Sunday Evening Post, issue 15
Or, no news is good news.
Don't you hate that saying? Great nothing is bad is happening, but still keep me updated, right? I'm falling back on it now to somehow excuse my ______. (Fill in the blank.) But really, all is well. Little Ethan is two months and although it's a rough work in progress, we've created a new normal. I made a rule for myself I would not get on the computer while my kids are awake because it was sucks too much of myself from them. The only problem is by they time they are all asleep I am too tired myself or gee, I don't know maybe I want to actually talk with Jared or something. That's the real reason. I'm trying to maintain some sort of balance and ya'll are more graceful than I. But I have to hurry and finish this post so I can go blog surfing to catch up on everyone. I'm dying to know all the going-ons I've been missing.
Three deep thoughts about having baby #3:
1. Until all my kids are 5 years old, in school, and can pretty much fend for themselves, I just need to accept that life can best be described as digging a hole. You are in a this hole, not a dark and deep place, a happy place, but a hole and constantly (even franticly) digging yourself out. You shovel as fast as you can to keep the walls from caving in and removing new dirt tossed in by outside sources. The thing is, you asked to be put in this hole and it's exactly what you want to be doing with your life and you find yourself deeply fulfilled by your task. Nevertheless, you are still digging. And digging.
Soooo deep. I know, I know. Okay, I promised three thoughts so here they are...
2. Mantra number one: "Manage Your Expectations." That's from my friend Susanna and I must say it's been wise, wise advice that has served me well not just with kids by pretty much everything. Not lower, just manage. For example: "Today we will eat." It might be cold cereal for every meal, but we will eat. Or, "Expect the remainder of this post to be a disconnected series of thoughts and reporting of events." Words, real or otherwise, will continue to appear on your screen. Yes, even pictures. End all expectations there. See? Brilliant, hun? Now all pressure to write clearly and properly have been neatly avoided and I can just write. Just clear out my brain of the overload of thoughts from the past few months and do what blogging is all about: connecting with you and sharing myself.
3. I forgot. Really. Sleep deprivation has awkwardly ended a good many conversations because I've simply forgotten what I was talking about.
I arrived home from church today about 15 minutes after Jared did. Natalie was with me and he had the two boys. I walked through the door and could hear crying as I made my way through the house to the kids room. The scene stopped me at the door. There was Jared looking more manly then any photograph in GQ. He had his white shirt sleeves rolled up (am I the only one who thinks that's so hot?) sitting on the floor cradling a crying child in each arm. He didn't look upset or harried. It was just, well, fatherhood. That's all I can think to describe the sweet scene that I wanted so badly to go scoop up. Isaac had gone too long without a nap. Sundays are rough. And poor Ethan sure couldn't get what he wanted from dad.
About Ethan:
He has curly hair. After a wash, tight tight curls everywhere. By mid day, a pile of fluff. And before bed, the curls are gone because we've rubbed his head or played with is hair all day and it just had great volume. Like a perm.
He's not big or small. Just right. I love how babies feel when they weight between 10 and 12 lbs. It's a good size. He is a happy baby and he looks like me when I was a baby. He's very cute. :)
Isaac. What a nut. I LOVE this kid. His oral vocabulary has decided to take the stage this week.
Come
God
Yummy
Clean
Smash
Jump
Bum
P-U or P-eeewww
Play
Heavy
Read
Book
His life still is all about tchoo-tchoo's. A few months ago Natalie put her hands on her hips and told Isaac, "It's not all about trains, Isaac." Well, yes, it is.
He is a chronically happy kid here at home and all the day long I hear peals of laughter and feet just running. There's plenty of crying and fighting over this or that, but for the most part he just acts so happy to be alive. Jumping and doing and being a boy.
Natalie is blossoming as a little girl. She's practically moving out of the house and off to college compared to Ethan. She is also so happy to be alive. Full of excitement and qwerky bits. Her little world has widened exponentially in the past few weeks as she's entered the world of words. She had finished reading Green Eggs and Ham by the time we were home from the library. Later that week while at the doctor's office she was standing next to me at the counter. She read while pointing at a basket with pamphlets in it "Take One" So she did. I half fell out of my chair when she was sitting at the table staring at my water bottle and asked, "Mom, what's a calorie?"
For the official record: We've had some rough spots. Natalie still talks about The Bad,
Bad Day. Ethan was about two weeks old. I think it was day three I had been completely on my own with the kids. Jared was working in the ICU (define ICU as 6-7 day work weeks, 12-16 hours a day and work defined as pulling the plug on patients). Aaaaand, as if my emotions weren't on the edge and tipping my entire Enrichment committee, leader and all were released or being released. And then while on the phone with my mom who was telling me my grandma has stage 4 breast cancer (read terminal) I look out the window and what do I see? Certainly not popcorn. Oh no no no. SNOW. Make that S. N. O. W. in May. It was a bad, bad day.
But all in all. This is exactly what I want from life. And I can't get over feeling so deeply grateful, shocked, and satisfied with the happiness that is mine.
Okay. For the photos. Couldn't sign off without them. I must say it feels good to blog. Don't think I actually wrote anything I set off to write about, but there's always next week. Or tomorrow! Whoa...whoa. Expectations...remember the expectations...
Big yawn.
Little old feet.
Thinking hard 'bout that sleep?
First jump off the diving board. 
How are we really doing? A picture says it all and I can't believe I took a photo of this. She is wearing two shirts here, folks. See the strange saggy bottom? See the weird gold rope wrapped around her waist for a belt. Yup. We're raising ragamuffins. In fact we must have people worried because no joke we've probably had 10 boxes worth of clothes given to us in the past couple of months. Even a neighbor we've never met came over and asked if we wanted like hand me downs...they have one child. He's eleven. If you see Isaac this summer, you'll be swept away to 1996. These are my favorite of his new duds. He's pretty stoaked too. Train shirt. Train shorts. Train jammies.
