Five years

Five years ago while I was getting ready for bed, my belly protruding from my body like a huge pumpkin, I felt a cramp. Minutes later another cramp, cramp, cramp! Then stillness until a few minutes later the cramping again.

Seven minutes apart.

It was you.

Knocking on my uterus door, telling me: 'It's time to let me out now mommy'.

Daddy was getting your older brother down to sleep. He popped his head into the bedroom for a question. "Where was the bear?"

"It's downstairs, next to the toy bin" I answer then tell him he had better call Dana. It was time to go.

"What? Are you sure? Already? Nah."

"I think I know when I am laboring." Cramp, cramp, craaaaamp! "Really, it's time to go. The contractions are six, seven minutes apart."

"Okay, call Dana, I will get Spencer ready" Rushing away as if it is daddy's first time with this.

Daddy drove us to the hospital in record time. I remember worrying about his speed as it was raining. The hospital was only minutes away. Daddy was nervous. He was smiling and nervous. Giddy maybe.

Me? I was counting minutes in my head and wondering what you would look like. Would you have light hair like your brother or dark hair like mommy and daddy? What would you be like? Would you be the quiet observant type like your mommy or the strong intellectual like your daddy? Perhaps you would be your own person and not resemble any of us. If you had the energy and daring of your older brother, mommy and daddy would have our work cut out for us.


You arrived into our world with your big blue eyes shining at us. We beamed, we held you and kissed you. You were all that we were hoping for; a beautiful baby, a sweet little babe. And now even when you are teasing or mocking your brothers and being a rascal I feel blessed that you are here. Your sweetness and 'I love yous' sometimes get you through those days when you are diligently provoking fights with your brothers. Those sweet blue eyes get you out of much trouble. In your five years, if I was keeping track I would say you have spent a few hours in 'time-outs'.


You are your own person. You most definitely are.


I love how you look up to your big brother
I love how you adore your sister and are the only one that can make her laugh belly laughs
I love that you are smart I love that you don't miss a beat
I love that you only want to wear one particular pair of pants and that you keep trying to wear sandals even when it's cold outside.
I love your sensitivity
I love your blue eyes
I love your deviance, I really do
I love that you are goofy and can make Spencer crack up laughing
I love that you are a good sport
I love that you are athletic and can kick a mean soccer ball
I love that you show no mercy when playing Sorry
I love that you sometimes think that last month was yesterday
I love your smile
I love your silliness
I love you.

Happy birthday Mr. Blue eyes.


Oh, one more thing. Try not to take out anyone's eye with Auntie Megs gift; the giant batman. It shoots 20 feet.

A photo blog

Raising Rocky or is it Evel?

Today was a good day because the kids played so nicely that I was able to price tag garage sale items.......


Today was a great day because the kids amazed me by not going wild at the store during a shopping excursion…..


I was thinking I was lucky because the kids played in the driveway on their bikes and scooters while I tagged more garage sale items (yes I am having a garage sale).


My luck ran out when Spencer runs up crying "Mom! I cracked my head open!" I look up to see a very upset boy with blood running down his face. I yell "Oh my God!" which upsets him more. I tell him to get into the bathroom.


While I gather up Sam and rush the other kids into the house I am thinking about what the six year old said: "Mom! I cracked my head open!" which to me means that part of his brain is showing and that he has an actual fissure in his head, but it only looks bad because the blood has seeped into his eye and stuck to his eyelashes.


I inspect his injury and put a wet cold towel on his head. The wound stops bleeding but looks deep, ugly. Luckily a friend takes the two middle kids while I go to the ER. Could you imagine taking all FOUR monkeys to the ER? Wholly headache Batman!


As I arrive at the ER hubby, who is on duty calls asking what I am up to. I tell him. He tells me that he too is at the ER as he cut his finger open and must get stitches. I laugh, but no. It isn't funny that two members of my family are hurt, but it's odd like seeing a two headed frog. NOT that I have seen a two headed frog but I have seen two frogs stuck together while mating.


Anyway, enough about frogs. And mating, which is what got me into this mess. :)


So I am sitting with Evil Knievel when the doc comes in. He begins asking Evil Knievel questions. How did it happen? Does it hurt? Was he wearing a helmet?


Crap! Oh no! I knew I should have enforced it. I thought about it, but they were only playing in the drive-way).


"No. My mom told me not to". Evil says.


"WHAT?!!" I laugh out loud. A chuckle, nervous. Did he just say what I thought he said? I am about to speak when the doctor looks at me. I have guilty painted all over my face, but not because I told my son he couldn't wear his helmet but because I didn't make him wear it. It doesn't matter the reason, I am wearing guilty.


"He wouldn't have gotten this head injury if he were wearing his helmet". The doc says before leaving. I just know he is running to the phone to call social services on me.


I look at Evil Knievel. "Why did you tell him that? I never told you that you couldn't wear your helmet!"


"Well…."


"Why would you tell him that? You don't tell people that".


"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."


WHAT? Like it's supposed to be a secret!

I think I just got played by a six year old.


PS. Evil (no I am not mis-spelling Evel) got 2 stitches above his eye. He didn't cry once. Not even when they stuck the needle right into his wound. Crazy kid.


Hubby received 7 stitches in his finger. He cut it on a packaging tape dispenser. The jagged edge that cuts the tape. Wow! Right? Who would have thunk it! Geez. Something up in the sky wasn't aligning right or maybe they were.


Lesson learned: Make the kids wear a helmet and never leave a packaging tape dispenser hanging from your pants pocket. It's dangerous.