Luke's 7 Year Pictures

When we lived in Texas, the end of June was way too hot to take Luke's birthday pictures.  So I put it off until things cooled down.  In reality, I put it off until Max's birthday approached and I remembered that I never took Luke's, so his pictures were always carefully taken around pumpkins and fall decor in the background.

Old habits die hard, I guess.  It's nice in Colorado during the summer.  But Luke's pictures got put off again, just like always.  I finally took them on November 1. In a way, maybe it's good because it still remains a yearly glimpse.  Now I just have to get Max's in before winter hits.  The snow falling this morning isn't making me feel too confident about that.

But here's Luke in his toothless, beautiful, 7 year old glory...

Obviously he needs new jeans. 

For some reason this one reminds me of a freshly hatched chick.

And this one looks exactly like pictures of me when I was younger.

I think I should sell his face to magazines to pay for his college fund.

And this one just flat out cracks me up.

To make him smile, I asked him who was the prettiest girl in first grade.  His reply? "Miss Lere," his teacher.  

Then I asked him who was prettier, Miss Lere or Mommy?  He laughed for a minute and then said, "Mommy."

Don't tell anyone one but I think he's my favorite, at least for today.

Halloween 2014

Every three days for the last 4 months, Max has changed his mind about what he was going to be for Halloween.  And in between breaths he would admonish me, "You better get sewing, Mom."  And I would try to explain that I wasn't about to start sewing a costume for a boy who couldn't make up his mind.  But both he and I knew that the closer it got to the baby's arrival, the less likely I was to sew anything at all.

Making Halloween costumes is one of the creative outlets I enjoy as a human.  Not much I do these days, is for the sole sake of my enjoyment.  That's not to say that I don't enjoy a lot of things, it's just that most of my enjoyment comes as a result of something else that I need to do.  I guess Halloween costumes fit in this category too.  But honestly, I just really, really like to make stuff.

As baby day approached, I started to doubt my costume making abilities with the newborn and told myself that it wouldn't be a big deal if I bought everyone's, though the thought did make me a little sad.

So wouldn't you know, that the afternoon of the Trunk or Treat, I was in the basement feverishly sewing and altering.  It was a little more harried than I would have liked but I finished just in time.

Max finally settled on a vampire though he was freaked out by the teeth and decided not to wear them.

Ava knew months ago that she would be a gypsy and insisted on Trick or Treating barefoot even though it was pretty chilly.

 Luke didn't know what he wanted to be.  Unbeknownst to me, Dan talked him into a football player.  I never would have encouraged that because football helmets and uniforms are expensive and I couldn't stomach the look of the one piece polyester football player costume for $25 that Dan found online.  So poor Luke, when questioned about Halloween would always say, "I wanted to be a football player but my mom wouldn't let me so I have to be a pirate."  It's kind of true, but in my defense, he picked the pirate idea all on his own.

And in the end I think he liked it.

I was pretty sure Finn wouldn't have a costume.  I didn't think he would go for wearing anything and I didn't think I'd actually have time to make anything.

But inspiration struck at the last moment when he just happened to be dressed in grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie.  Thus, the mouse was born, and he didn't really even realize that he was dressed up.

Some friends came over and we went around our neighborhood together and had a great time, while Grandma Linda and Grandpa Don, who were visiting, held down the fort and passed out candy.

And the pirate, mouse, vampire, and gypsy would all agree that it was a Happy Halloween!

Sleep talking

If I look like I haven't slept for 5 weeks it's because  I haven't. I've broken every rule I've ever made in regards to my newborn's sleep (no co-sleeping, teach them to fall asleep on their own, etc). It hasn't even helped but it has afforded me plenty of moments like this that I would have missed. And I'm not saying I'm glad my baby's tummy hurts so bad he can't sleep, or that I'd rather not sleep more than 3 hours a night, but I am saying that if this is how things have to be, his little cheek on mine in the early morning hours is a nice perk.

Five

He is stubborn. He wears the same Spider Man pajamas every single day. His greatest fear is that I will forget to pick him up from preschool. He eats non-stop. He cries WAY too loud. He says long winded, yet thoughtful prayers. He rarely stops talking. He's twice the size of most kids his age. He passes out hugs and "I love you's" like candy. He thanks me for dinner every night and tells me I sing beautiful songs. He sings to all his favorite songs in the car with enthusiasm that sometimes hurts my ears. Last week when I dropped him at preschool he told me, "Have a sweet time at home, Mom, and don't forget about me!" And I hope he knows the huge space he fills in my heart would make that absolutely impossible. Happy 5th birthday, Max!

Jack Aaron

Friday September 19, I couldn't help picturing myself giving birth in the mall after a trip in for a nursing bra brought a fresh round of "sit down on that bench before the baby falls out" contractions.

 At my appointment that afternoon, I was dilated another centimeter, to a 5, and the doctor agreed that the sooner the induction, the better. If it was up to me, I would have walked across the hall to the hospital and popped the baby out right then and there.  But the doctor thought Monday would be better.

So Monday September 22, I woke early and drove myself to the hospital.  Dan stayed to get the kids off to school and met me later, as I was receiving the second dose of antibiotics and just before the doctor broke my water. He hoped that alone would be enough to start regular contractions, but it wasn't.  I was so ready to be done, I would have been fine if they pumped me full of pitocin.  About an hour later, with no real change, they decided to start it.  And when they started, those contractions were not messing around. I suppose since I was already dilated, all that was left were the big daddy ones at the end.  I decided on the epidural pretty quickly especially since my nurse promised me I wouldn't have to have a catheter.

  

It was probably the worst epidural I've had, though it did take the edge off.  Less than 2 hours later it was time to push.  And a couple of contractions later, he was here. 

The doctor wiped him down and set him right on my chest.  And I cried.  And I loved him.

Babies are miracles. 

 I loved my doctor.  I have always been opposed to having a male OB, but when I moved here, I ended up at a practice of 3 male Ob's.  I planned to switch, but after meeting him the first time, I changed my mind.  Of all the doctors I've had, I could tell that this guy truly understood the gravity of growing and delivering human life.  He knew it was a miracle too.  I'll never forget his face as we heard the baby's heartbeat at that first appointment.  He was as awed as I was.

And he handed me my baby, not like it was his job, but like he was handing me my own heart. 

He was 7 lbs. 7 oz. and 19" long.

  Being my fifth baby, the nursing staff at the hospital basically left me alone.  The lactation consultant came and went without so much as an attempt to man handle my baby feeders or watch how well he latched, which was a real perk.

Meanwhile, we could not pick a name.  We kept thinking and thinking.  

Dan brought all the kids back after school.  Of course they were so excited to meet their new brother.

And we've done this "meet the baby" thing a few times now, but never have I seen a reaction quite like Finn's.  He was so happy.  He was so soft, and he was so excited.  But I can't really explain it.  It was as though he recognized the baby.  He knew him.  Like he had been waiting for him to get here.  

He laid his head over on the baby's so gently, again and again. 

I was reminded of the feelings I had very shortly after I had Finn.  The ones telling me that we shouldn't wait to have the next baby. The ones we wrote off because they were crazy.  But the ones that ultimately comforted me so much when we found out we were pregnant anyway a few short months later.  

These boys didn't want to be apart.

Tuesday morning when I called Dan, he said he had woken up early to throw up.  As the day went on, he got sicker and sicker, and kept puking and puking.  I knew it was bad when he called me at the hospital asking me to call people to come to our house and get the kids.  He told me to tell them the garage code because he could not get up to let them in.

So, two kind friends came in the house and each took Finn and Max.  

Later that day Dan got a blessing.  

He went to urgent care where he was given IV fluids.

Another friend, Emily, picked up Ava and Luke from school, took them back to her house, met the other friends back at the house with Finn and Max, that night and put all the kids to bed, while Dan was dying in bed.

Luckily, by Wednesday morning he was still really weak but feeling much better.  He came over to the hospital around midday to pick me up. By that time I had filled out the birth certificate.  Tuesday Dan could hardly talk, let alone have a discussion with me about names.  That morning he told me to just pick one.  We had been choosing between Jack and Jonas.  But when it came down to it, I wrote Jack on the paper and told Dan his name when he got to the hospital.  We picked Aaron months ago after my brother. I drove myself home since we had both of our cars there.

And from there on it was real life. 

My sister, Chandra, was scheduled to arrive in two weeks.  Dan took off the rest of that week and then half days for the week after that. And we made it. It wasn't even that ugly.  Not easy, but not ugly either.

With 5 babies as beautiful as these, life may be hard but it I'm not sure I could ever really call it ugly.

Number 5

So we're having a baby tomorrow.

This fact has been a source of great excitement but also of great worry and concern.

This is number 5, which feels like a lot.

Number 1 is struggling and causing a lot of added stress.

Number 4 is 18 months old and actually still a baby himself.

If just one of these above statements wasn't in play I think I would be a lot less worried.

But they are all very much in play.

So today I took the three older kids to church while Dan stayed home with Finn who doesn't seem to be feeling well.

But at church my mind was a million other places.

We are having another kid tomorrow!  A thought which leads my mind down a road with many twists and turns and leaves no room for paying attention to talks during sacrament meeting.

I questioned why I was still sitting there.  I had a million things to do at home to get ready and I was obviously not about to garner anything from this meeting.

As it was coming to an end, I was as anxious as the kids to say that last "amen".

But first we had to sing a closing hymn.

How Firm a Foundation.  That's a good one.

When we got to the last verse, it was clearer than glass why I needed to be in that meeting today,  perfectly clear through the Holy Ghost that there was something to be garnered even through my own jumbled thoughts and worries.

I felt with perfect clarity these words were directly for me:

Fear not, I am with thee
Oh, be not dismayed.
For I am thy God
 and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee,
Help thee,
and cause thee to stand.
Upheld by my righteous,
omnipotent hand.


I know that Heavenly Father is exactly aware of our family right now, as He has always been.  The reminder of that has to be one of the best feelings.

And this one was especially sweet.