Love For The Sixth Baby

Henry and me, nine years ago. 

The love for a first baby is a magic, manic kind of love. It's born of inexperience and a deep desire to do the right thing by this human, this brand-new person that you've been charged with. It is the love that runs at a hundred miles an hour, trying to keep up with what everyone says you should do for your new little love.

The beauty of having many children is that the mania is gone. The near-insane love fueled by fear and momma-bear instincts has waned. With each baby born, it has changed.

It is replaced with a different kind of love: one that is calm, relaxed, still clueless...

This knowledge, the truth that you-know-nothing-but-it's-alright, is so very different from the haunting, frightened love that drives a new mother to read every book on parenting. Or to obsessively check that her newborn is still breathing. It isn't the same at all. It's no more real, and no less equal to that first-baby love. But it is very different.

This love is gentle, it's slow, and it's confident.

This love is born of experience.

This love holds dear the wonderment that comes with each baby. His toes, his tiny nose, his sweet head; all are just as awe-inspiring as the first baby was. There is no less enchantment in a sixth baby than there was in a first. There is almost more in fact--more because you know it simply can not last.

You know soon, he'll big like his siblings, making you nuts and leaving you wondering where in the world he came from. In your bones, you know. It'll be over before you're ready for it to be.

You know you'll be tired forever, and you're fine with that. It's what you signed on for.

You know that you can't love him anymore than you do right this minute, but also that you'll love him more tomorrow, because you've lived it before.

You know that most things work out. You know you are doing your best, even on days when you're not. You know kids are forgiving. They forget your mistakes far faster than you do. You know they love you even when you don't deserve it.

So you move slowly. You marvel at him. You rock him because you know he won't keep. You hold him as close as you can as long as you can because soon he'll be running away from you towards the playground.

You know, if you don't pay attention, you'll miss it.

You know better than to risk missing it.

This love is its own kind of magic.

Frederick, ten days old.

To Bring it Home for Another Year

Wow, hello. Too long. I've been busy, we've all be dying of the sicknessess and it's just been crazytown.

Christmas was lovely, thanks so much for asking. We had my brother Caleb ad his wife here, and it was a low key, nonstress day. We ate pizza, like that's how not worried about it I was.

Opening presents:

Caleb and Lexi (BEFORE Lexi came down with pneumonia)


STOCKINGS!


EXCITEMENT because Santa brought snow shoes!

Miriam caught on to present opening:


Miriam likes her sparkly purse.

Warm scarves and sleeves for playing outside.


They allll got Legos. Legos are everywhere.


Then a couple days later my parents, sister and her little dude got here and we did Christmas again.

More Christmas!

Cowboys!


THEN Henry was baptized. That was good except in time between Christmas and the weekend, all my children, save Henry fell ill with what we assume is influenza.

So, it was good day. Except for the babies being so sick.


They are strange.

My mom being unimpressed with our taking her picture while she held the sick, pathetic thing that was Ezra.

Erin, pretending to ignore me while I took a picture of her mad-piano-playing skillz.

My cute daddy-o before they departed thence.

Henry opening his "comforter" in honor of his baptism, made by my mom, which I apparently need to take a picture of.


Miriam, sick. SO sad.

Ezra, napping on me while sitting up. Miriam,Still sick.

Spencer has been hit the hardest and is still sick a week later.
CHRISTMAS BREAK FOR THE WIN.


Additionally, my neck has somehow become so jacked up that turning it any degree to the right results in my crying out in anguish. Once again, my chiro is my boyfriend, and is saving me slowly but surely. OH the agony. Seriously. DYING.

Well. Ima going to go eat take out with my husband and share with my baby girl who is a night owl and heard we'd be having take out therefore couldn't be bothered to go to bed like her brothers.

Then, I'm going to bed at a reasonable hour and will wake up to a frigid New Year in the which I'll be doing pretty much the same stuff as always. I like predictablilty. It's a good thing.

Much love to you all. Thanks for peeking at our life. :)

Walking in the Woods

“Instructions for living a life. 
Pay attention. 
Be astonished. 
Tell about it.” 
― Mary Oliver









Sometimes you just need a walk in the woods to clear your head. Sometimes you just have to investigate holes in trees in hopes a snake willc ome out. Sometimes you have to climb, reach and climb a bit higher. Just because, well, you can.

Sometimes, you ignore the to-do lists and just run away from home for a bit.

To my Derek on Our Tenth Wedding Anniversary

I'm feeling ridiculously mushy this morning. So please excuse me. 

Post best enjoyed listening to this song, which reminds me of Derek so much it's like it's ABOUT Derek. 

Dear Derek,

Thank you for the last ten years. Thanks for never waivering. Thank you for working so hard.

When we got married we were kids, no question. We thought we knew what life would be, even what we hoped it would be. And those dreams have come true, Love. But oh my, we have so much more than I ever thought possible.


We've grown a lot in the last decade. We've morphed, we've matured, we've gotten so much better, you and I.



Look at our life, my dear. We could never have assumed we'd have so much. We are richly blessed.

And I am richly blessed because you are my truest friend. I am safe with you, you are my home.


My dreams come true over and over again because of you.







Thanks for being you, thanks for never doubting me or us. Thanks for being everything I knew you were and so much more.









You are my heart, my love, my life. You are my favorite. Still. Always.

The Best Medicine (Lessons from my Marriage, part 4)

In honor of our Ten Year Anniversary this month, I'm writing out lessons I've learned from being married to my man. 

I don't think I'm an expert on anything really (except maybe how to nurse a baby while chasing a two year old and never even breaking the baby's latch), but I do think that Derek and I have something pretty great. While much of our relationship is due to just being extremely compatible, our life is not perfect, we are not perfect, and I've had to learn some pretty hard lessons in my ten years thus far as a wife. 



(Our photographer double booked himself and so we had a fake cake cutting and a fake bouquet throwing before the reception. It was a very weird day.)

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
Khalil Gibran

Derek and I laugh a lot with each other. We always have. It's a vital part of relationship. We make each other laugh, we like to joke and kid around. It's one of the things I value deeply. It might sound strange to say I value our joking around, but I do.

I can't imagine a life where we weren't laughing with each other. I wouldn't want a life without it. Finding joy and humor in things together helps us stay close. Some of my favorite memories in our marriage are of the two of us laughing at... who knows what? I just remember the laughter.

We laugh. We laugh to cope, to connect, to love, to live. We laugh.

And we're happy, even when it's hard.

Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.

Bill Cosby

Service (Lessons From My Marriage, Part Three!!)

In honor of our Ten Year Anniversary this month, I'm writing out lessons I've learned from being married to my man. 

I don't think I'm an expert on anything really (except maybe how to nurse a baby while chasing a two year old and never even breaking the baby's latch), but I do think that Derek and I have something pretty great. While much of our relationship is due to just being extremely compatible, our life is not perfect, we are not perfect, and I've had to learn some pretty hard lessons in my ten years thus far as a wife. 
(Babies! We were BABIES!) 

Today's lesson is one I'm always relearning.

Service.

I preach it right and left to my kids: Serve each other, help each other and don't complain about it.

And then sometimes I forget to serve my spouse.

I don't mean this in any sort of 1950s "Here are your slippers and smoking jacket" way either. (Have you ever met me? Yeah, that's not happening...) I mean it in a mutual, equal way. Derek is excellent at this. He thinks about what I might need/want and makes it happen, or asks how to make it happen.

It's a skill he has.

Me? Well, I'm quite good at wiping bums, and feeding the small people, and sometimes I forget to serve him.

(I'm a slow learner, what can I say?)

So. I have to make efforts to do something Derek seems to do naturally. I make the effort to make his lunch, or scramble him an egg. I have to try to remember to hang up his shirts out of the dryer so they don't wrinkle (this so does not happen).

Little acts of service can make a big difference. I'll never be perfect at this, but it's a lesson I always am learning.

Thomas S. Monson said,

 “Spiritual strength frequently comes through selfless service.” 

What better way to be strengthened spiritually than by serving my spouse? 

I'm trying. I hope I'm always trying. 

Overwhelmed, that's what I am.

Random cute ice cream eating picture.

I'm  having a terrible time balancing my life.

Honest to to goodness. I can't believe how crazed I feel.

School is naturally a top priority, so I sometimes feel if 1. School is done 2. There is a meal on the table some time around dinner then I am successful.

Seriously low expectations.

There just isn't enough time in the day.

The house is (as you saw recently) frequently *ahemalwaysahem* a mess. It's usually clean under the clutter.
But still. Crap everywhere.

Everyone's yards, as Henry kindly pointed out yesterday are "more beautifuller than our's Mommy." Yes, child, I know. It's a LARGE work in progress.

Any amount of outside work equals the house staying a mess.

We've been doing a lot of outside work as of late.

Then there are classes/appointments/activities for the boys. I can't keep them straight. Spencer and Oliver missed their science class yesterday because I forgot about it.

Good grief, I suck.

Why do I suck so badly at finding the time and energy to get it ALL done? I haven't touched my novel in WEEKS because it's just so low on the list.

One claim to fame here is that you can ALWAYS find clean clothes. You just may have to dig for them.

Overwhelmed.

I need a maid/nanny/live-in helper.

You know, a Susan, like in Anne of Ingleside. I need a Susan.

Anyone want to apply for the post? It doesn't pay, but I'll treat you real nice!

Jet-Setting Morgan

WOW! Too much time has passed. I'm sorry about that. I've been running all around the country like a crazy person the last two weeks.

And it has been a BLAST!

Early last week we headed to Mystic Connecticut, and it was beautiful. We ran and played and enjoyed the first really REALLY warm day we'd had all year. It was fabulous.


Then Meem and I boarded a flight (two actually) for the great state of Utah. It was my littlest brother's birthday, and he's leaving for TWO WHOLE YEARS on his mission in a couple of weeks. So it was a sibling reunion. My kind, sweet, magnanimous husband stayed home with the boys.

They didn't miss me in the slightest. No, I'm not kidding. Daddy is WAY more fun than Mom. This I already knew.

I shall simply have to go away more often.

It was the first time ever in the history of my parenting that I went away (other than the overnight births, but that was work and I don't count it).

I got to see Stacy and crew, which was balm to my lonely soul. Oh how I love her and her family.
*sniff*



It was so much fun to be with my family. I have missed them terribly since leaving in January. We stayed up late and laughed until we cried.

I love them. So much. (Not enough to take any pictures, but you know... I was busy!)


And then I came home, and to ease the sting of leaving behind my family, my own sweet boys were waiting for me, with signs they'd colored themselves.

Then I couldn't believe I'd been happy all weekend without them.

Motherhood is a strange disease.

To keep life interesting, my dearest of friends, Maren and her brood of four boys that match mine quite nicely came to stay.


We chased boys, slapped bandaids on the MULTIPLE bloody injuries (BOYS!) and sneaked brownies when the kids weren't looking.

It was very very good.

The two (TWO) toilets that were clogged were remedied by a late evening trip to Walmart for a plunger (who knew I didn't have one??) and my superhero husband.

Derek has been running around nonstop and has to work all weekend.

Poor man is going to need his own weekend away pretty soon.

Here I am, in New Hampshire

Well.



Hello.

This has been one heckuva journey.

Yes. A journey.



(Nebraska)

Many many miles.

It all started with the seven of us loading up and heading eastward with an extremely sick Oliver.

By Cheyenne, Henry had the croup.

Urgent Care visit for Henry in Wyoming. WOOT!


(Hotel!)

Then, every single day we made it many LESS miles than we wanted.

Four days stretched to nearly six.

We were, in short, MISERABLE.

Much vomit (from coughing too much), much coughing, much fevers, much dizziness.


(Many meals in restaurants)

MISERABLE.

Derek got sick, I got sick.

EVERYONE GOT SICK.

We rolled into our new place late Saturday night.

Then we laid on the couches for four days.


(Underwhelmed with the new house. Too sick.) 

Awesome.

More urgent care visits.

Almost no boxes unpacked.

Which is fine because only 2/3 of our stuff made it form Utah so far anyway. The rest is SUPPOSED to be here tomorrow. We'll see. I'll believe it when I see it.

We didn't have internet for the whole week.

We seem to be on the upswing, except Spencer who got better and now not so much again? I see another urgent care visit in our future.

I love the house, Derek did very well. New Hampshire is pretty.

My cell phone doesn't really like our house.


(Me standing at the only spot in my house my phone likes!)

Really, I'm grateful. We avoided any road hazards, the car ran beautifully. We had warm hotels (only one that was "wth?". The dog had no accidents anywhere (until the first night in the new house, awesome-Dog). Miriam avoided getting the brunt of the illness. The hotels had coin-op laundries, there was plenty of Diet Coke to be found. Blessings.

I'm happy we're home. I'm learning a bit about where we live. It's an adjustment, and there are moments of "woah!" every day. We live here? In this house? In New Hampshire?

Weird.

But it's good. Very good. My kitchen is now functional. The classroom/toyroom is functional. The internet is functional.


(Picnic dinners on the floor.)



(Don't mind the trash bag, but I managed to get the kitchen done!)




(What do you do with your formal dining room, when you're a homeschooling family? Turn it into the classroom.) 


(My favorite spot right now. Pellet stove, rocking chair. Delight.)

We good.