Joy to the World

On April 4, 2018, we welcomed our sixth child into this world. After five kids, I thought I knew what my labors were like. She changed everything.

In the weeks leading up to the delivery, I had several appointments and tasks I needed to complete. The running joke was that "after this, I can go into labor." Well, my to-do list grew shorter and shorter, and there was still no baby in sight. Finally, two days after my due-date, Timo asked me to give him a haircut. After that, I could have the baby, we joked. After I finished cutting his hair, he went to the bathroom to comb it to see if there were any stray hairs I needed to trim. I had just finished trimming his last stray hair when I felt a gush of fluid.

"I think my water just broke," I stated.

"Really?" he responded, doubtfully. My water had never broken on its own.

"Yeah," I said, as I started to remove my soaked pants.

After hopping in the shower and changing into some dry clothes, we headed to the hospital. I still was not having contractions, but I continued to gush fluid, especially when Timo made me laugh. The towel I was sitting on was not sufficient to absorb the tremendous amounts of amniotic fluid, and my pants wicked it down my legs and onto the floor of Timo's truck.

A couple of minutes before we arrived, I started to have mild contractions. After parking the truck, we headed up to the maternity ward, where I was given a dry hospital gown. After I was given the go-ahead, we walked the halls, timing contractions by how many I had in one turn around the hallways. When the contractions started to get more painful, I headed back to the room. Upon discovering that I was still only dilated to a four, I decided to walk the halls again, this time with an IV in tow. The pain eventually got bad enough that I decided it was time to ask for an epidural. Unfortunately, it did not work its magic for me this time. One side of my body was pretty numb, but I could feel everything on the other side.

Assuming that my progress would slow down after receiving the epidural, I sent Timo to the cafeteria to get some dinner. As my contractions grew stronger and stronger, I began to regret my decision. When the nurse checked me, she was surprised to find that I was about ready to push. And Timothy still wasn't back. I called him. No answer. As I struggled to send him a text while breathing through a painful contraction, he walked in the door. I felt so relieved, but I still had to wait for the doctor.

Thankfully, the doctor and resident arrived soon, and I could finally push. About ten minutes later, our sweet baby 6 was born. They immediately put her on my chest for some bonding time while waiting for the cord to finish pulsing so they could clamp it off. After Timo cut it, I sat there bonding with my newest bundle of joy, finally able to hold my cutie pie. She weighed 8 lb. 10.3 oz, and measured 19.75 inches.

At five hours of labor, this was my quickest delivery and the only time my water broke on its own. I am sure she will continue to pave her own way, proving that she is her own person in many more areas of life. And I will love her through it all.

S's Fourth Birthday Party

We celebrated S's fourth birthday last night, with a Mickey Mouse theme, just one special friend, and plenty of pizza and chocolate.

Since S did not have a party last year, he was allowed to invite friends over this year. He chose just one person, opting for familiarity over chaos (because, let's face it, that is what a party of preschoolers is). S wanted me to order pizza, so we started with pizza before the kids went off to play. Timo was traveling, but he came home in time for pie and presents. S does not like cake. He never has, and I have not baked him a cake since his first birthday, when I was clueless. Knowing this, I created for him a Kinder chocolate "cupcake" instead, and baked a chocolate silk pie for everyone else. This was purely selfish because I wanted chocolate pie instead of cake. Since my birthday boy was happy, I took liberty to indulge myself (although I didn't hear any complaining from the peanut gallery).

His party was very low-key, but S smiled his huge smile as I tucked him into bed that night. "Happy birthday, Sweetie," I said before giving him a hug and a kiss.

K's Eleventh Birthday

As I had told the older kids we would only be celebrating with family this year, K did not enjoy the shenanigans of a party like she did last year. This is not to say she did not enjoy her birthday. She had requested Tunnel of Fudge Cake for her cake, a choice based on the phenomenon of her remembering Timothy celebrating with that cake when she was a mere 2 1/2 years old. I was not sure if her expectations would be met as sometimes memories improve experiences above and beyond reality. However, as she took that first bite of cake, her face reflected her approval, and I sighed with relief.

The day went much like many others, with K allowed a lighter load at school but still attending a full afternoon of ballet. She finished late, but we waited for her and enjoyed her choice of ribs, creamy potatoes (and creamy sweet potatoes for Timothy), and vegetables for dinner, followed by cake and presents. It wasn't a birthday that was especially remarkable, but, at the end of the day, I believe I had a happy girl on my hands. Happy 11th, sweetheart!

From Little Girl to Little Lady

This month Kristen turned eleven. As the oldest child, she has always shown maturity in certain areas, and viewing her as a young lady was not a push for me. However, I realized when looking back over photos of the past years just how much she has grown, both in physical appearance and behavior. Not that merely reaching eleven has suddenly caused her to turn a corner in any respect, but the number helps cement what I have been witnessing for the past years. K is growing up. Her time at home is growing short, and my influence over her is waning. Oh, I know I have several more years, but I also know just how quickly those years will pass. By the time she is another eleven years older, she could be in love and thinking of marriage. I know I was at 22.

But why dwell on the future when one can enjoy the present? K is a typical eleven-year-old, with the struggles, attitudes, and dreams associated with many girls her age. She still enjoys her American Girl dolls, but she is also getting more interested in more grown-up activities. Skipping the toys this year, her "want" from us for her birthday was a hugglepod, a little reading nook that hangs from her ceiling. For Christmas, she wants a nail set from Jamberry.

We don't always get along as she searches to find her place in the family and in life as a young lady, but we do enjoy watching corny Christmas specials, baking together, and expressing our creativity through random items found at Hobby Lobby. Her room is a constant disaster, but she will help out with laundry, dishes, and little A without being asked. She will bring me my tea or coffee if it is ready when I am in the middle of something else. She enjoys shopping for others in Operation Christmas Child and the various other giving opportunities that arise during this time of year. She hangs at that half-way mark between childhood and adulthood in so many areas of life.

K dreams of dancing in a leading role in the Nutcracker one day. She is a dedicated dancer, spending hours each week developing her skill and technique. She is hoping to be en pointe by next summer, and she will be attending the Denver Guild for the first time this spring. I love watching her dance, and she frequently brings me to tears as I admire my daughter performing for others so beautifully (she usually performs at nursing homes and retirement centers).

I have a feeling that these next two years will bring major changes in our lives as she continues to grow into a little lady, and I feel privileged to be a part of it.

Miss A's Milestones

This week, A spoke her first sentence: "I want to sit in there." Her vocabulary has exploded since her last well-check, and I can't believe how much she has changed in three months. She is a full-fledged toddler now, and she exemplifies this in several aspects of life now. She can play by herself when so inclined, she will bring me books to read and has definite favorites (she never sat still for very long before), she has started to learn the timeline the kids have been working on in school (and even knows some of the motions), she sometimes prefers to play with the big kids to spending time with Mommy, and the list goes on.

Miss A is such a little cutie, and I find myself repeatedly telling her that I am so happy she came to be in our family. She adds so much to a family that was (and still is) dominated by boys. She loves trains and cars and balls, but she also loves her baby dolls. She loves to be tickled, and she is starting to develop a sense of humor. I thoroughly enjoy hearing her laugh at one thing or another.

As I am writing this, A is reminding me that she loves turning on the vacuum, choosing a new cup every time she gets thirsty (the old one simply will NOT do), and helping change out laundry and unload the dishwasher. She also loves having K paint her nails. She prefers sparkles, and tries to explore K's nail polish supply as frequently as possible. Having her nails painted every day would not be a problem for her if we would only cooperate.

I am loving having another girl, and watching Miss A reach new milestones reminds me of how different boys and girls are. I can't wait to see what else the future holds.

AJ's Ninth Birthday

AJ turned nine this week. All week long, he eyed his growing stash of presents and begged to open just one early. We finally agreed to allow him to open one present on his birthday eve, but this was due to the fact that his little brother had already spoiled the surprised and told him what it was. 

For his birthday dinner, AJ chose to visit a hibachi restaurant over the weekend. It was fun to see S laughing and reacting to the experience of fire and culinary acrobatics, and AJ seemed content as well.

His actual birthday was filled with school, a trip to a trampoline park, and an evening celebration.

On his birthday evening, we ate dinner, devoured cake (he chose Boston cream pie this year), opened presents, and the kids watched Lady and the Tramp. It was much more relaxing than hosting a party of his friends and ensuring everyone was entertained and happy. 

AJ read The Lord of the Rings books this past year, and he was thrilled to receive a Frodo costume, complete with Sting, for his birthday. His other presents included a fluorescent yellow shirt and sweatshirt (which he loves), footed pajamas, an electric toothbrush, a green light-saber, and the fourth book in a series he is reading.  

At the end of the day, I had one happy boy. Success.

On AJ Growing Up

This week, we enjoyed the privilege of celebrating AJ's ninth birthday. Every year I experience the same sentiments on each of my children's birthdays -- disbelief and denial. As I look back over the years, my heart fills with a bittersweet happiness as I remember the joys we have experienced and the hardships we have overcome.

AJ has grown so much this year, not only in body, but also in internal strength and maturity. He really is not my little boy anymore. He still struggles with wanting to complete his schoolwork, but he has shown the ability to focus and complete his assignments when it is necessary to really buckle down (and when properly motivated). He has also demonstrated great spiritual growth and understanding in our discussions at home. He really has a heart for others, and he prays every night that the people in Iraq would stop getting killed. He really floored me when he also prayed that those who are doing the killing would come to know Jesus. He recognized that as a need for everyone involved with no prompting from me.

This year, AJ has also had the privilege to start to go hunting with Daddy. He went on his first pheasant hunt (which is no small feat considering his fear of dogs), and he is spending his birthday weekend elk hunting in the mountains.

My little boy is gone.

Nine years. That is half of eighteen. My years with him at home are half-way over. I know my job is to work myself out of a job. If my kids are living at home in their twenties, I failed in some capacity. But those first nine years passed so quickly.

I love this kid dearly, and I can't wait to see what the next nine years hold. I hope that I will be able to release him when the time comes. But I know I am a sap, and I will only be able to hold that excited smile long enough for him to turn away and walk into adulthood.