She's Here!

Our littlest princess has arrived, and she is beautiful.

 Jake is a pro baby holder by now.

Abby is thrilled that there are so many girls in our family.

Grace is fascinated by this new little person.

And Cameron and I can't believe we have four children now. But we feel very, very blessed. Life is beautiful.

Bikes, Paint, and Superman

Shortly before Jake turned four we bought him a little bike. In the week leading up to Jake's birthday Cameron disassembled the entire bike and painted it green with a yellow stripe so Jake could have a John Deere bike. (Jake's John Deere obsession was young at that point but extremely vibrant.) Jake was thrilled with his birthday present that year.

Jake on his fourth birthday

Then recently we bought Jake a much bigger bike, and Abby needed a little princess bike. Cameron again disassembled the entire bike and painted it pink and purple with a final coat of sparkles. Abby is in heaven.

I love seeing the kids' faces light up when Daddy gets their bike just right. I love seeing Abby so giddy and happy as she cruises all over on her new wheels. And I feel pretty lucky to be married to a Superman who can wield screwdrivers and cans of paint so darn handily. I am a lucky woman.

Reflections on My Due Date

My due date came and went three days ago, and I am still pregnant, large, and not-really-in-charge. And I've been doing a lot of reflecting on life.

I should probably preface my next sentiment by saying that there are scads of women in this world who I am sure have harder pregnancies than mine. Yes, I feel pretty darn lousy for a few months in the beginning, but I almost never throw up. Yes, I experience lots of other aches and pains throughout the nine months, but I am sure there are lots of women whose experiences are worse than mine. So the last few weeks whenever I have started to think I was a little bit miserable (such as when the kids and I came down with bad colds at 37-1/2 weeks along), I have reminded myself that I chose this because I think our children are worth it. They are. And that little thought always pulls me out of my pity party in a hurry.

I wish I always felt so cheery about life's challenges. But the fact is that some miseries in life aren't our choice and never would be. Sometimes life presents true anguish and heartache. Some hard times don't have a silver lining like a beautiful new baby to snuggle. That was certainly how my cancer felt for a few years.

Recently we attended the wedding of Cameron's brother, where we enjoyed seeing and catching up with lots of relatives who we don't see often enough. Among them were Cameron's aunt and uncle who opened their home and took such good care of us when we had to go to California for my cancer treatment. During one conversation we had with them, Cameron's uncle recalled the terrible trauma of my cancer experience. I responded with something like the following:

"When I look back now, I don't remember the trauma much anymore. I see the miracles and blessings and how much I've learned. I think any trial can become a blessing if we let it."

Of course, getting to this place of peace was no easy road. But as I look back through the last few years, I see how God put the right people and experiences in my path to bring me healing. And I know that I am safe in His hands.

"Behold, I have graven thee upon palms of my hands..." Isaiah 49:16

*****

We do not know what the future holds. But we know who holds the future. 

*****

"The center of His will is our only safety" --The Hiding Place

I do not know all the reasons why I got to have cancer. But I know if I walk with God, He will show me. And I will marvel at His plan.

I do not know when my baby will come. But I know we are both in His hands. And though I may be tired and huge, being in His hands is still the best place to be.

Nesting, Nesting, 1,2,3

Nesting around here is taking on different forms for each of us. I feel like I spend most of my time sitting around feeling pregnant and hot and eating lots of popsicles, pudding pops, and otter pops. When the occasional burst of energy hits I wash all the curtains in the house, reorganize closets, or prepare baby clothes.

Jake likes to hug and kiss my belly every day and tell the baby he loves her. (He asked if she could hear him. I, of course, reassured him that she can. After all, he is her only brother.)

Grace and Abby have caught on the baby-wearing trend and were recently seen caring for their "offspring" in this manner:

I don't know if we'll truly be ready when the baby comes. But we're enjoying the anticipation.

To the Moms at Storytime

I love taking my kids to story time at the library. Barring illness or major scheduling conflicts, we're there every week. I love librarians who work so hard to prepare worthwhile books, finger plays, songs, and art projects. And I love mom watching. There are a lot of awesome moms out there. But story time at the library this week touched my heart even more deeply than usual.

I saw a mom who I am casually acquainted with bring in her 19-month-old twins and her two older children. One of the twins has some special needs, so she signed the whole program for him...all while juggling her other children.

I saw a mom with an active little boy in a leg cast and a newborn try to help her son participate while still caring for her infant.

I saw another casual acquaintance who is the mother of a toddler and a special-needs 5-year-old son who can now walk with the assistance of a walker. Somehow she always manages to give her daughter love and attention while juggling the assorted needs of her son. I wonder if I would exhibit the patience, love, and grace she always manages.

I saw a former coworker helping her three little kids with the story time art project. Afterwards she took them to a park and read and snuggled with one of them on a bench while the others played. There's something heartwarming about a mom spending one-on-one time with a child.

As I watched one of these mothers leave the library with her little brood I smiled and called out after her, "You're doing a good job!" I wish I could hug every mother there and tell her the same thing.

Motherhood is consuming and exhausting with little moments of love, hope, and joy that make the sacrifices and fatigue completely worth it.

Watching mothers who are willing to dig deeper to find previously unknown levels of patience and love inspire me and fill me with hope for the world. As long as there are mothers who are willing to love and sacrifice, their children will light up the world with peace and love. And the world will be a brighter place because there was a dedicated mother there.

Life Is Good

Summer is here, it's hot, and I'm pregnant. This breaks down into previously unforeseen levels of popsicle consumption around our house.

Recently the kids brought their little plastic lawn chairs into the kitchen. And this is how I found Grace eating an otter pop one day this week.

Comfy chair. Cool house. Otter pop in your hands. Life is good.

Playing Jacks and Listening

Monday morning, approximately 10am: a knock at the door signaled the arrival of a neighborhood boy asking if he could play. We welcomed him in, and the usual chaos of a houseful of happily playing children ensued. A couple hours later I was fixing lunch when I heard him use the word "sexy" a couple times. I picked my jaw up off the floor and bit my tongue before barking out, "Excuse me, what did you just say?" in a harsh, demanding tone.

In my opinion, 6-year-old boys shouldn't know that word. I don't think he knew what he was saying. But I still don't want any of my kids exposed to that word for a long, long time. Call me archaic. I'm OK with that.

The next day I took the kids to play at a local museum that showcases life from an earlier era. It has a dugout for the kids to explore, an old "mine" for them to play in, a one-room school house, a quaint old country store, and a farm. My kids can spend hours pretending to milk cows, get eggs from the chicken coop, fish in the stream, play in the old kitchen or school room, or dig in the mine. I love the museum for its portrayal of a simpler lifestyle. The kids love it for all the hands-on exhibits.

So once they all got settled playing I looked for a place to sit down and doze (I mean, supervise the kids). I was feeling third-trimester tired and wishing I had a pillow and blanket to curl up somewhere, but that's not very socially acceptable at such facilities. Then Jake came up with a basket of kids toys from days gone by--jacks, a bean bag toss, etc. He wanted to play with me.

I was tired and my back was hurting, but I got up and played anyway. Perhaps because the language of neighborhood boys reminds me that my kids are growing up way too fast. Perhaps because all my kids have spring birthdays and as I watch them age another year, I feel time slipping through my fingers. Perhaps because I had recently attended Jake's kindergarten graduation and couldn't believe how the time had flown.

All too soon my children will be older, want less time around me, and spend less time listening to me. So while they are young I want to play with them when I'm too tired. I want to talk to them when they want to talk. I want to listen to them when they need me. I want to lay the groundwork now so maybe one day, when they've been exposed to things even worse than the word "sexy", they'll still be willing to listen.