Anyway, that ban inspired some creativity and he made his own. And I think he did pretty well.
May 31, 2012
Makeshift ipad
Back in April, Jack was banned from the ipad for a few days . . . I don't even remember why. If I had to guess, he and his brother were fighting over it.
Anyway, that ban inspired some creativity and he made his own. And I think he did pretty well.
Anyway, that ban inspired some creativity and he made his own. And I think he did pretty well.
May 28, 2012
Preschool graduation
Jack's last day of preschool. Please excuse the landscaping fail.
Compare to his first day of preschool 2 years earlier:
And of course . . . his typical preschool antics.
May 20, 2012
Miscellaneous . . .
This post is totally random . . . and honestly, I think I might have done a post a lot like this before. After 5 1/2 years of blogging, I'm bound to get repetitive.
When I was nursing Claire the other day, I was thinking about how I'll always associate certain television shows with each of my children. There were particular things that I watched a lot of through their first few months, mainly during the time I spent nursing them.
Jack was born during the summer, which meant network re-runs. However, we still had cable back then, so I watched a lot of home improvement shows. Flip That House, Designed to Sell, etc. Oh, and Last Comic Standing. Also, VH1's Best Week Ever . . . I loved that show. I remember watching 16 and pregnant, too, and thinking about how lucky Jack was to have me.
After having a child during re-runs, I decided that planning to have Ben during network sweeps was the best decision*, so we had him in September. Glee came out that year, so I watched a lot of that show. Of course, I had a toddler at that point, so I spent the overnight nursing sessions working through my tivo lineup. I also watched all of the Grey's Anatomy seasons that had aired up to that point.
With Claire, I watched all of Downton Abbey and Madmen. Because of this, ]I fear she's developing a British accent and a smoker's cough.
I'll also associate certain foods with each of them. When I was pregnant with Jack, I couldn't get enough of McDonald's french fries. With Ben, Fazoli's cookies were my favorite. And with Claire . . . pop tarts and Ghiradelli chocolates.
Random, I know. But as they're getting older and I'm forgetting these things and I need to get them down!
*Kidding, kidding. We didn't really plan to have Ben during network sweeps.
When I was nursing Claire the other day, I was thinking about how I'll always associate certain television shows with each of my children. There were particular things that I watched a lot of through their first few months, mainly during the time I spent nursing them.
Jack was born during the summer, which meant network re-runs. However, we still had cable back then, so I watched a lot of home improvement shows. Flip That House, Designed to Sell, etc. Oh, and Last Comic Standing. Also, VH1's Best Week Ever . . . I loved that show. I remember watching 16 and pregnant, too, and thinking about how lucky Jack was to have me.
After having a child during re-runs, I decided that planning to have Ben during network sweeps was the best decision*, so we had him in September. Glee came out that year, so I watched a lot of that show. Of course, I had a toddler at that point, so I spent the overnight nursing sessions working through my tivo lineup. I also watched all of the Grey's Anatomy seasons that had aired up to that point.
With Claire, I watched all of Downton Abbey and Madmen. Because of this, ]I fear she's developing a British accent and a smoker's cough.
I'll also associate certain foods with each of them. When I was pregnant with Jack, I couldn't get enough of McDonald's french fries. With Ben, Fazoli's cookies were my favorite. And with Claire . . . pop tarts and Ghiradelli chocolates.
Random, I know. But as they're getting older and I'm forgetting these things and I need to get them down!
*Kidding, kidding. We didn't really plan to have Ben during network sweeps.
May 16, 2012
Virginia Vacation
Remember that vacation we took? To Williamsburg, Virginia? Back in October? I'm just now getting around to posting photos.
I'm awesome.
See more photos here.
I'm awesome.
See more photos here.
May 8, 2012
Dear Claire, Month 4
Dear Claire,
Do you know how much we love you? I sometimes sit and look at you and wonder if there's any possible way you can know. I tell you that all the time and you just smile and gurgle. Or make a growling noise . . . you make growling noises a lot, too. You are a delight.
It's not just your dad and I. Your brothers love you, too. And you love them. Jack has been successful at making you laugh more times than anyone else. He makes crazy noises and does funny dances. The other night, he just looked at you and you laughed. You think he's pretty funny. And Ben . . . he loves you, too. He'll lay down with you and talk to you almost every time you're playing on the floor. Every morning, he wants a "hug and tiss" from you before he eats his breakfast. He asks all the time if he can "tuddle" with you. You smile so big when you see him. You're lucky to have your big brothers.
There will come a day when you test your boundaries. You'll disobey. You'll talk back. We'll have to discipline you. There will be time outs. It's so hard to imagine right now, but I know it's coming. I've done this before. Even so, we'll still love you as much as we do right now. Actually, it's because of how much we love you that we'll discipline you.
When I think about how much we love you, my thoughts naturally drift to how much God loves us. Our love is only a fraction of his love for you. Our delight in you is only a shadow of the delight He takes in you. Do you know how much God loves you?
You're growing and changing every day. Rolling over. Laughing. Sitting up. You're doing fun things and you're in a fun stage. I could write a book on that, but I'd rather just let you know how loved you are.
Love,
Mama
Do you know how much we love you? I sometimes sit and look at you and wonder if there's any possible way you can know. I tell you that all the time and you just smile and gurgle. Or make a growling noise . . . you make growling noises a lot, too. You are a delight.
It's not just your dad and I. Your brothers love you, too. And you love them. Jack has been successful at making you laugh more times than anyone else. He makes crazy noises and does funny dances. The other night, he just looked at you and you laughed. You think he's pretty funny. And Ben . . . he loves you, too. He'll lay down with you and talk to you almost every time you're playing on the floor. Every morning, he wants a "hug and tiss" from you before he eats his breakfast. He asks all the time if he can "tuddle" with you. You smile so big when you see him. You're lucky to have your big brothers.
There will come a day when you test your boundaries. You'll disobey. You'll talk back. We'll have to discipline you. There will be time outs. It's so hard to imagine right now, but I know it's coming. I've done this before. Even so, we'll still love you as much as we do right now. Actually, it's because of how much we love you that we'll discipline you.
When I think about how much we love you, my thoughts naturally drift to how much God loves us. Our love is only a fraction of his love for you. Our delight in you is only a shadow of the delight He takes in you. Do you know how much God loves you?
You're growing and changing every day. Rolling over. Laughing. Sitting up. You're doing fun things and you're in a fun stage. I could write a book on that, but I'd rather just let you know how loved you are.
Love,
Mama
May 3, 2012
Claire at 4 months old
At 4 months old, Claire . . .
. . . loves her mama. She just stares at me and I stare back. It's lovely.
. . . weighs 16 lbs, 10 oz. To us, she's still so little . . . about 3 pounds lighter than her brothers were.
. . . rolls both ways.
. . . is rarely where we leave her when we put her down to play. She rolls or maneuvers herself across the playmat nicely.
. . . can sit only for a a few seconds unsupported before toppling over.
. . . makes bath time difficult by trying to lunge out of the bathtub, toward the faucet.
. . . loves laying on the changing table and chatting.
. . . thinks her dad is hi-larious.
. . . sleeps 11 hours at night. Napping is hit or miss.
. . . is 26 inches long. That's bout 2 inches shorter than her brothers were.
. . . gnaws on her fingers like they're candy.
. . . loves Sophie the giraffe and her playmat.
. . . wears mostly 6 month and 6 - 9 month clothing.
. . . makes a funny growling noise when she hears her brothers playing "Jungle Book."
. . . has a really girly high pitched squeal that makes us laugh.
. . . curls her tongue up over her lip when she's excited or really concentrating.
May 2, 2012
Dear jack, Month 59
Dear Jack,
A few weeks ago, I was telling you something and you were arguing with me. Actually, that happens almost every day. But on this particular day, I finally said, "OK, Jack. Whatever you say." And you responded, "See. I told you so." In that moment, I caught a glimpse of what life with you as a teenager might be like.
You argue with us over everything. Even things that you know nothing about. It's like there's something inside of you programmed to challenge everything we say. You also have trouble accepting that you might be wrong about anything. And, if you know something, you want to be sure everyone knows that you know it.
What does all of this mean? It means that you and I are a lot a like. You are your mother's child. For better and for worse.
So, from one know it all to another . . . here are a few things that might be helpful:
1. You are not always right. You are very, very smart. You're right quite a bit of the time . . . but not always. But even when you are right, sometimes it's okay to not insist upon it. It's okay to let someone else be right. It's good for you. It's good for them. Sometimes, it saves relationships. Save the insistence on being right for the really important stuff.
2. Save arguments for when it really matters. If you argue over everything, people will just think that's how you are and never really listen to you. If you save your arguments for the really important things, people might be more receptive.
3. Care about people more than you do about facts. Ask yourself, "What will be the most loving way to act toward this person? With the facts? Perhaps on some occasions. But often, they just need encouragement. So what if your brother's coloring isn't inside the lines? Perhaps he just needs to hear that you like the colors he decided to use. Or who cares if someone referred to The Flash as Spiderman? Maybe she just wants someone to play with.
I totally understand the compulsions that make these things hard. And I know . . . you're not even 5 yet. Some of these things come with time. But I know people who are my age and older and haven't outgrown these things. They're no fun to be around. I love you too much to let you become one of those people.
I love you no matter what.
Love,
Mom
A few weeks ago, I was telling you something and you were arguing with me. Actually, that happens almost every day. But on this particular day, I finally said, "OK, Jack. Whatever you say." And you responded, "See. I told you so." In that moment, I caught a glimpse of what life with you as a teenager might be like.
You argue with us over everything. Even things that you know nothing about. It's like there's something inside of you programmed to challenge everything we say. You also have trouble accepting that you might be wrong about anything. And, if you know something, you want to be sure everyone knows that you know it.
What does all of this mean? It means that you and I are a lot a like. You are your mother's child. For better and for worse.
So, from one know it all to another . . . here are a few things that might be helpful:
1. You are not always right. You are very, very smart. You're right quite a bit of the time . . . but not always. But even when you are right, sometimes it's okay to not insist upon it. It's okay to let someone else be right. It's good for you. It's good for them. Sometimes, it saves relationships. Save the insistence on being right for the really important stuff.
2. Save arguments for when it really matters. If you argue over everything, people will just think that's how you are and never really listen to you. If you save your arguments for the really important things, people might be more receptive.
3. Care about people more than you do about facts. Ask yourself, "What will be the most loving way to act toward this person? With the facts? Perhaps on some occasions. But often, they just need encouragement. So what if your brother's coloring isn't inside the lines? Perhaps he just needs to hear that you like the colors he decided to use. Or who cares if someone referred to The Flash as Spiderman? Maybe she just wants someone to play with.
I totally understand the compulsions that make these things hard. And I know . . . you're not even 5 yet. Some of these things come with time. But I know people who are my age and older and haven't outgrown these things. They're no fun to be around. I love you too much to let you become one of those people.
I love you no matter what.
Love,
Mom
May 1, 2012
Dear Ben, Month 31
Dear Bennett,
I love listening to you talk. You are so careful and deliberate about everything that you say. We laugh quite a bit at what comes out of your mouth.
One of your favorite words to throw around this month is "also". It's one of my favorites, too, because you try to use it to just slide something in there as if it won't be noticed. For instance, "Mama, I go play outside. Also, you come push me on the swings." Or even, "I have a snack. Also, you get the cookies for me."
Over the weekend, you walked up behind me and gave me a big hug, slyly wiping your face across the back of my shirt. I asked you if you just wiped your nose on me and you replied, "NOOOO! Also, yes."
Nice try.
Now that you have a rapidly expanding vocabulary, you've become quite good at defending yourself against your brother. And pushing his buttons. Your Dad and I wondered why you guys have been fighting so much more this month than ever before, and the more we thought about it, the more we realized that the fights always had to do with 1) You not giving in to everything Jack demands of you or 2) You saying or doing something that you KNOW will push him over the edge. I feel a little bit like a referee.
At the same time, it's really helped to strengthen your relationship with your brother. You guys laugh together so much. You build things and make up stories about what you've built. You play games. You really look up to him and you two are becoming such good friends.
Starting in June, you guys will spend more time away from each other than ever before. It breaks my heart a little bit, and I think you might have a hard time with it, too. But I also think you two might appreciate each other more with a little bit of separation. It will get you ready for the fall when you start preschool and have to make new friends.
PRESCHOOL! I can't even talk about it. We'll save that for another letter.
I love you Ben. Also, I think you're pretty cute.
Love,
Mama
I love listening to you talk. You are so careful and deliberate about everything that you say. We laugh quite a bit at what comes out of your mouth.
One of your favorite words to throw around this month is "also". It's one of my favorites, too, because you try to use it to just slide something in there as if it won't be noticed. For instance, "Mama, I go play outside. Also, you come push me on the swings." Or even, "I have a snack. Also, you get the cookies for me."
Over the weekend, you walked up behind me and gave me a big hug, slyly wiping your face across the back of my shirt. I asked you if you just wiped your nose on me and you replied, "NOOOO! Also, yes."
Nice try.
Now that you have a rapidly expanding vocabulary, you've become quite good at defending yourself against your brother. And pushing his buttons. Your Dad and I wondered why you guys have been fighting so much more this month than ever before, and the more we thought about it, the more we realized that the fights always had to do with 1) You not giving in to everything Jack demands of you or 2) You saying or doing something that you KNOW will push him over the edge. I feel a little bit like a referee.
At the same time, it's really helped to strengthen your relationship with your brother. You guys laugh together so much. You build things and make up stories about what you've built. You play games. You really look up to him and you two are becoming such good friends.
Starting in June, you guys will spend more time away from each other than ever before. It breaks my heart a little bit, and I think you might have a hard time with it, too. But I also think you two might appreciate each other more with a little bit of separation. It will get you ready for the fall when you start preschool and have to make new friends.
PRESCHOOL! I can't even talk about it. We'll save that for another letter.
I love you Ben. Also, I think you're pretty cute.
Love,
Mama
April 26, 2012
Easter clothes
This was the best they could give me . . . and while it's not the best picture, I can't help but love it.
April 18, 2012
April 17, 2012
Pop-tart Art
The boys were "eating" their pop-tarts into shapes and then making the other guess what they were. Totally something my sister and I would have done.
Only we would have done it with fig newtons. My mom didn't let us have pop-tarts very often.
April 15, 2012
How Hobart joined our family
Here's a story from back in January that I forgot to share . . .
The kids' well visits to the doctor have always been some of my favorite days . . . especially Claire's. Kyle and I always go together and normally have a babysitter for the boys. It's the closest thing to a date we get these days. Their doctor's office is 45 minutes away in Chelsea so we get at least 1 1/2 hours to just talk and sometimes we even stop for breakfast. It's glorious.
At Claire's 2-week check up, we made her 1 month appointment and I was counting down the days until January 26. On the night before I was giddy with excitement. I know it sounds crazy, but I was 4-weeks postpartum and had been stuck in the house with 3 kids, one of whom was a newborn, for the entire time.
That night was rough with Claire, so that morning, I let Kyle sleep and I was up with all three. I thought about waking him up when I sat down to nurse Claire, but figured that the boys were playing quietly, so I wouldn't bother him.
About an hour later, I was trying to get the boys dressed and Jack said, "I have something in my nose!" He'd been congested for a day or two, so I got some tissue and told him to just keep blowing until it all came out.
He blew his nose a few times and then started freaking. out. So I sent him to his room, thinking he was just being dramatic. After hearing him in there still crying five minutes later, I went in and said, "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Not my finest parenting moment.
And he replied, "I TOLD YOU I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY NOSE."
Wait, what now?
I thought he was referring to snot. You know . . . something in his nose causing congestion. I was so, so wrong.
"I put a lego in my nose."
Awesome.
Let me back up and say that a week earlier, Ben had put a peanut in his nose. All the way up there. But with enough blowing and coaxing we finally got him to sneeze it out.
Side note: When I later asked Jack WHY he put a lego up his nose, he replied, "Because I was trying to smell it. It did not smell good."
I tried to look up Jack's nose, but at this point he was freaking out so much I had to call for Kyle. We had him blow and sneeze and did everything we could. We finally decided he needed to visit the ER.
This is about the time I started throwing my temper tantrum. The disappointment over missing our "date" was overwhelming. I just sat down and cried. Ridiculous, I know . . . but well, postpartum hormones don't always allow rational thought to prevail.
Kyle headed to the ER in Chelsea with Jack while I waited for the babysitter to come to stay with Ben. Then I left . . . alone . . . to take Claire to her check-up. Which was also in Chelsea. Two cars making the 45 minute drive separately. Not quite the "morning date" I had hoped for.
They tried to get the lego out, but the 5 people holding Jack down couldn't keep him still enough. So, they decided anesthesia was necessary. I'm so glad I wasn't there . . . I probably would have lost it at that point.
While they were waiting for the anesthesia, the nurse kept working with Jack, trying to get him to sneeze and blow it out. Jack had been crying so hard that his nose was running and she thought that might start to loosen things up.
She was right! Just before they were going to administer the anesthesia he blew his nose real hard and . . . viola! There it was. I received this photo while I was at Claire's check up with her:
Can you see the lego? No? That's because it's smaller than any toy labeled "Ages 3 and older" should be. Needless to say, we "lost" that lego set soon after this incident.
During all of the commotion, one of the nurses brought Jack a teddy bear, thinking it might bring him comfort. It did not. But it did provide a great show and tell item for the following week, during which Jack gave his speech on how to get a free teddy bear.
Aren't you glad your child isn't in his preschool class?
The kids' well visits to the doctor have always been some of my favorite days . . . especially Claire's. Kyle and I always go together and normally have a babysitter for the boys. It's the closest thing to a date we get these days. Their doctor's office is 45 minutes away in Chelsea so we get at least 1 1/2 hours to just talk and sometimes we even stop for breakfast. It's glorious.
At Claire's 2-week check up, we made her 1 month appointment and I was counting down the days until January 26. On the night before I was giddy with excitement. I know it sounds crazy, but I was 4-weeks postpartum and had been stuck in the house with 3 kids, one of whom was a newborn, for the entire time.
That night was rough with Claire, so that morning, I let Kyle sleep and I was up with all three. I thought about waking him up when I sat down to nurse Claire, but figured that the boys were playing quietly, so I wouldn't bother him.
About an hour later, I was trying to get the boys dressed and Jack said, "I have something in my nose!" He'd been congested for a day or two, so I got some tissue and told him to just keep blowing until it all came out.
He blew his nose a few times and then started freaking. out. So I sent him to his room, thinking he was just being dramatic. After hearing him in there still crying five minutes later, I went in and said, "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Not my finest parenting moment.
And he replied, "I TOLD YOU I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY NOSE."
Wait, what now?
I thought he was referring to snot. You know . . . something in his nose causing congestion. I was so, so wrong.
"I put a lego in my nose."
Awesome.
Let me back up and say that a week earlier, Ben had put a peanut in his nose. All the way up there. But with enough blowing and coaxing we finally got him to sneeze it out.
Side note: When I later asked Jack WHY he put a lego up his nose, he replied, "Because I was trying to smell it. It did not smell good."
I tried to look up Jack's nose, but at this point he was freaking out so much I had to call for Kyle. We had him blow and sneeze and did everything we could. We finally decided he needed to visit the ER.
This is about the time I started throwing my temper tantrum. The disappointment over missing our "date" was overwhelming. I just sat down and cried. Ridiculous, I know . . . but well, postpartum hormones don't always allow rational thought to prevail.
Kyle headed to the ER in Chelsea with Jack while I waited for the babysitter to come to stay with Ben. Then I left . . . alone . . . to take Claire to her check-up. Which was also in Chelsea. Two cars making the 45 minute drive separately. Not quite the "morning date" I had hoped for.
They tried to get the lego out, but the 5 people holding Jack down couldn't keep him still enough. So, they decided anesthesia was necessary. I'm so glad I wasn't there . . . I probably would have lost it at that point.
While they were waiting for the anesthesia, the nurse kept working with Jack, trying to get him to sneeze and blow it out. Jack had been crying so hard that his nose was running and she thought that might start to loosen things up.
She was right! Just before they were going to administer the anesthesia he blew his nose real hard and . . . viola! There it was. I received this photo while I was at Claire's check up with her:
Can you see the lego? No? That's because it's smaller than any toy labeled "Ages 3 and older" should be. Needless to say, we "lost" that lego set soon after this incident.
During all of the commotion, one of the nurses brought Jack a teddy bear, thinking it might bring him comfort. It did not. But it did provide a great show and tell item for the following week, during which Jack gave his speech on how to get a free teddy bear.
Aren't you glad your child isn't in his preschool class?
April 12, 2012
Dear Jack, Month 58
Dear Jack,
A few weeks ago, I was in the car on my first venture out alone with all three of you. It was a success. You and Ben didn't fight, Claire didn't fuss at all, and you all obeyed so well. It was wonderful.
My favorite part of the trip, however, was a conversation that we had in the car. It went something like this:
"Mom, you know how I'm a superhero?"
"Of course," I responded.
"Well, I haven't had my first save yet."
"What do you mean?"
You went on to tell me that you hadn't saved anyone yet and that you weren't really sure you could call yourself a superhero until you did. You explained that you aren't really old enough to fly (which apparently you think is something that comes with age) or save people from fires.
So I explained that there are other ways that you can be a superhero. I told you that helping friends, loving enemies, comforting those who are hurting and putting other people before yourself are things that real superheroes do.
This explanation was met with silence. The conversation was over.
Fast forward to last week when our family went to Bob Evans for dinner. Ben ordered fruit dippers and you ordered french toast. Ben had eaten most of his fruit, and looked over to see that you still had french toast left on your plate. He kept looking back and forth at his plate and yours and finally said, "Me want french toast!" A meltdown was imminent.
I explained to him that you had chosen french toast and that he had chosen fruit dippers and he needed to eat what he had left. But you jumped in and said, "That's okay. Ben, would you like a piece of my french toast?"
Ben was overjoyed. Dad and I were relieved.
You looked at me and said, "That was my first save, Mom."
Yes, Jack. Yes it was. Your first of many, I hope.
I'm so proud of you.
Love,
Mom
A few weeks ago, I was in the car on my first venture out alone with all three of you. It was a success. You and Ben didn't fight, Claire didn't fuss at all, and you all obeyed so well. It was wonderful.
My favorite part of the trip, however, was a conversation that we had in the car. It went something like this:
"Mom, you know how I'm a superhero?"
"Of course," I responded.
"Well, I haven't had my first save yet."
"What do you mean?"
You went on to tell me that you hadn't saved anyone yet and that you weren't really sure you could call yourself a superhero until you did. You explained that you aren't really old enough to fly (which apparently you think is something that comes with age) or save people from fires.
So I explained that there are other ways that you can be a superhero. I told you that helping friends, loving enemies, comforting those who are hurting and putting other people before yourself are things that real superheroes do.
This explanation was met with silence. The conversation was over.
Fast forward to last week when our family went to Bob Evans for dinner. Ben ordered fruit dippers and you ordered french toast. Ben had eaten most of his fruit, and looked over to see that you still had french toast left on your plate. He kept looking back and forth at his plate and yours and finally said, "Me want french toast!" A meltdown was imminent.
I explained to him that you had chosen french toast and that he had chosen fruit dippers and he needed to eat what he had left. But you jumped in and said, "That's okay. Ben, would you like a piece of my french toast?"
Ben was overjoyed. Dad and I were relieved.
You looked at me and said, "That was my first save, Mom."
Yes, Jack. Yes it was. Your first of many, I hope.
I'm so proud of you.
Love,
Mom
April 10, 2012
Dear Claire, month 3
Dear Claire,
I love to rock with you as you fall asleep. You often prefer to just be laid down when you get tired. But every so often, you'll still let me.
Don't tell your dad, but sometimes, I rock you longer than I need to. Partially because I like it. But also because there's typically chaos on the other side of your bedroom door. The kind of chaos that results from trying to get your brothers to bed for the night. On many nights, staying and rocking with you is so much more appealing than wrangling them into bed. I know that all too soon, you'll be causing that chaos at bedtime, and I want to savor the cuddle time you'll allow me while it lasts!
On those nights that you let me rock you, I sing to you. Even on the nights that you won't rock, I'll still sing one song after I lay you down. I'm not a great singer, but you don't seem to mind. I sing mostly hymns, because I suspect that bedtime lullabies might be your only exposure to those. There's a chance that you may have some of the words a little mixed up, because I'm a shaky on the lyrics when we get beyond the second verse. In a normal week we'll sing Great is Thy Faithfulness, It is Well, How Great Thou Art, Amazing Grace, And Can it Be, and a few more. We normally end with the doxology. You might not know "Jesus Loves Me" when you get to preschool, but you'll sing a mean "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing."
You've started making your own joyful noises, with your squealing and your squeaking this month. Mostly you just have these soft coos and grunts, but every so often you'll have a run of squealing that makes us laugh. I don't remember you brothers every doing this. It must be a girl thing. We all really get a kick out of it.
You rolled over once this month. I left you on your back, went back to my desk and when I heard you fussing I turned around and saw you on your belly kind of bewildered as to how you got there. You like to roll yourself to your side, normally to see your brothers, or to find out what's going on behind you.
It's been almost a year since we found out that you were on the way. Which means a year ago, I still had no idea that you'd be here right now. Your brothers were staying with grandma and grandpa for two nights and I was incredibly emotional that entire weekend. I couldn't figure out why. When we picked them up and brought them home, they cried the entire way and I remember being so overwhelmed. I had purchased a pregnancy test on that Friday before, and I can't even remember why. I think because of all of the heartburn I was having, and because of how out of wack my emotions seemed. I didn't really think it would be positive. I just wanted to put my mind at ease.
When we got home that Sunday afternoon, I went to the bathroom while your dad made dinner for the boys. I saw the test sitting there and decided to take it. My jaw dropped when I saw the "pregnant" appear. I stumbled out to the kitchen and told your dad, and we struggled to keep our composure until after your brothers were in bed. It was one of the happiest days of my life.
I know that I've never done anything to deserve you, Claire. You're a gift. A blessing. It's my privilege to be your mom.
Love,
Mama
I love to rock with you as you fall asleep. You often prefer to just be laid down when you get tired. But every so often, you'll still let me.
Don't tell your dad, but sometimes, I rock you longer than I need to. Partially because I like it. But also because there's typically chaos on the other side of your bedroom door. The kind of chaos that results from trying to get your brothers to bed for the night. On many nights, staying and rocking with you is so much more appealing than wrangling them into bed. I know that all too soon, you'll be causing that chaos at bedtime, and I want to savor the cuddle time you'll allow me while it lasts!
On those nights that you let me rock you, I sing to you. Even on the nights that you won't rock, I'll still sing one song after I lay you down. I'm not a great singer, but you don't seem to mind. I sing mostly hymns, because I suspect that bedtime lullabies might be your only exposure to those. There's a chance that you may have some of the words a little mixed up, because I'm a shaky on the lyrics when we get beyond the second verse. In a normal week we'll sing Great is Thy Faithfulness, It is Well, How Great Thou Art, Amazing Grace, And Can it Be, and a few more. We normally end with the doxology. You might not know "Jesus Loves Me" when you get to preschool, but you'll sing a mean "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing."
You've started making your own joyful noises, with your squealing and your squeaking this month. Mostly you just have these soft coos and grunts, but every so often you'll have a run of squealing that makes us laugh. I don't remember you brothers every doing this. It must be a girl thing. We all really get a kick out of it.
You rolled over once this month. I left you on your back, went back to my desk and when I heard you fussing I turned around and saw you on your belly kind of bewildered as to how you got there. You like to roll yourself to your side, normally to see your brothers, or to find out what's going on behind you.
It's been almost a year since we found out that you were on the way. Which means a year ago, I still had no idea that you'd be here right now. Your brothers were staying with grandma and grandpa for two nights and I was incredibly emotional that entire weekend. I couldn't figure out why. When we picked them up and brought them home, they cried the entire way and I remember being so overwhelmed. I had purchased a pregnancy test on that Friday before, and I can't even remember why. I think because of all of the heartburn I was having, and because of how out of wack my emotions seemed. I didn't really think it would be positive. I just wanted to put my mind at ease.
When we got home that Sunday afternoon, I went to the bathroom while your dad made dinner for the boys. I saw the test sitting there and decided to take it. My jaw dropped when I saw the "pregnant" appear. I stumbled out to the kitchen and told your dad, and we struggled to keep our composure until after your brothers were in bed. It was one of the happiest days of my life.
I know that I've never done anything to deserve you, Claire. You're a gift. A blessing. It's my privilege to be your mom.
Love,
Mama
April 5, 2012
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