valmont Bike Park as a family when the girls get home from school. I wish that were a typical Tuesday for us. It has been the most relaxing, happy weekend in the world. I must go eat my grilled brat.

Never was a perfect day

If you have a bad day, I think you should take a cute picture and tell a different story. I mean, do I really want to relive each little hell in fine detail when I'm old or just look at the pictures and smile? Yesterday was an epic fail. Here's the pics I got before everything went south. ;-)

Why I delude myself into believing organization is around the corner:

I've got a couple of things going for me. #1. I'm going to Ikea tomorrow and #2. I'm pregnant and hopefully nesting. If these two cosmic events can conspire to organize my life, I will be very happy for a short while until normalcy returns and I am again stuck with 1/2 sets of legos, miscellaneous parts to polly pockets, mason jars with grasshoppers inside them, a sticky refrigerator with popsicle juice making the freezer door stick and an insurmountable pile of school/mail/newspapers etc... PAPERS. I don't need these papers. I don't use credit cards. I don't want new windows or a roof or a kitchen remodel. I don't need anything from Pottery Barn. All of the store sales are online. Honestly, the school could just send home the kids papers that need work. I don't mind tissue paper in care packages from anyone. That is a totally acceptable source of paper.
A few months ago, I did a total detail of my car. It was the first in a very long time because Jody has officially surrendered to the chaos of all of our kids and sworn off ever dealing with the gooey, nasty, sometimes even puzzling contents of the van again. He no longer wanders the house with a mini paint roller on the weekends, nor does he insist on measuring before I hang a picture. The garage is a lost cause, as are many other things he has released with the intentional focus of staying sane. He has zeroed in on preserving the truck the children rarely ride in and the motorcycle that is his. Anyway, so somehow I told myself that if I totally cleaned the car it would probably stay pretty nice because the girls are so big now, they probably won't trash it. There is a slowly dawning realization in me that, perhaps the only way I stay sane is by deluding myself in such a way, although I can honestly say my sanity is under scrutiny lately. Today as I was preparing the van for the trip to Ikea, I realized that there were empty yogurt tubes in the floor, crushed up goldfish, whole animal crackers and splashes of chocolate milk here and there on the sides and doors. That's just a brief overview, I am sparing you the gritty details. My complete reluctance to "intentionally parent" is now reaping what has been sown. No longer can I claim my little piglets are just too little... no, this is my own creation. How does such a thing happen, you may ask. Well, I will tell you. It starts with me staring blankly when I come out of a craigslist "furniture hunting or selling" stupor which can last from 5 to even 45 minutes. I might slowly come into focus to realize of course, terrible things have been swirling around me a a dizzying speed. All of the couch cushions are removed, the Wii is going full blast, there's a cluster of cups of half drunk chocolate milk with a half a dozen straws and a handful of spoons, and chocolate milk powder loosely sprinkled around with little puddles of milk dripping down the edge of the table, and of course the milk is still sitting out. This may be small potatoes compared to what they have decided to "cook".
What will I do? I will go to Ikea, idealize my life in that store and then come home, have another baby and continue my life where I left off. When I don't know what to cook, I'll stand in the kitchen eating cherries and repeatedly opening the sticky refrigerator door and all of my other cabinets in quick succession with long pauses in front of the cereal boxes. When I have too many papers, I'll make them into a painting drop cloth for Nick. But for a day... there is Ikea.

Highs and lows

Sometimes I am swept away by how Jody loves me. He loves me so true. He's the most loyal of people. If I pick on him for the way he prioritizes his work, I always know in the back of my mind, it's not because he wants to do it, it's because he has to and he has to do it 110%, it's his way. What really amazes me and has every time I've carried one of his children, is how patient he is with my emotional highs and lows. He is so, so supportive. I wish every pregnant lady had a guy like him. He affirms me, he supports me, listens to all of my woes and seems to be genuinely interested in helping me work it all out. I could not ask for a better partner in life. Someday Eden, Kait and Nick will read this and hopefully it will set their standards for finding a person like Jody and being a person like him.
Lately, I've been trying to truly wrap my mind around the fact that I have a birth coming up. I'm in the last trimester. This is for real, and I've got some birth planning to do. Even as I write this, my entire belly is shaking. I guess this little persons ears are burning. My births feel so long ago that it seems like I've forgotten what my "priorities" for the birth were. With Kait I fantasized about baking a cake for everyone to eat after she came out while I was in labor. Ridiculous. I was thrashing around gyrating and praying somebody would get there before she came out which my midwife mentioned the other day. She laughingly said she remembers so clearly racing to my house to "catch that baby". With Nick, I just remember being so ready to go into labor for so long that we finally decided to wash the dogs because we had already done a "final grocery shopping" trip twice. I think with this one, I'll just make lists, like lists of helpful things to do during labor and my grocery list etc... buy a bottle of champagne and wait for the big day. My sister and friends want to come to the birth so I kind of picture it being a party. Baby comes out, we all have cake and champagne or fratata and mimosas depending on what time it is, then I collapse and they grab my cash and shopping list and do everything I should have done. Doesn't that sound nice? I guess with nesting I'll probably try to do everything myself after all but it's a nice fantasy. I guess my main wish is that everyone could be psychic. They hear my thoughts and put my hair in a ponytail or turn the lights down or grab me a glass of iced tea... all of those little things that drive a woman crazy in labor but she just can't articulate. But mostly, so help me, if anyone throws a pity party for me in labor this time, I'm going to attack them. I absolutely hate pity in labor and have yet to have a baby without someone saying something as stupid as I would if I were there helping.
Beyond that, I'm completely blank when I imagine myself holding a new baby with a new name and a new birthday. It's mind boggling. It's the most surreal pregnancy I've ever had. So many people have said the words "when you hold that baby" and I just can't even believe it. I try to picture myself holding a baby, wearing a sling again, nursing a baby, dragging a baby carrier around... it's literally inconceivable.

The end of summer

Yesterday was our last day of summer. Jody worked a ton of hours last week so he could have the day with us. It frustrates me to no end how overworked he is and how there is just nothing to be done, but I know I need to resign myself to the fact that it is not in my power to change that. Anyway, we went to Boondocks and we all had such a great time. There was a tranquility in the constant laughter and completely relaxed time. We had no schedule, no time frame, just family time. After countless go cart rides, bumper boat rides, laser tag and mini golf, we used up the last bit of time at the arcade. Eden had begged Jody to play WII with her, so we came home and he checked that off. Kait had begged for a bike ride to the park, so we checked that off and by then it was time for baths and bed. The end of summer came and that was it. I wish life could be an endless summer with Jody around to do all of that with us every day. It's taken me many years to realize it, but doing those kinds of things are so much better as a family than trying to go with friends and keep track of a gaggle of children.
At 11PM Nick got growing pains. It took awhile but we got that worked out. This morning at 5 the alarm went off. No, I do not have any idea why Jody either gets up that early or tries to every single day. I couldn't go back to sleep after that. It was nearly 6 when I gave up and got up. I made lunches, scones, sausage, tea and roused the girls. While I was making the lunches I realized that Kait won't be having lunch with me anymore. The water works started and haven't stopped since. Maybe it's because I'm pregnant, maybe it's because you really don't know how to appreciate that short time you have with each of your kids before school steals them away. I think of how I took it all for granted with Eden and then felt torn in half when she took off to first grade. I sat in a little puddle, wondering why I couldn't just breathe in and out and savor the experience of being with them. Now my little buddy sits beside me with his spider man tattoo watching me type. He's impressed with all of my letters. He isn't sure we should take a walk without Daddy and Eden and Kait. He says he isn't interested in doing any school with me but he'd consider playing trains. He isn't ready for his scone at the moment, but I imagine if I get him off for a walk he'll want to go home and eat his scone. I know how short this time is, it might be his last year keeping me company all day. And yet the years stretch before and behind me in a blur of happiness, sacrifice, stress and immeasurable joy. While my time is short, it seems I've never been without a little mouth to feed, a little sticky hand to wash, a carseat to buckle or a situation to negotiate, and really it seems I never will, even as my lovely little girls head off to school with their marching orders in hand.

I'm happy again

Kinda wandered my way out of the black forest a couple of days ago. Whew.
I sat in church this Sunday staring rather perplexed at a skirt hitting me mid-thigh in a sitting position thinking, how many wardrobe malfunctions can I have in a single pregnancy exclusively on Sunday? One day I got dressed, wandered around the house getting everyone ready to get out the door and looked down to realize my top would be fantastic for nursing... with the easiest access from the top ever. That was a last minute save at home but the very next week, I squeezed into a top, told myself it was the last time, got to church, sat down and the thing was gapping big holes of skin between each button. Well, what's a girl to do? I mean, I'm there now, it's just survive and repeat next week apparently. Fourth pregnancy? Seriously? Anyway, I charged into the grocery store today with my cavalcade in tow and met a cute little preggo girl striding out with a mid belly tank top and a mini skirt on. She was workin it. I guess that's the way to look at it. Hey, I'm Jennifer Aniston and I don't care if anyone sees my belly, 3/4's of my boob or a little butt cheek...
I'm also getting a little too much feedback on my body overall this time around. Whether it's someone exclaiming to me that I'm huge and asking me to agree or asking me when I'm due and then letting their eyeballs fall out when I answer. I mean seriously people. I'm not thrilled to be pregnant a fourth time, you are not helping things. I eat the nice feedback up like peanut butter cups. I can't believe how needy I am. When I get the "you are just such a cute little thing ALL BELLY" I bask. I know I've got a spare tire and back fat. I know the truth but feed my ego, make me feel good. What have you got to lose? One that gave me a couple of rounds of good belly laughs was when I mentioned my stomach had been hurting to my neigbors a few days ago and the husband looked over and said "ya know, you might be pregnant."
We are having our usual fall drama. School is starting in two weeks, our renters gave notice that they're moving out in four weeks and we have an appointment on Thursday to find out if Jody needs another surgery for his thyroid cancer. A month ago, this might have sent me into the nut house, but some crazy prayer warrior has bumped me up and I am sailing. My perception of Jody says, he's the same. We're going to be just fine.

Call me "The Hammer"

The other day I was told that the Bible is a guide, not something you "hammer" people with. It made me smile because I don't have to hammer people with the Word. "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. - Hebrews 4:12"
Having been on a very constant faith journey for the last four years, I can say that I depend upon that truth. I depend upon the Word to not just be a guide, with love and mercy as the only bottom line but as a strong, true, living, active and precise support system for me. When I am weak, the Word does not give me any less than I need. When I am dark, it does not fail me. This is not because of anything other than that it is literally breathing life into me. While other people may feel they need to caution me about sharing that part of the Word with a lost and dying world who just wants to be loved, I know that it is all that has sustained my mind from complete bedlam and I KNOW that it is what the hungry and lost in this world need. While love is sadly defined in any way a person wants it to be, and is confused with a myriad of other things, truth stands and truth guides and truth protects. It defines love and leaves nothing up to interpretation. The thing that I see Jesus offer in all of the gospels is truth in the spirit of love. It's not an easy example to follow, but after all he is the greatest example in history. He made no excuses for peoples sins, he only forgave the repentant and gave them truth to hold on to. And so, when I have fallen, I go to Him, knowing he will forgive me in love, but equally importantly He will give me the strength to change and be more like Him. In all of my discussions with my non-Christian friends over the years I've come across people who find it offensive. They are not in a place where they can humble themselves enough to repent and be forgiven, because they don't want to believe the sin in their lives is real and true. Many of them do not even agree with me when I mention my sins and even go so far as to argue with me about the existence of my very own sin. Love without the truth only excuses our behavior and beguiles us into believing that everything under the sun is okay. So, what I ask, hurts the lost more? Love without truth or truth without love? And what will sustain the faith of a child of God in the storm? The love or the truth? For me, I know that one can accomplish nothing without the other. It is true love!

You never really have "arrived"

My faith is not that of Peter's, nor even Thomas probably. Sometimes it is firm, sometimes it is weak and sometimes I am wandering in blackness repeating the truth to myself over and over wondering when the peace and faith will find me and restore the light. About a week ago, the blackness had it's grip and Satan who knows my deepest fears began to hammer away at me. He never stopped for a minute. At night as I would try to fall asleep, my heart would accelerate with fear and it held me like vise. I asked some friends to pray for me and I know they did. I know because, although I'm no sage, I do know a faithful prayer warrior. I suppose now, I could have asked for more people to pray me out of my dark place, but it felt like a mini-crisis that surely three faithful prayer warriors could extract me from. I felt better for a couple of days, then plunged again, repeated truth to myself, read the Word and waited for it to pass. I sold some furniture which boosted me but the niggle remained and the hair on the back of my neck was still on end.
Today, I got what I think is my breakthrough. I think. And although the miracles in my life are probably not worth writing to Guidepost over due to their almost normal appearance, they are worth writing to God over. I thank Him. He is always with me, and he does direct the feet of his faithful. I had some people coming to see a table and chairs in my kitchen and when I opened the door a beautiful Indian woman with a belly a tad bigger than mine stood there with her husband. I invited them in and felt happy. He explained to her why the table might not be the greatest for their space and she mentioned that she still really loved it, so he acquiesced. It was cute and very loving. I asked Jody to come in and help him take it apart, while asking them if they were from India. She said yes they were and I told them I'd had the joy of being a doula for an Indian couple and had been amazed at all of the cultural differences. She smiled and said, "oh, were they Hindu?" I said yes, and she agreed that they were very different. I was intrigued and asked her whether they were Hindu and she said "no, we're Christian." Jody came in and glanced at the husband and said "oh, you have thyroid cancer too!" I hadn't even noticed his scar but it was right there, just like Jody's. He'd had two surgeries, the last one had been two years ago, just like Jody. His vocal chord had been compromised like Jody's. His wife mentioned getting nervous about the checkup every six months and so here stood someone so like us, I couldn't quite believe it. She then mentioned that they had waited 9 months after his radioactive iodine treatment to conceive and that her husband wanted to have four or five kids. The strangest thing was, they were standing there in person addressing every fear that Satan planted in me. I was afraid the baby could have been affected by Jody's radioactive iodine treatment. Answered. I was afraid Jody's cancer could come back, answered by a little family who are fearlessly planning their life in spite of the same exact cancer. And finally, they paid me for the table, money being my other gripping fear right now with a baby on the way. This is all one month before Jody's July checkup and ultrasound. So, my wavering faith is again held by the steps of a righteous family living by faith right before my eyes. It's a comfort.

Father's Day this year and such

Father's Day was beautiful and fulfilling for Jody. This makes my heart sing because, well most of the time I don't feel that I measure up or that he'll ever really feel like I'm quite good enough.
Kait and I got up and made him waffles. She busied around like a little bee chopping strawberries and arranging them on superfluous dishes and pouring his orange juice, chattering at a dizzying speed which was for some reason driving me crazy. I repeatedly hollered for Eden and finally climbed menacingly into her bed and drug her downstairs with breakfast cooling which added steam to my irrationally irritable mood. Somehow we did it all, and Jody loved his breakfast despite the portly steaming spouse at the table. I'm not sure how, but I got a shower before church. We sat in church and a father of ten got up and spoke to the fathers about "intentional parenting". I was SO convicted. It wasn't my special day but I guess I'm a special case of always wallowing in my inadequacies. Jody enjoyed it too, which really is the main thing and then we went to the Father's Day car show that the church has every year. It was nice. We went home and chilled for awhile. Gave Jody a random smattering of presents from Lowe's that he loved. I don't know deep down whether he really did love and need them or whether he just tends to be gracious about receiving gifts, anyway, he doesn't seem to intend to return the deep well sockets, the measuring tapes, the drill bits or the screw driver heads... which I have decided to chalk up as a score. We then all suited up, loaded up and headed to the new bike park on Valmont in Boulder. I would definitely say that the ride could have gone better but Jody was simply radiant that we were all riding with him at the park on Father's Day. I'm not sure how many times he thanked each of us for participating, yes even the portentous marshmallow wife rode. So, I guess we'll try to hit it again this weekend and hopefully things will go a little more smoothly each time until I'm to the waddle and squat point. Then we went home and grilled brats and hung out as a family. I call the day a success.
The kids have each had some special little moments as their anticipation of the baby grows. Nick now ascertains to me daily that the baby is a girl and still plaintively asks me if the baby is going to come out soon. One day he pointed at a picture of a baby at Costco and told me it was like OUR baby and pointed at my growing girth. He also informed Eden's friend who was here for a sleepover that there was a baby in his mom's tummy in a stage whisper. He loves my belly with complete abandon, even pulling my shirt up at the library today to whisper little messages with his lips smooshed against me followed by several wet kisses.
The other day I was telling Kaitlyn what all I needed her to do and she said "okay, but can I please visit the baby first? I haven't visited the baby in so long." She then pulled up my shirt, repeated her name about ten times to the baby, kissed my stomach and left.
Eden, after having tried to get her hand on my belly for a good kick for a couple of weeks announced to me that she thought that the baby stopped kicking when I told people, so she just wanted me to gesture to her and she would come feel it. I did this two or three times and sure enough, she finally got a good kick. When she got the kick, I stayed calm to see if she noticed it and her eyes widened and she looked ready to burst with glee." My nose got kinda burny and I know it's just the whole pregnancy hormone thing, so somehow I kept it cool and we just enthused together without mom falling apart into a weeping mess.
Kait had now of course just had it with the situation because Eden felt the baby move and she didn't so she wouldn't even try for a couple of days, but yesterday she did and got a nice big thump and the same glow came over her face. The expression of rapture again made my nose start burning, but I did my best to act normal and savor her moment with her as well.
All is well on the home front. I get bigger, summer gets hotter, kids get the summer crazies a little worse and Jody works harder, because that's what engineers do in the summer.
This is an article on the project he just finished called Fillmore Plaza in Cherry Creek, my old hood. And I guess, now he's hard at work on the phase II of the Erie Park which will be of great personal benefit to his family. I'm looking forward to it.
http://www.bizjournals.com/denver/news/2011/06/23/cherry-creek-plans-renovation-party.html
He just showed me a night scene picture of it tonight.

It makes my heart burst with pride that Jody was part of something so American, so capitalistic, so successful at driving the economy in the only sure way to make it work. Just hard working people, putting their money to work and growing businesses and creating jobs without government handouts or interferences.

Father's Day Special

I can't remember a single Father's Day from when I was a kid. I can't remember a single thing I did for my dad, but he is wonderful and I hope we made them special and I just forgot. I see a lot of myself in him. My kids want me to take them off to do something and I want them to all pitch in and help me get caught up so I can enjoy it too. They just don't get it, and I don't think we did as kids either. I've always been very close to Dad and I think it's because I grabbed whatever opportunity came my way to go be with him. My siblings tend to complain about Dad always being too busy when we were kids, but I think I spent more time with Dad than not. I helped him sell and install water softeners, fetched water or tea to the hayfield, rode the tractor with him, hauled hay with him, went to the sale barn with him, listened to him talk about everything under the sun to other grownups while I twirled on the counter stool at the hardware store or the tractor parts store or traced the design of the oriental rug in the front room at Culligan. I counted inventory in the back of Culligan with him (I never knew it stuck but I know the diameter of any pipe or fitting on sight), played around in the haybarn and on the pallets of salt in the back of Culligan while he loaded and unloaded. And it had a million rewards. I know songs that other people my age don't even know exist, I've had an ample supply of mounds bars and nehigh peach sodas. I've acquired things like a beaver fur hat custom made for me and taken home a kitten on his whim. I've been on roads in Arkansas and Missouri that most people will never travel and have memories of watching the hay baler knotter being repaired over and over and over. I've chopped wood, helped repair a sickle bar, sharpened chainsaws and smashed my fingers stacking firewood more times than not. All the while, going to church anywhere from twice to five times per week, and hearing the Word over and over and over. Some would say that on Father's Day, we celebrate the dads for taking us to theme parks or going skiing, but for me, it's a day I celebrate being included in EVERYTHING in my Dad's life, being taught at his knee and having more memories with him than not from my childhood.

A boy is a wonderful thing...

Pinata booty, which was then supplemented by Cam, a darling "big kid" who graced Nick's party.

I love my boy. He be celebrated his fourth birthday two days ago and I have such a hard time remembering life without his wonderfulness. Four years and two days ago, I was thrashing around in a birth tub, struggling for words to tell people to turn off the damn lights and turn on my Sarah MacLachlan music. Then, Eden was announcing to the room at large that he was a boy. My boy. Jody's boy. Such a real boy. He saunters, he talks about cars and trucks, holds me and kisses me every day, loves his nerf gun and zooms around on his strider bike like a wild man. The night before his birthday, I prayed for him and he grabbed my hand and held it and said "Mom, lets talk about cars." I begged him to stay three for another year and he obligingly agreed. The essence of Nick is yellow crocs, a ball cap, a bag of chips and either a car, a backhoe a bike or a gun. I love every minute with him. The other day he found a thumb tack and brought it to me. I asked him what he had found and he drug the point of it down the arm of our leather chair. I jumped and screamed. Tears filled his eyes and his lip wobbled, "sowwy Mom, sowwy!" Eh, who cared about the dumb chair anyway? He loves his dogs to a painful degree. Sometimes I don't know how they endure being the bad guys for at least half of the day but he does make it up to them with those painfully tight love holds. He plaintively told me he wants to play with the baby today. He's tired of waiting for it. I'm not tired of waiting, but I'm glad he is. I love my Nick. If I want a cuddle, he seems to always be handy, he will hold me, kiss me and nuzzle me in the most endearing way. He loves blankies, snuggling and reading stories. I can't think of anything Nick doesn't love. He's enthusiasm and joy from life gives me a thrill every day. The face he had when the waitresses sang "Happy Birthday" to him at Red Robin, was priceless.
I know for certain that the children we have been given are the greatest and most undeserved blessing of our life. The gift of spending our days and nights enjoying their presence is purely a gift. The gift of joy, time, love and memories. I hope I hold the pieces inside like a treasure and open the trove from time to time, so I can remember the cute little words, the hilarious facial expressions and the unexpected offerings of love.
Nicks birthday weekend was complete. He had a grand pancake breakfast made by Daddy, a dinner out, a huge party the next day with water balloon fights, a pinata, a cool tipi, hot dogs, cake, ice cream and water guns. It was a great "little boy" birthday party. It's been awhile coming. His birthdays up to now haven't amounted to much and I think this one was tops! We decided since he doesn't have very many little friends, we would have a family style party and invite anyone who has been a friend to Nick, and that turned out to be kids anywhere from the age of 1 to 12, with a total of 18 kids in attendance. For me, it was so great to have my guests arrive on foot or on bikes. We have such a fantastic community of people here and I've been lonesome for that for a long time. The second thing I realized and personally appreciated, were the benefits of having big kids at a little kids party... well the right kind of big kids, the kind that hand me paper plates, and remove difficult packaging for toys, give the little guy part of their pinata booty, let him whack them with swords during a serious water gun fight and clean up the remains of a pinata massacre. That kind! That last pic, is of Nick nailing Kieli with a water balloon.
I love you so much little boyo. My little Boo.

The end of school

We finished school today. I get a little weepy here and there. I really can't quite sort out whether I feel like I'm indulging in something when I cry about the kids growing up or whether I'm being forced down that path by a bunch of sentimental chain jerkers. Either way, every year I get misty eyed. I'll be honest that I can't say I felt misty eyed over Eden moving on. She seemed to respect her teacher this year but there wasn't that bond where you know that your kid has a teacher who loves his/her students each and every one and they are all special to her. Her teacher had favorites and Eden wasn't on her short list. I kind of felt sad for her but I do know that her first two teachers were genuinely fond of her and enjoyed talking about her, so I guess you can't have it all. Kait, on the other hand, had that special teacher this year. The one that has warm and special words for each of her students and loves them all completely. I love seeing that coming from a teacher because they make such an impact on a childs life. Some of them grasp that and consider it part of their job description. It's something I appreciate that as a meddlesome critical parent.
I've felt a little person bee bopping around inside of me. Sometimes I take a minute to imagine what the little person doing somersaults and kickboxing inside of me would look like if I could see. Kait wanted to know how big it's gotten so I checked a weekly growth log on the internet. The analogies always crack me up. A bell pepper. Okay. Well, I'm not sure why almost every fetal development analogy is food oriented, but that's what we get so... the bell pepper was kicking it up today. If it were me writing it, I'd use different animals each week. It would be sure to give pregnant women crazy nightmares of delivering a guinea pig, chihuahua or a prairie dog or something. That's definitely something to motivate a woman to take her sticky white baby with gooey hair and often bruised up cone head and kiss it with fervor. All while having the incoherent thought of "thank GOD you aren't a weiner dog!" That must be why they use food. We all know it's not a watermelon in there, we know it's alive and somehow I think the seed could be planted in a crazy pregnant mind quite easily that you've got an alien or furry creature growing inside you. Just sayin.
Eden loves the science of things, so we were discussing how the body breaks down food and passes calories through the umbilical cord to the baby at dinner tonight. She got a bright smile and told me that the baby is like a balloon inside of me and the umbilical cord is pumping it up. I guess this is cute but is it very fun for a woman to think about someone hooking a bicycle pump up to her for the fourth time in her life? No, it's not fun. Do I want to feel like my belly might split right down the middle at any moment again? This is not a trick question. No, I don't!
Here was a grand time I had at the kindergarten party. Another woman who accidentally had a fourth child found out I was accidentally pregnant with a fourth child. She attached herself to me like a leach telling me how horrible it is to have four kids and how awful it is to get pregnant with a fourth child when you didn't plan it. I tried to dodge her, repeatedly rushing over to get my arms pulled out of their sockets doing the parachute game with the kids, but as soon as I gave out, she would catch me again and ply me with inappropriate questions and volunteer an unnerving amount of personal emotions over her FOURTH pregnancy. I didn't learn anything that you could say to make a woman feel better about an unplanned pregnancy but I did learn several things not to say. If this is making you fearful of what you should say to a woman who isn't thrilled to be pregnant, I have a bit of advice. Just laugh when she does and shake your head with a sad smile when she does and whack her on the back and tell her she'll be fine. It's fairly elementary. Don't be surprised if she tells you one day that she has come to terms and then complains for a week straight, followed by another announcement that she is finally happy to be pregnant. It seems to be part of the "process" from what I can determine. Obviously it has nothing to do with not wanting your child. They are purely selfish emotions related to self, not child.
My very most favorite quote of the week is "it all goes so quickly, savor every minute." My reply was "I'll try to savor at least one out of ten and call it good." Seriously, this incredibly short stage is lasting for a significant portion of my life at this point. I did just sit and stare at all three of them. I tried memorizing their faces and funny things but it's just a big mosh. What a waste of emotion and memory space. Now I appear to have completely run out of emotion and memory and I've got another little person to pour all of that into all over again.
For any person reading this who didn't have the sense to laugh: I'm FINE! I'm FINE. I am trying to be funny. It's a raw attempt at dry wit and sarcastic inappropriate humor.

Beauty of a season

It's spring. Some days are windy, some are sunny and some are rainy. I've been told by a friend who lives in Portland that nobody is sharing much pity for a person in Colorado who cries in her teacup over four days of rain. I think we had more than four days of rain but somehow I don't think that makes much difference to the people sweltering in Arkansas and living under umbrellas in Portland. It may very well have drowned the tomato plants... but again, I doubt this is dredging up much pity from any front.
We are leaning into our last week of school. I can almost taste the freedom but first we must do two weeks of swim lessons at 8AM. Then I'm free. Free as a bird to sweat my way through summer with a growing baby belly.
This afternoon we went to a neighbors house. They bought some furniture from me and mentioned they had to postpone coming to see it because they had baby goats born. It was practically an invitation to see the little cutie pies, so we ate a quick lunch and scuttled over there to cuddle some little warm soft bits of God's creation. They had a two month old llama named Bandit, so we got to visit with him too. Adorable!
When we got home, it was such a lovely day the kids decided to plant my pepper and collard green plants. Mommy remembered to take pictures! Everyone pat me on the back! These are the moments we wish we had pictures of, and this time I DO!

Savor the flavor

My hazelnut tea sits beside me in a cup Kait specially picked for me this AM. It's filled with the tea from Eden and Kait's cups after they left for school. I am honored that they favor me with little expressions of love and flattered that they wanted to have tea with me this morning. I over steeped it, so they didn't drink it. I love the tender taste buds that haven't been hardened by years of parenting. I remember when an over steeped pot of tea went right down the drain. Now, I just savor the flavor and imagine how perfect it could have been.
We had some lovely conversations this morning, centering around the baby. It started with some new words crossing my lips. I told them I'm excited to be pregnant. They had no idea this was a milestone with me which I think is a small miracle and definitely a good thing. I said something to the effect of having wished I could have picked my last baby out at an orphanage in Africa but this was great too. Eden volunteered Kait or Nick for taking me on that journey but reasserted her age old message of "but I'm not sure I'll ever have kids so I probably won't do that." I laughed and told her it wasn't very fair for her to be all excited for me to have four kids and then warn me that she might not ever give me any grandchildren. Eden told me her friend Destinee was amazed that I'm pregnant which Eden related with the "play by play" effect. It made me feel weird and old. You can't really describe how weird it is for one of your kids to relate to you what other people think of your pregnancy when you've always just had little toddlers running around when you get pregnant saying "mommy has a baby in her tummy! mommy has a baby in her tummy!"
I'm always looking to see what's under the surface with the girls so I said. "What would you say if someone wanted to know why I have babies at home?"
Eden's had a certain air about her since she was two and it always tricks me into parenting her like she's a teenager for some reason. She paused in her lunch making, and while holding a ziploc bag, an air of knowledge fell over her like a mantle. "I would just tell them that you are more comfortable at home and you have your babies in the water instead of an old hard bed because the water makes you feel better." She said the word 'feel' with great emphasis.
Kaitlyn piped in with "I'm going to tell everyone that you like to have your babies in a tub!" Nice visual Kait, now I do feel like the weirdos on the SNL skit.
Yesterday Kaitlyn also asserted to me that dinosaurs are distinct. She was so proud of the use of the word. My little mini me. I remember reading the dictionary and practicing words and thinking of profound sentences to use them in only to finally lay it out there for Mom and Dad and have them burst into hysterical laughter and then pronounce it properly to me.
Jody and I are picking baby names. He has no motivation so I'm rolling along like a steam roller with him going around and around the steel plate against his will. I write lists with names, where they are on the popularity chart and what they mean. I email them to him and he grudgingly highlights the one's he likes in red. We're only on the first name right now so I can see this could be a rather lengthy process. We have two solid ideas but I do have a name I just can't convince him of for a girl but I WANT it. I have this annoying habit of thinking if I say it over and over to him in a cute voice he will grow to like it. Jody's stubborn so it will probably have the opposite effect.
I have stared at baby things on craigslist for three months. I am not convinced I need a single thing I've seen. I have a very short list of six things I need which of course will have to be new (carseat) or from a specialty store sigh. I hate having had so much baby experience. It makes me so picky. The rest of that stuff all depends on the baby. When you KNOW it's your last one, there is no point in having something that your baby might not like. That's my philosophy anyway. I will admit that this could be a hangover from the incredibly liberating process I went through two years ago when I got rid of a million baby things. Having that snatched away is a bit of a stabbing pain because the kids have certainly acquired enough things to compensate for the unloading of baby paraphernalia. I feel almost claustrophobic when I go in the "baby room" and the kids have scattered their stuff around playing. They CANNOT grow into that room. They CANNOT!
Later today Nick strolled into the kitchen while Fiona was here for a playdate with Kait. He told me "The girls are in the bedroom, but I'm not a "girly girl" I'm a boy like daddy---- and the baby." Oh sweet Jesus, let the boy have a boy please! I can't imagine his disappointment with another sister. LOL! He looked at me quizzically and said "do we still have a baby Mom?" I said "yeah, it's still in my tummy." He kicked the kitchen cabinet with his toe and said "I want to see it" and turned and ambled out of the kitchen.
Nick played with a one year old baby at Bible study the other day and he was quite funny. He had no concept of appropriate play for such a tiny tot which gave me giggles. I think he loved the baby but when the baby came to me and was talking gibberish, Nick scrambled up me like a cub and said very plainly "this is MY mommy" while holding me in a crushing hug. Oh boy. How do the one's who got to be the baby for this long cope I wonder. I do wonder.

The sower of the Word

Matthew 13

3 Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. 4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. 8 Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. 9 Whoever has ears, let them hear.”
18 “Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: 19 When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. 20 The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. 21 But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 22 The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. 23 But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

It's supposed to be a challenge, something to rise to. Something to be. But I've been a bumbling sower for years. I find it... frustrating. I read the parable and I see faces. I see the one's who had no roots. Then I think about the the one's who didn't try to understand me, and instead tried to see the Word through human eyes which enabled Satan to steal it from them. It's such a downer. Recently, I had a little boost though. A friend told me that people I didn't know, had been witnessing to and praying for a family who I had recently invited to church for years. All it took was a warm conversation and an invitation to church, for something to start. Jesus, my prophet. I love it when your words match something happening in my life. It makes me feel like you're my friend and not just a friend of the disciples.

John 4
36 Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. 37 Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. 38 I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.”

I'd like to hug every sower in that family's life. I'd like to be glad with them. I'd also like to think that I'm wrong about the one's who's faces are like ghosts to me. I'd like to think that they WERE fertile ground and my seeds were slow to germinate or were dormant. That someone even now might be reaping the harvest of something sown long ago.

"The Best Mom in the World"

When Jody pulled me close and pressed his mouth into my hair and told me I was the most amazing mother and he couldn't imagine anyone else who could be a better mother to his children, you'd think I would get a warm fuzzy glow. Instead, I got the jolt we all get but somehow I think mine is worse than average, Mother guilt. I wish I were better. I wish, I wish, I wish. Mostly, I wish I measured up to the beautiful cards the kids made and people gave me. I wish I were the greatest mom in the world so those cards would feel like a well deserved accolade and I was finally being given proper appreciation.
Last week was just basically a bust. Nick ran away with Journey on his strider. I ran and screamed and ran and screamed but they were out of earshot and I was just a gasping, fat, pregnant woman standing there with anger and fear competing for the top emotion. In those terrible twenty minutes when he was lost, all I could do was burst into tears, imagining the worst and wondering why in the world God had put another child inside of me. The next day I got a call reminding me to pay a very important bill... How did I forget that? It was three days late! The next day I got an email from Kaitlyn's teacher wondering if I'd forgotten her assessment. Two days later... yes I got a day of respite, my carpool friend called me and wondered if I'd forgotten the kids at school. Oh, yes I had! I can't do it! I really can't. I'm too lazy, too disorganized and too everything for four kids. I say it to friends and they give me an uncomprehending smile. They really don't think it's that big of a deal. They have planners that are completely filled in. They have a laundry system. They have clean bathrooms. This is a part of their daily routine, and yet their lives are a mystery to me. I'm just that simple girl who falls off of the organization wagon, has a complete wipe out and has to create a new resolve on a regular basis.
I kind of wonder sometimes... what if there were a super mom about twenty years older than me, who would come live with me for a month and teach me how to be "The Best Mom in the World". She could put me on a schedule, use a hot shot on me when I sit down to puddle on Craigs List or my blog and lecture me for several hours per day on how to be the proverbial virtuous woman, all while reminding me of the schedule. I wonder if it would create a new mentality for me. I wonder if that would be the key to becoming "The Best Mom in the World."

Another year slides by...

On May 2nd, 2005 I woke up about 7:30AM wondering if I would be pregnant forever or just go into labor someday. At 10:35AM, I was holding a screaming baby girl in my arms who had been named before Christmas, Kaitlyn Belle Allen. It was like I'd always known her. She flew out of me like greased lightning and I had to tell someone to grab her before she banged her head on the floor of the birth tub. It was probably the most defining day of my life as a woman, so I could really go on and on, but today I celebrate six years of knowing and loving Kait, not the anniversary of the day I realized I was superwoman. Just kidding, really.
So, what started out as a blood curdling scream the day she was born has now grown into nonstop chatter...and she has a quip and a sassy remark for everything that comes up. She'll negotiate anything, from changing into her play clothes, to getting candy before dinner. Even after my final answer... I swear I have no idea who she takes after. No, honestly? Every time she pops off, I feel like I'm looking in a mirror at myself 25 years ago and I feel laughter bubbling inside me. I guess there's more to Kait than just that smart mouth though. She's spunky, riding her bike fearlessly and stubborn, holding her position just a little longer than I can stand sometimes, sensitive when she thinks someone is laughing at her and fragile, bursting into tears when someone forgets to pray with her before bed; she's beautiful, taking strangers breath away and thoughtful, making a special breakfast for Jody and me on our anniversary; practical, explaining her reasoning of things to no end and even autocratic at times, demanding that Eden and Nick play exactly what she wants in the way she wants with the characters she wants, and with the lines she wants them to say. But mostly, Kait is loving. She is so kind to her siblings and so helpful to me. I always feel a spirit of love in her. Ginny calls her a "Who" because she has a little "Who" face but underneath I don't think she's quite so gullible and maleable as little "Cindy Lu Who". Her foundation is solid,her faith is unshakable and I foresee a girl who will plow her way through life, with not just a conscience, but a determination to see that truth is upheld. Yes, I'm proud of my little Kaity Kat, but who wouldn't be?