"For you, there'll be no more crying,
For you, the sun will be shining,
And I feel that when I'm with you,
It's alright, I know its right
And the songbirds are singing,
Like they know the score,
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before"
All of my babies have been "assigned" songs... special songs that Mommy can sing to them that have special significance. For Kayla, it is "You are so Beautiful" by Joe Crocker and "Somewhere out there" by Linda Rodstant. When she was about two we would sing "You are so beautiful" together... it is only really a few lines long and repeats itself so it was easy for her to sing... later on I gifted her with a carousel horse my dad had given me as a child that played "somewhere out there"... she was so in love with the horse and the song that it was added to our collection.
For TJ, when I was pregnant I had bought a Disney lullaby cd and played it quite a bit, even putting headphones on my belly. After he was born I discovered that if I hummed one of those tunes, he would calm down almost instantly. As a result, his songs became "Baby Mine" and "Dream"... to this day if he is upset or sick he will ask me to sing "Baby Mine".
Jaiden's song is "You are my Shining Star"... he frequently asks to hear it and is thrilled when we listen to it on my iPod in the kitchen while he is helping me cook.
Ava has "songbird" by Fleetwood Mac... it is so sweet and fitting. Rodney has bestowed his own Daddy song onto her.. "Unforgettable" and that song soothes her when we play it for her.
So, here you go, Kayla bear... the answer to your question in my last post. :-)
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Reasons I love being a Mom...
The last few days have been trying and tiresome, so I thought I would focus on some happy things..
1) Patty-baby's deep belly laugh, it could melt anyone's heart
2) Contests on who loves who more
3) "girl time" with Kayla
4) The Incredible Hulk
5) first word's being "mama"
6) children that love me enough that they supported me during the hardest part of laboring with their sister
7) Jaiden's sillyness
8) TJ's affection
9) Kayla's master macchiato making
10) bath time
11) sour milky baby breath
12) "Baby Mine", "you are my shining star", "somewhere out there" and "songbird"
13) pile-on Mommy's bed, aka co-sleeping
14) bread baking with Kayla
15) bed jumping
16) excited springtime smiles
17) sloppy, slobbery kisses
18) sibling loveys
19) fat cheekies
20) dancing in the kitchen
21) afternoons in the park
22) bedtime stories
23) sleepy heads on Mommy's shoulder
24) silky baby skin
25) goodnight kisses
1) Patty-baby's deep belly laugh, it could melt anyone's heart
2) Contests on who loves who more
3) "girl time" with Kayla
4) The Incredible Hulk
5) first word's being "mama"
6) children that love me enough that they supported me during the hardest part of laboring with their sister
7) Jaiden's sillyness
8) TJ's affection
9) Kayla's master macchiato making
10) bath time
11) sour milky baby breath
12) "Baby Mine", "you are my shining star", "somewhere out there" and "songbird"
13) pile-on Mommy's bed, aka co-sleeping
14) bread baking with Kayla
15) bed jumping
16) excited springtime smiles
17) sloppy, slobbery kisses
18) sibling loveys
19) fat cheekies
20) dancing in the kitchen
21) afternoons in the park
22) bedtime stories
23) sleepy heads on Mommy's shoulder
24) silky baby skin
25) goodnight kisses
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Baking babies
Can I vent for a moment here? (oh ya, of course I can... 'tis my blog and no one cares a lick about what I say anyways...)
When I want to bake a batch of peanut butter cookies of which I know are my hubby's favorite, I know a few things are certain- I know what ingredients to include such as peanut butter, flour, sugar, butter, etc. I know what setting to place the oven on and how long to bake those cookies to make them come out absolutely perfect, moist and chewy. Yum!
However... those are cookies, and though I may have to adjust things slightly, say if I am using a different oven or trying out a completely different recipe, otherwise the equation remains the same. Why is it that people assume our babies are like cookies??
Babies are not bake-sale goods, people.
Once upon a time there was this doctor. And like all doctors, he was nosey and decided to graph down when a group of about 500 women spontaneously went into labor. He thus concluded that the average timeframe was 40 weeks. Wow, exciting. What did that mean?? Well, nothing really. I could have a group of ten women in the room and state that the average age of said women is 30, but have none of those women actually be 30. That's the funny thing about averages and assumptions. Going forward, future physicians took this number and ran with it. And here we have our magical number, our baking babies at 350 for 40 weeks, whether or not they may be done.
I frequently hear women make statements such as "I *had* to be induced", "I couldn't go into labor on my own", "Little Davey just wouldn't come out on his own", etc. Let's be honest here, people.. it makes me want to knock them upside their heads. When did it become "normal" to assume that women's bodies won't or can't go into labor on their own? When did it become "normal" to assume that this average that was came up via a small sample of women needs to apply to everyone... that 40 weeks is our magic cookie done time?? (Let's not even get into the discussion about the likelihood of increased possibility of c-section which poses it's own set of risks-increasing the rate of primary c-sections which in itself drives the c-section rate up for subsequent pregnancies with the lack of careproviders supporting VBACs..another subject, another day).
Let me tell you an ancient secret... listen up, as it is pretty profound. Babies come. They really actually do. Whether or not you eat an entire pineapple or dance on your head. Babies come whether you ate that eggplant parmesean and douched it down with basil and oregano. Babies come regardless of the magical date *YOU* circled on the calendar. They come. They really, honestly do. Placentas, as well, do not have a magical expiration date on them. That's right! At 40 weeks or 41 weeks or even 42 weeks they do not spontaneously combust.
Now, let me place a disclaimer on this... this is not to say there are not circumstances where a chemical induction is valid... pre-eclampsia or IUGR, for example... those are some situations where there may be a valid necessity to get the baby out, rather than wait for the timer to go off on it's own. However, this should be our exception.. and definitely not the rule.
Put your timers and calendars away, Mamas... let your babies bake.
When I want to bake a batch of peanut butter cookies of which I know are my hubby's favorite, I know a few things are certain- I know what ingredients to include such as peanut butter, flour, sugar, butter, etc. I know what setting to place the oven on and how long to bake those cookies to make them come out absolutely perfect, moist and chewy. Yum!
However... those are cookies, and though I may have to adjust things slightly, say if I am using a different oven or trying out a completely different recipe, otherwise the equation remains the same. Why is it that people assume our babies are like cookies??
Babies are not bake-sale goods, people.
Once upon a time there was this doctor. And like all doctors, he was nosey and decided to graph down when a group of about 500 women spontaneously went into labor. He thus concluded that the average timeframe was 40 weeks. Wow, exciting. What did that mean?? Well, nothing really. I could have a group of ten women in the room and state that the average age of said women is 30, but have none of those women actually be 30. That's the funny thing about averages and assumptions. Going forward, future physicians took this number and ran with it. And here we have our magical number, our baking babies at 350 for 40 weeks, whether or not they may be done.
I frequently hear women make statements such as "I *had* to be induced", "I couldn't go into labor on my own", "Little Davey just wouldn't come out on his own", etc. Let's be honest here, people.. it makes me want to knock them upside their heads. When did it become "normal" to assume that women's bodies won't or can't go into labor on their own? When did it become "normal" to assume that this average that was came up via a small sample of women needs to apply to everyone... that 40 weeks is our magic cookie done time?? (Let's not even get into the discussion about the likelihood of increased possibility of c-section which poses it's own set of risks-increasing the rate of primary c-sections which in itself drives the c-section rate up for subsequent pregnancies with the lack of careproviders supporting VBACs..another subject, another day).
Let me tell you an ancient secret... listen up, as it is pretty profound. Babies come. They really actually do. Whether or not you eat an entire pineapple or dance on your head. Babies come whether you ate that eggplant parmesean and douched it down with basil and oregano. Babies come regardless of the magical date *YOU* circled on the calendar. They come. They really, honestly do. Placentas, as well, do not have a magical expiration date on them. That's right! At 40 weeks or 41 weeks or even 42 weeks they do not spontaneously combust.
Now, let me place a disclaimer on this... this is not to say there are not circumstances where a chemical induction is valid... pre-eclampsia or IUGR, for example... those are some situations where there may be a valid necessity to get the baby out, rather than wait for the timer to go off on it's own. However, this should be our exception.. and definitely not the rule.
Put your timers and calendars away, Mamas... let your babies bake.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Dedication: The Prequel
My stepbabies:
When my husband and I met he was 11 years older than me, divorced with full custody of his 3 children (ages 3, 7 and 8 at the time). He made no comments to me at any point that when/if we were to marry that he'd like me to act as his children's mother, and I would say I had no pressure to do so. When we married I told the kids they were welcome to call me whatever they would like (as long as it was respectful). So if they wanted to continue to call me "Janelle" then that was totally ok. Within a month's time, I was "Mommy".
This is not to say that I have or had ever replaced their "real" mother. I don't think that could ever be possible, nor did I expect that.
Being a step-parent... well, it's damn hard and I think the only ones who truly understand that are the ones that have played that role. You contend with children that first realize they are not biologically connected to you and who long to have a connection with their biological parent (despite how close you may be)... when you arrive on the scene you are not molding a newborn baby, rather you are thrown into the loop with already molded minds that are used to certain ways, forms of discipline, rules, etc.
I believe that there were times when my stepkids appreciated my presence. Their dad had funny rules that I quickly put an end to. One, was the "no drinking until you finish your food" rule. I had taken B, my stepdaughter, out to lunch one day. While we sat waiting for our food I sipped my iced tea while she eyed her root beer. "B, you know you can drink that right??".. "Daddy doesn't let me before I finish my food". Me *eye roll*: "Uh... well, you know that you can always get a refill if you drink it all". Her eyes lit up... and thus I ended the silly drink rule. Othertimes it was blaringly obvious that B, the only daughter, had not had a woman's presence around in sometime. She was surprised to see that grown women had "hair down there" and didn't know you needed to place a toilet seat cover on the toilet in a public bathroom. When I gave birth to K, she was shocked and confused to see me breastfeed the new baby.
In no way have I been perfect, though.. in the early days I was quick to lose my temper and yell and easily stressed. I have vastly improved over the years to everyone's relief and have almost lost my "sailor mouth" entirely. However, I have always loved those three little hooligan's no matter what.
B, with her sassy-frassy mouth and attitude.. we would frequently bond over "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and our homemade late-night Mexican food creations. She has assisted me the last two times I have given birth, acting as a doula of sorts. Just 15 months ago I had the honor to assist her in ushering in her first baby, a sweet daughter, whom was birthed into my hands while she baptized my bare feet in a rush of amniotic fluid. I have watched B grow from an uncertain, mouthy girl to a beautiful young woman and mother. Now I have a chubby faced granddaughter to watch grow, as well.
Jr.. he is definitely his own creation. He has a passion for knowledge and a big forgiving heart. I think and worry about him daily and anticipate the day when he matures into the responsible young man that I know is waiting inside of him. These days he is into music and has found a skill for playing the guitar. He recently called up proudly to annouce he could play "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, knowing that is one of my favorite groups and songs.
J.. my baby boy. My first baby boy, that is. When he was 4 he spent the night at my house one night and ended up sick, throwing up all over my living room floor. I did what my mother would have done for me.. bathed him and put him into my bed (much to his father's disappointment for the night ahead...). As we cuddled up together he said to me, "Danelle??" (he could never say the Ja).. "Me: "Yes, baby?", J: "Are you going to marry my daddy??", Me: "I hope so".. J: "Good, I have always wanted a Mommy". *insert aaaaaawwwwws and tears here* Despite the fact he is an ownry, arrogant, pigheaded and egotistical almost 16 year old (that is putting it lightly.. the boy is definitely full of himself!!) he still holds a special place in my heart and reminds me of that sweet little guy who would stroke my hair while asking me to marry him. Today he loves singing and is involved in a myriad of choir activities along with being an excellent football player. I know the future holds great things in store for him.
So, there we go... my kiddos. All 7 of them. Motherhood and life holds many challenges and obstacles, but they all definitely make it worthwhile.
When my husband and I met he was 11 years older than me, divorced with full custody of his 3 children (ages 3, 7 and 8 at the time). He made no comments to me at any point that when/if we were to marry that he'd like me to act as his children's mother, and I would say I had no pressure to do so. When we married I told the kids they were welcome to call me whatever they would like (as long as it was respectful). So if they wanted to continue to call me "Janelle" then that was totally ok. Within a month's time, I was "Mommy".
This is not to say that I have or had ever replaced their "real" mother. I don't think that could ever be possible, nor did I expect that.
Being a step-parent... well, it's damn hard and I think the only ones who truly understand that are the ones that have played that role. You contend with children that first realize they are not biologically connected to you and who long to have a connection with their biological parent (despite how close you may be)... when you arrive on the scene you are not molding a newborn baby, rather you are thrown into the loop with already molded minds that are used to certain ways, forms of discipline, rules, etc.
I believe that there were times when my stepkids appreciated my presence. Their dad had funny rules that I quickly put an end to. One, was the "no drinking until you finish your food" rule. I had taken B, my stepdaughter, out to lunch one day. While we sat waiting for our food I sipped my iced tea while she eyed her root beer. "B, you know you can drink that right??".. "Daddy doesn't let me before I finish my food". Me *eye roll*: "Uh... well, you know that you can always get a refill if you drink it all". Her eyes lit up... and thus I ended the silly drink rule. Othertimes it was blaringly obvious that B, the only daughter, had not had a woman's presence around in sometime. She was surprised to see that grown women had "hair down there" and didn't know you needed to place a toilet seat cover on the toilet in a public bathroom. When I gave birth to K, she was shocked and confused to see me breastfeed the new baby.
In no way have I been perfect, though.. in the early days I was quick to lose my temper and yell and easily stressed. I have vastly improved over the years to everyone's relief and have almost lost my "sailor mouth" entirely. However, I have always loved those three little hooligan's no matter what.
B, with her sassy-frassy mouth and attitude.. we would frequently bond over "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and our homemade late-night Mexican food creations. She has assisted me the last two times I have given birth, acting as a doula of sorts. Just 15 months ago I had the honor to assist her in ushering in her first baby, a sweet daughter, whom was birthed into my hands while she baptized my bare feet in a rush of amniotic fluid. I have watched B grow from an uncertain, mouthy girl to a beautiful young woman and mother. Now I have a chubby faced granddaughter to watch grow, as well.
Jr.. he is definitely his own creation. He has a passion for knowledge and a big forgiving heart. I think and worry about him daily and anticipate the day when he matures into the responsible young man that I know is waiting inside of him. These days he is into music and has found a skill for playing the guitar. He recently called up proudly to annouce he could play "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac, knowing that is one of my favorite groups and songs.
J.. my baby boy. My first baby boy, that is. When he was 4 he spent the night at my house one night and ended up sick, throwing up all over my living room floor. I did what my mother would have done for me.. bathed him and put him into my bed (much to his father's disappointment for the night ahead...). As we cuddled up together he said to me, "Danelle??" (he could never say the Ja).. "Me: "Yes, baby?", J: "Are you going to marry my daddy??", Me: "I hope so".. J: "Good, I have always wanted a Mommy". *insert aaaaaawwwwws and tears here* Despite the fact he is an ownry, arrogant, pigheaded and egotistical almost 16 year old (that is putting it lightly.. the boy is definitely full of himself!!) he still holds a special place in my heart and reminds me of that sweet little guy who would stroke my hair while asking me to marry him. Today he loves singing and is involved in a myriad of choir activities along with being an excellent football player. I know the future holds great things in store for him.
So, there we go... my kiddos. All 7 of them. Motherhood and life holds many challenges and obstacles, but they all definitely make it worthwhile.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Dedication, Part 4
Ava~
Or otherwise affectionately known as "patty-baby".
Ava is my fourth baby... my homebirthed baby. She was born at home on a relatively cool July evening. That morning I was woken early with pressure waves that continued on well into the evening before finally producing my 9 lb 13 oz ball of sweetness 18 hours later. Born just 13 minutes shy of my grandmother's 75th birthday, patty-baby was welcomed into this world straight into her Daddy's hands. The room was filled only with people who loved her.
Ava was named a good two years before she was born. Though I seriously doubted that I would have another baby, let alone another girl, one day K and I were discussing baby girl names. "Ava" somehow came up, though K liked "Ava Rose" whereas I said if I had another girl I would like her to have my middle name. Where did "Patty" come from? Well, being my biggest baby I started calling her fatty patty. (I mean, seriously, she could fit into her newborn clothes for about 5 minutes and I couldn't even use the newborn cloth diapers I had bought her!). Fatty Patty eventually changed and now she is called anything from patty-baby to pattycakes to pretty patty or some days just plain patty.
Nowadays we have a very active 9 month old. She is constantly into anything and everything. She crawls like a maniac, pulls herself up on almost anything she can... even the wall! She has discovered her shadow on the wall and we laugh as it looks like she is trying to kiss it. She can say "Mama" to my utter delight. Best of all, she has a smile that will melt any heart. Her smile is amazing... she looks so happy and innocent and when she laughs it comes from deep down in her belly.
Our pretty, pretty Patty... the last chapter in our family, now complete.
Or otherwise affectionately known as "patty-baby".
Ava is my fourth baby... my homebirthed baby. She was born at home on a relatively cool July evening. That morning I was woken early with pressure waves that continued on well into the evening before finally producing my 9 lb 13 oz ball of sweetness 18 hours later. Born just 13 minutes shy of my grandmother's 75th birthday, patty-baby was welcomed into this world straight into her Daddy's hands. The room was filled only with people who loved her.
Ava was named a good two years before she was born. Though I seriously doubted that I would have another baby, let alone another girl, one day K and I were discussing baby girl names. "Ava" somehow came up, though K liked "Ava Rose" whereas I said if I had another girl I would like her to have my middle name. Where did "Patty" come from? Well, being my biggest baby I started calling her fatty patty. (I mean, seriously, she could fit into her newborn clothes for about 5 minutes and I couldn't even use the newborn cloth diapers I had bought her!). Fatty Patty eventually changed and now she is called anything from patty-baby to pattycakes to pretty patty or some days just plain patty.
Nowadays we have a very active 9 month old. She is constantly into anything and everything. She crawls like a maniac, pulls herself up on almost anything she can... even the wall! She has discovered her shadow on the wall and we laugh as it looks like she is trying to kiss it. She can say "Mama" to my utter delight. Best of all, she has a smile that will melt any heart. Her smile is amazing... she looks so happy and innocent and when she laughs it comes from deep down in her belly.
Our pretty, pretty Patty... the last chapter in our family, now complete.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Dedication, part 3
The Incredible Hulk:
Aka Jaiden. My beautiful 4 year old boy. Jaiden was our surprise baby. When I found out I was pregnant with him I had just been accepted into midwifery school. TJ was just shy of 2 years old and still nursing, and the last thing we'd expected was another baby. Within the first week I ended up in the ER with extreme pain on my left side. Having quite a history of endometriosis, most especially that affected my left side, I was not surprised when it was announced to me that my pregnancy was ectopic. Or rather they assumed it was. No baby could be seen on the ultrasound though they assumed by my beta HCG levels they should have been able to see something, and there was fluid around my left ovary, a visible corpus luteum, and fluid around my uterus. I was admitted into the hospital. That morning the on-call dr left me know that the radiologist could see a small 5 mm area where the lining was thicker, that it may be the baby however they were not certain. She recommended dissolving the pregnancy via methotrexate. We, however, were not convinced. If there was a small chance our baby was viable, we would rather not risk it. We decided to go on a "watch" and return for testing. She adamently disagreed with us... 5 ultrasounds later a gestational sac could be seen.. in my uterus, safe and sound. We were elated, and thus began our Jaiden.
Jaiden was born on his due date at a freestanding birth center with a midwife. He was born in the tub and caught into Mommy's hands. When he was born he did not cry, merely he pouted his lower lip in protest. Despite his posterior birth, he was born easily after 7 1/2 hours of labor.
Nowadays he is a *very* active 4 year old. He recently has decided he is The Hulk. Yes. The Incredible Hulk. He runs around the house, half naked growling "Don't Make ME ANGRY!!!!". The flexes his "muscles" and Grrrrr's and Arrrgh's and jumps off of furniture.. he has had a few nasty Hulk injuries, but such is the life of a superhero, I suppose. His loves include superhero cartoons, playing Anarchy with his daddy on-line, fruits and veggies of all sorts and yogurt.
When not being the Hulk he loves to say "Mommy, tell me I'm your kitty..", And despite the need to further put off midwifery school, a long time dream of mine, I would not change it for the world. This sweet, little ball of craziness makes it all worth it.
Aka Jaiden. My beautiful 4 year old boy. Jaiden was our surprise baby. When I found out I was pregnant with him I had just been accepted into midwifery school. TJ was just shy of 2 years old and still nursing, and the last thing we'd expected was another baby. Within the first week I ended up in the ER with extreme pain on my left side. Having quite a history of endometriosis, most especially that affected my left side, I was not surprised when it was announced to me that my pregnancy was ectopic. Or rather they assumed it was. No baby could be seen on the ultrasound though they assumed by my beta HCG levels they should have been able to see something, and there was fluid around my left ovary, a visible corpus luteum, and fluid around my uterus. I was admitted into the hospital. That morning the on-call dr left me know that the radiologist could see a small 5 mm area where the lining was thicker, that it may be the baby however they were not certain. She recommended dissolving the pregnancy via methotrexate. We, however, were not convinced. If there was a small chance our baby was viable, we would rather not risk it. We decided to go on a "watch" and return for testing. She adamently disagreed with us... 5 ultrasounds later a gestational sac could be seen.. in my uterus, safe and sound. We were elated, and thus began our Jaiden.
Jaiden was born on his due date at a freestanding birth center with a midwife. He was born in the tub and caught into Mommy's hands. When he was born he did not cry, merely he pouted his lower lip in protest. Despite his posterior birth, he was born easily after 7 1/2 hours of labor.
Nowadays he is a *very* active 4 year old. He recently has decided he is The Hulk. Yes. The Incredible Hulk. He runs around the house, half naked growling "Don't Make ME ANGRY!!!!". The flexes his "muscles" and Grrrrr's and Arrrgh's and jumps off of furniture.. he has had a few nasty Hulk injuries, but such is the life of a superhero, I suppose. His loves include superhero cartoons, playing Anarchy with his daddy on-line, fruits and veggies of all sorts and yogurt.
When not being the Hulk he loves to say "Mommy, tell me I'm your kitty..", And despite the need to further put off midwifery school, a long time dream of mine, I would not change it for the world. This sweet, little ball of craziness makes it all worth it.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Dedication, Part 2
My big headed 6 year old boy...
Tj was born on a quiet Sunday in a freestanding birth center... his birth was attended only by my husband and our midwives. That day it felt as if the entire world had stopped in arrival for our sweet baby. He was named Thomas for my grandfather who passed away when I was young. I remember once after he was born having a dream that I was showing TJ to my Morfar.. I know he would have been proud of his namesake.
As a baby, T was always fairly laid back. He was a big chunky baby with large brown eyes. At 6 mos old old he weighed over 20 lbs... he was content to sit back and wasn't in a rush to walk, saving that until he was 14 months old. That set the stage for what kind of boy he would be.
Today, he is still pretty laid back... sometimes this manifests itself in "laziness". We will say, "TJ pick up your shoes", to which he will reply " Why do I have to do EVERYTHING?!?!". Dramatic, much? He is very sensitive and is the type of child who thrives on physical contact, always wanting a hug or to lie by Mommy and rub my feet. When I had my homebirth with his sister, TJ spent time at my feet during transition doing just that.... gently stroking the tops of my feet, quietly soothing and relaxing me.
He has a love of Spongebob Square Pants, something I will never, ever understand. He loves to be read to at night before bed, though without fail when it comes to actual bedtime we often experience tantrums of all sorts. He is discovering helping Mommy cook in the kitchen, which fills him with enormous pride when he exclaims to the family about how HE made the garlic bread. Funny enough, one of his favorite things to wear is "army clothes".. meaning anything with camouflage on it. At the age of 2 my Mom had bought him a pair of camo sweatpants which he fell in love with. We haven't been able to shake it since.
Next month he turns 7 years old... it is unbelievable how time flies by. Soon he will more interested in talking to girls than snuggling up with Mommy.. or will want to take off to the movie theater, rather than stay home eating "munchies" while watching a video. Where does the time go??
Tj was born on a quiet Sunday in a freestanding birth center... his birth was attended only by my husband and our midwives. That day it felt as if the entire world had stopped in arrival for our sweet baby. He was named Thomas for my grandfather who passed away when I was young. I remember once after he was born having a dream that I was showing TJ to my Morfar.. I know he would have been proud of his namesake.
As a baby, T was always fairly laid back. He was a big chunky baby with large brown eyes. At 6 mos old old he weighed over 20 lbs... he was content to sit back and wasn't in a rush to walk, saving that until he was 14 months old. That set the stage for what kind of boy he would be.
Today, he is still pretty laid back... sometimes this manifests itself in "laziness". We will say, "TJ pick up your shoes", to which he will reply " Why do I have to do EVERYTHING?!?!". Dramatic, much? He is very sensitive and is the type of child who thrives on physical contact, always wanting a hug or to lie by Mommy and rub my feet. When I had my homebirth with his sister, TJ spent time at my feet during transition doing just that.... gently stroking the tops of my feet, quietly soothing and relaxing me.
He has a love of Spongebob Square Pants, something I will never, ever understand. He loves to be read to at night before bed, though without fail when it comes to actual bedtime we often experience tantrums of all sorts. He is discovering helping Mommy cook in the kitchen, which fills him with enormous pride when he exclaims to the family about how HE made the garlic bread. Funny enough, one of his favorite things to wear is "army clothes".. meaning anything with camouflage on it. At the age of 2 my Mom had bought him a pair of camo sweatpants which he fell in love with. We haven't been able to shake it since.
Next month he turns 7 years old... it is unbelievable how time flies by. Soon he will more interested in talking to girls than snuggling up with Mommy.. or will want to take off to the movie theater, rather than stay home eating "munchies" while watching a video. Where does the time go??
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Dedication, part 1
So, yesterday while blogging my 6 year old exclaims, "I want you to write about ME, Mommy!" to which the others enthusiastically chimed in. Here we are... a series dedicated to the little ones in my life who have stolen my heart.
Kayla:
My first baby. How else can you describe the first child you gave birth to? Absolutely amazing. I was a few months shy of 21 when K was born. I remember her being placed onto my belly and her gazing up at me with eyes that were the same shape as mine. She took my breath away! It has been truly amazing to watch her grow... from the skinny little baby who loved to dance around and shake her bootie, to the chunkier toddler who would "ballet dance" to classical music in her Snow White tu-tu, to the budding child who discovered a love for art and reading. Now, at the age of 10 1/2 I am finding more woman than child in her, both physically and mentally. She is growing at a rate faster than my heart can handle.
Today she is in 4th grade and just recently has started her own blog (see: http://kayla-fourthgradetales.blogspot.com/ ). She loves to read and draw. She has an extraordinary eye for detail. She is sassy and bossy, but amazingly loving and compassionate. Looking into her dark, almond shaped eyes with her red-highlighted, unruly chestnut hair I can begin to see traces of the woman she is growing into, and someday will be. Some days I want to hold her back... tell her to slow down, be my sweet little girl still, the baby I cradled at my breast. Other days I am so excited to watch her learn and grow and am ecstatic and curious to discover the woman waiting to bud inside of her.
Slow down, baby, Mama's heart can't quite take it yet...
Kayla:
My first baby. How else can you describe the first child you gave birth to? Absolutely amazing. I was a few months shy of 21 when K was born. I remember her being placed onto my belly and her gazing up at me with eyes that were the same shape as mine. She took my breath away! It has been truly amazing to watch her grow... from the skinny little baby who loved to dance around and shake her bootie, to the chunkier toddler who would "ballet dance" to classical music in her Snow White tu-tu, to the budding child who discovered a love for art and reading. Now, at the age of 10 1/2 I am finding more woman than child in her, both physically and mentally. She is growing at a rate faster than my heart can handle.
Today she is in 4th grade and just recently has started her own blog (see: http://kayla-fourthgradetales.blogspot.com/ ). She loves to read and draw. She has an extraordinary eye for detail. She is sassy and bossy, but amazingly loving and compassionate. Looking into her dark, almond shaped eyes with her red-highlighted, unruly chestnut hair I can begin to see traces of the woman she is growing into, and someday will be. Some days I want to hold her back... tell her to slow down, be my sweet little girl still, the baby I cradled at my breast. Other days I am so excited to watch her learn and grow and am ecstatic and curious to discover the woman waiting to bud inside of her.
Slow down, baby, Mama's heart can't quite take it yet...
Monday, April 6, 2009
Springtime!
Living in the Pac NW, you learn to take advantage of the true and rare Spring-like days we get here. When the rain suddenly decides to take a break, allowing the sun to kiss the sky while revealing tiny pink and white blossoms decorating trees. This weekend happened to be one of these days! No rain, sun shining bright in the sky and temperatures rising to low 60's. Perfect. I find that nothing boosts my mood better than a relaxing moment in the sun. It makes me reflect back on the lazy pre-marriage days of taking a jaunt down to the beach with my dear friend, simply so we could nap in the sun. Those were the days..
Anyways, back to the present-- yesterday I took the kids to the park where they played in the sun and explored the nearby creek, followed by a trip to the ice cream store. Today it was a picnic in the backyard along with the blowing of bubbles and playing in the grass and on the swing. These moments are truly precious...they are moments when time slows, children get along and brighten the day further with excited smiles and jubilant laughter. Where patty-baby can feel grass on her chubby little toes for the first time.
Even better.. everyone comes inside, sun weary and exhausted collapsing into a peaceful nap, leaving Mom with a few moments to reflect on how lucky she is to have such a beautiful family.
Anyways, back to the present-- yesterday I took the kids to the park where they played in the sun and explored the nearby creek, followed by a trip to the ice cream store. Today it was a picnic in the backyard along with the blowing of bubbles and playing in the grass and on the swing. These moments are truly precious...they are moments when time slows, children get along and brighten the day further with excited smiles and jubilant laughter. Where patty-baby can feel grass on her chubby little toes for the first time.
Even better.. everyone comes inside, sun weary and exhausted collapsing into a peaceful nap, leaving Mom with a few moments to reflect on how lucky she is to have such a beautiful family.
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