Happy 9th Birthday, Jude!

I will try not emote too heavily over this post. My middle child is the least dramatic of the three of my children, and he is the one who tolerates my drama least of the three of them. 

He likes things to just be.

So I will honor him in that.

I will say that I just watched an interview with an older actor in which she says one bad thing about getting older is that you feel like you eat breakfast every thirty minutes. I feel that way about this last year. We celebrated Jude's eighth birthday and now, suddenly, it was time to celebrate his ninth, after just a couple of breakfasts.

I would like to slow things down just a bit. 

That bit of emoting done, the documenting of said birthday must commence. He may not like my emoting, but he can't stop my birthday documentation. 

His actual birthday was on a Wednesday. The hubs worked hard to organize his schedule so he could have the early part of the day off. The two of them had a man date and spent some quality time doing man sorts of things.

The other two and I went to get his birthday present. We spoke his love language and bought him a skateboard thing that I was quite sure he was going to break on arm on. I ignored my obsessive worry appropriate motherly concern and purchased what is called a "ripstik." 

He was overjoyed.

Don't let the lack of emotion fool you. I think we've covered already that he's not one to emote.

Or put up with my emoting. 

 

We met for lunch as his favorite restaurant: Moe's. If you ask him where he wants to eat ever, he'll choose Moe's. 

And I must pause to quietly emote over the preciousness of that boy. Goodness.

We had Gigi's cupcakes for desert. And fine, I had a little something to do with this choice of desert. But he was good with that.

After lunch, he wanted to go jump at an inflatable jumping place, or roller skate, but since it was the school year, those places were closed during the weekdays. He agreed that going to the zoo was an acceptable alternative, and that was a really good thing since it suddenly turned the day into a field trip.  Yay for days off that are still school days.

Not that I'm obsessively counting or anything. 

We had a great time at the zoo, and since we had just wrapped a unit study on reptiles, it was great timing for school too. They studied the anaconda for a long while. That thing was huge. 

We then headed to church where he spent the last part of this birthday with friends, and that made him happy.

It was a good birthday.

The following Saturday, he invited family and a few friends to celebrate his day at home. 

When I woke up that Saturday morning, he had decorated the whole downstairs by himself, set out all the table decorations and gotten everything ready by himself. 

It was, as you probably already read, a "red birthday."

He chose all the snacks, which meant we had a plethora of BBQ flavored foods. And pickles. 

It's his birthday party. He can do as he likes.  

He also opted for a cookie cake and a regular small cake too. And two kinds of ice cream. Variety is the name of the game. 

He was blessed with really great gifts. He was so happy.

The baby, of course, nearly stole the show.

I shared her like a good aunt should. 

I mean, how could all of that cuteness not almost steal the show?

I was thrilled to get her at the end of the party. 

I love that kid.

We probably look as tired as we felt. It was a great day, though. 

He promptly spent the rest of the weekend building Legos and playing with his toys.

Which is exactly what a nine year old should do. 

Excuse me while I go quietly emote.

Laney is 11

It was 11 years ago tonight. 

A rough couple of weeks were coming to a close. 

I had gone to my normal doctor's appointment not expecting anything out of the ordinary. I had seen a new doctor, and after examining me, she exclaimed  "You're four and a half centimeters! You need to go home and get your bags packed because I'm probably going to see you back here at the hospital tonight to deliver this baby..."

I called my husband before I had even left the parking lot and asked him to get off work early and come home as soon as possible. I called my mom and asked her to come to the house when she got off work too.

I went home to a quiet house and finished packing my hospital bag. I was crying, a ball of nervous excitement. I knew it was my last night as a person that wasn't a mother. I sat down to wait on my husband and mom to get to the house. They arrived. We all sat in the living room and waited.

And nothing happened.

Mom went home and I went to bed, fully expecting to wake up in the middle of the night in labor.

I didn't.

Matter of fact, I didn't go into labor for two and a half more weeks.

That was a long two and a half weeks. 

I sort of gave up on ever going into labor.

Thanksgiving approached and my sister-in-law sweetly excused me from doing anything except showing up to her house. The night before Thanksgiving day we got pizza and the husband kindly watched "Legally Blonde" with me. I went to bed and slept for about an hour before I woke up with excruciating heartburn. I headed downstairs for some milk and met Allen on the stairs as he was coming up to bed. After the glass of milk I returned to bed only to find that I could not get comfortable. I tossed and turned and finally realized that I was contracting and doing so pretty regularly.

I didn't want to wake up the sleeping husband who had just fallen asleep. I turned on the television and started watching Thanksgiving episodes of old sitcoms. After a couple of hours of timing the contractons they had stayed regular, and  I knew I had to wake him up even though he had only been asleep for a short time.

We headed to the hospital and waited until 7 am to call the family.

Soon twelve family members were all in one waiting room waiting on our first child and the first grandchild, and great-grandchild, to be born.

They waited until 5:39 that afternoon.

I apologized profusely. That was a long wait.

It was worth it, though. 

I got my daughter. 

There aren't words to describe how much I love this girl. She is my heart. She takes me to the edge of my sanity. She delights me and challenges me and sanctifies me and teaches me and loves me and makes me laugh. I love being her mother and I pray that she will always be my friend. I pray that she will always be thankful that the Lord gave me to her as her mother. 

As we approach these preteen years, I sometimes find myself eyeing her with complete trepidation. We are alike enough to completely clash some days, but for the most part our desire to stay in harmony outweighs any lasting conflict. 

There are days I miss the baby that she was, but I can honestly say that I like being her mom more with each passing day. She's complex and smart. The person that she is growing into truly amazes me. She is far smarter that I ever was at her age, and I have to work hard to stay a few steps ahead of her even now. I stay amazed at how easily she retains information and how much she loves to learn. 

She is funny and makes me laugh. She is a complete klutz just like her mother. She is musical just like her daddy. She is responsible and takes care of me and her brothers too. She has her bad days, and she will always have some struggles deep within. She will have to work harder at some things than her brothers will, and there are days I pray fervently that she follows Christ all her life. 

She had a depth of spiritual knowledge that makes me so thankful for the work the Lord has done in her. I'm grateful that He saved her. I'm thankful for the work He has done in her and pray that work continues. 

I also love that this year she has a "real" birthday - she will always be a Thanksgiving baby. 

She had her voice recital last week. She did really well considering we all questioned whether or not she would actually go through with it. As I watched her with her friends on stage doing what she loves, I was proud and scared too. She's growing up. My days of parenting her are becoming less and less. I pray that she has a good foundation that will last her a lifetime. 

I'm also just really really glad that I get to be her mom.

Happy 6th Birthday, Zane!

The 6th birthday weekend of fun started on Saturday with the first round of arrivals of birthday cards.

Someone else loves her too. 

(And no, I don't think she reciprocates the love exactly)

Aunt Emily came over to bring him his present since she was going on her first anniversary vacation and couldn't come to his birthday lunch. 

We really love Uncle Chris.

Lego motorcycle?

Good choice.

Daddy took the boys bowling for a little pre-birthday fun.

The girls stayed home and let the boys have boy time. 

We aren't great bowlers.

Sunday after church, we went to get breakfast after church with Mimi and Daddy's family.

Cousin Brandon

Opening presents.

Aunt Sandy

Papa and Daddy

We were missing some family members, but that's one problem with a summer birthday. People are sort of scattered during July. But that was okay! He was fine with it.

A mystery package had come in the mail earlier in the week.

I did the right thing and made him wait to open it.

Even though I didn't really want to make him wait.

I'm not good with surprises.

 I don't like giving them or getting them. 

I like instant gratification. 

But he waited. 

Our sweet friend got him ready to play baseball.

I don't know whether to be happy or very very sad.

He is very very happy. 

I guess that means I need to be happy too. 

Daddy took the kids swimming for more birthday fun.

I think I took a nap.

That was my birthday present. 

Oh wait...

He spent the rest of the day after swimming putting together his new Legos.

He and Daddy love doing that. 

Monday was his actual birthday, and all he wanted was for his best friends to go with us to the jump place. 

So we did. 

They played and jumped...

And slid. They had a blast. 

We went and had lunch at Moe's after that, which was the birthday boy's choice. 

That made all the kids very happy.

(and me too)

Sister wanted to light the candles for him.

One motorcycle cake for the birthday boy, which he requested. 

Sister's present to him.

We spent the rest of the day playing with Legos and playing Wii, also the birthday boy's choice. 

It was such a great day. 

He went to bed one happy kid. 

It was a great birthday. I can't believe he's six. He's still the baby, but he's not a little kid anymore.