In honor of “labor” day….
How long were your labors?
Kid #1: 16 hours
Kid #2: 5 hours
Kid #3: 9 hours
How did you know you were in labor?
Kid #1: I was out to dinner with my hubby when I felt the first contractions. We started to time them and when our waitress popped by the table she exclaimed, “Are you in labor??!!” and then promptly left to get our check and didn’t return for a really, really long time. Um, hello?!
Kid #2: I was induced 1 week after his due date.
Kid #3: I was induced 1 day after her due date.
Where did you deliver?
In the same hospital for all three kiddos. Loved, loved, loved the staff!
Kid #1: Epidural! Easy peasy.
Kid #2: Epidural – but only one side went numb.
Kid #3: Epidural – mostly worked great until the end when the pain got ahead of the drugs.
Nope. I was so terrified – and relieved that I never did.
Same doctor for all three 🙂
Kid #1: My doctor was scheduled to go on vacation. I had my baby on her last day at work! I had my hubby and my mom coaching me.
Kid #2: Same doctor. This time I had my hubby, my mom, and my sister by my side.
Kid #3: Same doctor. Switched it up… had my hubby and my BFF.
I can hardly believe that you’re 15 already. In 6 more months you can start learning to drive. And in 3 more years you’re outta here! Yowza!
This last year with you has been fabulous. You rocked your freshman year – even your college class! You are so smart and amazing. I love that you know what you’re passionate about and that you’re pursuing it. But at the same time you’re flexible… you’re willing to explore other classes – like the history of rock ‘n’ roll. I can’t wait to see how you do next year.
You continue to have a great sense of humor. I love that you’re willing and able to laugh at yourself. Never take yourself too seriously.
Every year when I write your letter I try to define who you are… it’s not easy. You’re bigger than life. Passionate, caring, sensitive, strong, smart, beautiful, funny. You’re amazing.
I remember the day that we brought you home from the hospital. I put you on my bed and just stared at you. I couldn’t believe they let me leave the hospital and take you home… I mean, I had no idea what I was doing. I was now responsible for another human being. That’s huge.
I think I did okay. You’re alive. You have all of your fingers and toes. You haven’t eaten anyone or set any fires. So we’re good. And now you’re figuring it out for yourself. Learning to set your own boundaries, building your own relationships, being responsible and trustworthy. And you know what? You’re doing okay. You’re alive. You have all of your fingers and toes. I’m so proud of you.
I love you Chickie!
You are officially a teenager. Actually, you have been one for a little over a week now… I’m late in posting.
I swear that if you sit still I can literally watch you grow. You love that you’re taller than me – than your older sister – than your oldest cousin… Just waiting to outgrow Daddy now. And it’s close… maybe 3/4 of an inch? You’re still all arms and legs but those arms have some muscle definition. And don’t get me started on that caterpillar on your upper lip. When did I saw it was okay to start growing facial hair?!
You also have a man voice. I love to tease you by quoting whatever you just said and then adding, “…he said in his man voice.” It’s such a weird thing to hear this deep voice coming out of your mouth.
You aren’t so quick to jump out of bed any more. You still wake up pretty early but now you snuggle down into your blankets and moan and grumble before finally getting out of bed. And once you’re up you start eating. and eating. and eating. I’m pretty sure you don’t stop until you fall back into bed at night. I fear this is just the beginning…
You played three sports this year; flag football, soccer, and basketball. It was fun to watch you play in all three but I have to say that basketball was my favorite. You just came alive. You were aggressive, you thought out your moves, you rebounded…. and you hesitated. You would get the ball with a clear, open shot but, instead, you would pass it; not sure of yourself. Since Daddy and I were your coaches this year we really harped on you to take those shots. Bam! Three pointer! You said that next year you want to be “the Cedric” of sports. Cedric is naturally good at any sport and is the team leader. I’m excited that you’ve challenged yourself to fill his role.
Still no interest in girls – although they are all making goo-goo eyes at you. I’m glad you haven’t shown any serious interest yet. Too much drama. That’s fine… take your time.
You continue to be well mannered and polite. At least to everyone that isn’t your sibling. You love to taunt and tease your sisters. One of these days they are going to figure out how to gang up on you and then you’ll be in trouble.
I’m proud of who you are and I can’t wait to see how you grow and change in this first year of teens.
I love you!
Five of my guilty pleasures… in no particular order:
A venti coffee. I lurve me some coffee but I almost always stick to a medium or small. Every once in a while I will treat myself and splurge on a large.
Lucky Charms. About once a year I get a craving for those mini marshmallows. I’ll cave and buy a family size box of the cereal and then not share it with a single member of my family. Sorry guys, I love you, but hands off.
A nap. At 8 o’clock in the morning. On a weekday. I am a very light sleeper and it’s difficult to nap when the house is full of non-quiet people. It is a glorious thing when I can drop the kids off at school and come home and climb back into bed for another hour or two.
Books. Although I don’t feel guilty about this particular pleasure. It is especially delicious when I get a book as a gift. My secret santa at work gave me a book this year. And she recommended another title; 800+ pages – and part of a series – BONUS!
Sherlock Holmes. Again, I don’t feel guilty. Well, maybe a little. I only recently discovered S.H. on Netflix and very quickly finished all of the episodes. The new series started this month in the UK and is supposed to be released to the US later this month. And who knows how long before it hits Netflix. I may or may not have found a way to watch it on BBC.
Ten things you should know about me:
1. I am an introvert. Being around people drains my batteries.
2. I keep only a few very close friends. (see #1)
3. I love to read. LOVE. I am always looking for new books to read. Just don’t recommend any schmoopy romance novels or far-out sci-fi.
4. I am a C. I am a C-H. I am a C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N. That right there should tell you that I am a Christian who grew up in a church and that I probably still work in children’s ministry. And I can probably sing that song faster than you.
5. Coffee. Yes, please.
6. If I could live anywhere in the world it would be on the beach. Which beach? I don’t care. Sand, waves, sun… I’m sold.
7. I’m a daydreamer.
8. I might be addicted to stupid Facebook games like Candy Crush. But in my defense they help with #7 and #1.
9. I’m wondering why I picked 10 things. I should have just stopped at 8.
10. My husband just called me musical. I am now questioning if even knows me at all?!!!
11. Bonus! I love elephant jokes. If you don’t, then we probably won’t get along.
Remember when birthdays were exciting? Maybe you were finally turning a double digit. Or one of the milestones; 16, 18, or 21. At some point most people start dreading their birthdays. They don’t want to be 30, 40, or 50. And then it becomes exciting again… you made it to 89, 99, or maybe 109!
If I could pick one age to be I think it would be my early 40’s. I’m not there yet but I’m looking forward to it. Sure it’s fun being a kid but there’s so much that you can’t do yet. Teen years weren’t all that they were cracked up to be – too many hormones and drama. I felt like I had no idea what I was doing in my 20’s. I didn’t go away for college and I had no idea what career I wanted to pursue. I’m in my late 30’s now. This decade has been difficult. There’s been some good – some very, very good. But most of it has been overshadowed in heavy stuff.
I’m hoping that my 40’s bring balance and contentment. I’m sure I’ll have my share of heartache and struggle but I pray it’s more balanced. That’s what I’m looking for most of all… more balance in my life. I know several popular bloggers that choose a word for their year… perhaps I should pick “balance” and spend the rest of my 30’s practicing so that my 40’s will, indeed, be more balanced.
Living in the gray zone is a difficult thing to do for someone with borderline personality disorder. Either my son is going to be okay or he’s not. The doctors are saying he’s going to be fine but I’m the one rocking him when he’s screaming in pain. There is no gray… He’s not okay.
It drains me. I stand strong. I am a rock. He trusts me to make it okay. To help him through each battle. And I do. I hold back the tears. I stay positive. I encourage him. I pray with him.
But inside it drains me. My heart sinks. I tear myself down for not fixing it.
When he finally sleeps and I can escape to my bed… That’s when my chest pushes in and weighs more than I can bear. I trust God with the big picture. I have no problems with that. It’s the day to day battles that I feel alone. When I beg for pain to disappear and instead it increases. When my son tells me he’s afraid of dying young. When he doesn’t have a single dream or hope for the future. It weighs on my heart. Because in my world there is no middle ground. He’s either okay or he’s not.