Boo Bear

Rex has gone by many names.  Baby Rex.  Bug-a-Boo.  Boo.  Boo Bear.  He answers to them all.  A small indication of how laid back and go-with-the-flow this third child is.

I remember so clearly the first few days with Rex in the hospital.  I just couldn't take my eyes off of him.  He looked so different than the other two.  I kept looking at him, just amazed at how adorable he was.  I guess a mother always feels her child is the most beautiful, but this was more than that.  He just seemed special from the onset, and I guess he was.

Rex's presence and existence has always been a bit more on God's time, and bit less on my schedule.  His conception was a surprise, as we did not think we were quite ready for #3 just yet. His delivery was scheduled for a Monday, he began his arrival the Friday before.  And while he seemed to be in a rush to get here, he's a had a laid back, I'll-get-to-it-when-I'm-ready attitude since he arrived.

To try to describe Rex would be a difficult feat that would undoubtedly be full of shortcomings...but I'll try anyway.  He's bouncing curls, a half crooked smile, and sock less Chuck Taylors, unless he's wearing cowboy boots.

He's a sweet boy handing out hugs and kisses, but a protective brother who shoves other kids off of their feet.

He's a comedian with a dry humor most adults can't master.

He sleeps more than any kid I know (14-16 hours per day).

He's always a bit dirty.

And he's an adoring fan of his brother and two sisters.

I've never seen a kid who loves ALL of his siblings the way Rex does.  He jumps at the opportunity to hang with his big brother.  He copies his every move, wrestles with him, and laughs the hardest when his brother tells a joke.  He wants nothing to do with "baby" toys, but only the kinds of toys Clinton is playing with.  When Clinton isn't home, Rex walks around say, "Tintin?  Where go?"

Rex is best friends with his big sister.  With only 20 months, 3 inches and 1 pound between them they are often mistaken for twins, and honestly I think they should have been.  They pal around together playing kitchen, doll house, or even pirates in the back yard.  Rex is always telling her stories as best he can, and he is happy to sit and listen to hers...even if they are full of wardrobe details, unicorn shenanigans, or updates on her latest ballet class.  He truly cares about her.

And he adores his baby sister.  It's been his first chance to be a big brother, and he is fulfilling the role flawlessly.  Rex kisses Luella every chance he gets.  He tells people how cute she is.  He lets no one touch her.  And he can often be found returning her paci to her mouth, patting her head to calm her down, or laying beside her filling her ear with baby babble.

It doesn't matter which sibling he sees, he always acts as if that's the one he's been waiting on.  He has yet to find a need for any outside friends, because he's completely content with the ones he lives with.

I've always felt Rex was a bit of an old soul.  He knows when someone is hurting and comes to their aid.  He knows when his sisters need protecting and stands his ground.  I have been able to reason with him since he was able to communicate.  He knows what he wants and doesn't concern himself with what he doesn't.  He knows how to appreciate a tender moment, and is often the creator of them.  And he loves to make people laugh.

I hope Boo is always as loving, kind, and thoughtful as he is now.  I hope he realizes what a treasure he is to us.  And I pray the world, and eventually some lucky lady, find themselves feeling blessed to know him.

Luella Bella Baby

People keep asking how we're doing.  Have you adjusted?  How is she sleeping?  Is she a good baby?  How is it with four?

Truth is--we're doing great.  We have adjusted.  Most nights she sleeps all night.  She's a great baby.  Having four is busy, but it's fun.

Rodney and I have commented to one another several times about how happy we are with four.  They love each other.  They play well together.  While there are frequent tantrums and spats, there is a lot of laughter.  And we feel complete.

We have had 11 weeks to get to know the newest member of our family, and now I'd like to share a bit of her with you.

We gave her the name Luella Jean.  Our kids all of have family names, with the exception of Heidi, which was my favorite book as a kid.  We liked the idea of keeping with a family name, but considered a number of names.  

Heidi Sage wanted to name her Sally.  We toyed with the idea of changing the spelling to Sallee so that the name "Lee" was included, which is a family name for both me and Rodney...but ultimately it just didn't feel right.  Rodney really liked the name Bailey, my Grammy's maiden name...but it has become so popular and Williams is so common, I was afraid there were probably already too many Bailey Williams in the world.  Clinton wanted to name her Courtney, he got vetoed for obvious reasons.  My dad really wanted me to honor his grandmother, Lee Ola.  I considered using Lola, which seemed to be an acceptable variation, but I still wasn't sure I was loving it.  I threw two non-family names on the table, Hanalee and Hyacinth; Rodney vetoed these.  Rex just called her BAY-beeeeeee.

We kept coming back to Luella.  An old name.  An uncommon name.  And a family name.  My great-great grandmother and one of Rodney's great aunts were both named Louella.  We didn't know our Louellas, but we didn't think they'd mind if we tweaked the spelling.

Jean is the most meaningful part of her name.  My Grammy's name is Jean.  She and I have always been quite close.  She is an amazing woman with an intriguing life story.  She has shared countless stories with me about her troublesome childhood, her adventures of mothering 4, her travels around the world, and her love for God.  I've always been blown away by her strength.  I hope my Luella Jean faces the world with the same determination my grandmother always has.

Luella's birthday is February 25th.  When we scheduled the induction it seemed like a relatively unimportant date.  Heidi Sage was born on my other grandmother's birthday.  Peggy Rose was born on March 26, 1934.  Heidi Sage was born on March 26, 2009.  I loved that they shared the same birthday. A few days before Peggy passed away we were talking on the phone and planning for her to come to Tennessee for her and Heidi Sage to celebrate their birthdays together in the spring.  I was heartbroken we never got to share that moment with her.

As I was sitting in labor with Luella at the hospital, I received a text from my Aunt Polly.  She shared a story with me about Peggy that suddenly made February 25th seem a lot more important, and a little comical.  Apparently, Peggy did not like putting her real birthday on things.  She had a "fake" birth date.  In order to keep her fake birth date consistent, she had a formula.  She took her real birthday of 3-26-34 and subtracted 1 from each number to create her fake birthday of 2-25-33...February 25th!

So my sweet girls share with my sweet grandmother both her real birthday and her fake birthday.  As I read the text from my Aunt Polly, I began to cry.   I was already sad she had never met Rex, but she did know about him and get to see his picture (he was just 10 days old when she passed).  It just felt like a sign from my grandmother that she knew about Luella, and in that moment I needed that.

Luella has found her role as 4th child suitable.  She is doted on by the kids all day long.  When I sit in the recliner with her, there is always at least one other kid in my lap talking to her.  Rex always wants to give her hugs and pet her head.  Heidi Sage loves to visit with her and sing her songs.  Clinton likes to hold her and kiss her head.  I love watching them love her.  It's a beautiful thing.

All the kids have nicknames.  Clinton is Buddy.  Heidi Sage is Sweetie, though it should be Sassy.  Rex is Boo.  And Luella has become Luella Bella.  I said it one day, the kids thought it was funny, and it stuck.  I hope she likes it!

In the past week she has been working hard at being less of a newborn.  She holds her head up really well now and is constantly trying to sit up out of her car seat.  She does lots of "swimming" during tummy time.  She gives us huge smiles.  And she is beginning to giggle and babble.

Her hair has made her popular among strangers.  We get stopped...a lot.  People like to make comments about her hair and then dive into further conversation.  Oh, look at that beautiful baby!  Can you believe all that hair?  Did you have lots of heartburn?  Is this your first?  Your FOURTH?  You don't look old enough to have four kids.  How old are your others?  Oh wow, you must be really busy.  Uh, duh.  And I need to get a move on because Daddy is at home with the other three and I told him I'd be back in 30 minutes...ha ha ha. Ha. Ha.

While there is a part of me that is so excited about never being pregnant or postpartum again, there is another part of me that is sad to see my days with a baby slowly (but somewhat quickly) dwindling.  I get excited the nights she decides she needs a midnight snack.  It's time we just sit and cuddle.  After she eats, I rock her and we usually fall asleep in the recliner together for a little while.  I love listening to her tiny breaths.  And smelling her baby shampooed hair.  And feeling her little hand gripping my finger.

These last few weeks have been great.  I wouldn't change a thing.  We are so blessed.

Their Hearts Will Break, And That's Okay

I went to hear Madelyn Swift speak a few years ago, and is with most information I'm presented with, I walked away retaining only one small nugget of information...but it has served me well in my short six years of parenting.

"You want your children to experience pain, or they will never experience empathy." (paraphrased)

As a parent, I have a responsibility and an undying maternal instinct to want to protect my children.  My days are filled protecting them from sickness, genetically engineered foods, desires to jump off of large pieces of furniture, inappropriate TV programming, household cleaning products with scary warning labels, spiders, each other, and even themselves.  While God is their ultimate guardian and protector, I'm doing all the hands on work with instinctive urgency and a few minor panic attacks.

One area where I find myself taking a step back is their exposure to emotional pain.  Barring emotional scarring--I want my kids exposed to emotional lows, because we all know they are overwhelmingly exposed to emotional highs.  I guess you could say I'm aiming for well-balanced children.

Their emotional lows are far from real lows at this point and more just learning how to cope with the real world on a day to day basis.  Or more importantly, that the world does not revolve around them.

Clinton finds himself at a low when he's losing some type of athletic competition.  He. Can't. Stand. It.  He wants to be the best at everything and win every time.  I see massive amounts of athletic potential in him.  I hope he becomes a world class athlete, but I hope it doesn't come easy.  I hope he has to work hard for it.  I hope he loses some, and learns to lose with grace.  I hope he embraces the challenge of fine tuning his craft in order to be the best.  I hope he develops a respect for the game, whatever it may be, and all the hard work each athlete puts into it.  And I hope Rodney and I are there to guide him through the emotional struggles he'll endure, but never shield him from them.

Heidi Sage finds herself at a low when a friend doesn't play with her on the playground.  When she starts to tell me about who didn't play with her that day, I just start to have horrific middle school flashbacks of girls being mean to girls.  I have to remind myself we're not there (yet) and find ways to encourage her.  We've had endless discussions about how we want everyone to be friends and that she can be friends with everyone.  We don't have to have one exclusive friend.  We talk about what each girl in her class has to offer as a friend or what makes them special like she's special.  I hope she occasionally finds herself on the outside, so that when she's in the "in" group, she's welcoming to those who are standing where she's stood.  Truthfully, I hope she's always brave enough to stand on the outside...and make it look good.

Rex finds himself at a low when we run out of yogurt.  I don't feel like any of us should have to endure this emotional low with him, so we're set up on Amazon Subscribe and Save with monthly bulk shipments sent right to the door.  Seriously...Glory to God, Amen!

Luella's lows are more about being a fourth child and having to wait her turn, even if it's just for a new diaper or nursing.  She'll come to learn waiting her turn will be more of a norm, and should not really be considered a low.

In all seriousness, I hope all of their personal struggles allow them to become empathetic to others they find traveling one of their familiar up hill paths.  I hope they reach out a hand, offer encouragement, or say a prayer.  I would find ultimate pride in knowing they even went as far as to make a sacrifice to make someone else's struggle a little more bearable.

But lately, I'm finding personal experience and personal pain are not the only things my children are going to be exposed to.  They also need to see real world problems.  Their hearts need to break for those in situations we've never been in, or can't even imagine being in.  Their responses need to be those of action, not just news absorbing idleness.  I want them to feel connected to another's pain for no other reason than knowing they are a fellow creation of God.

And I don't want them so sheltered from the world's problems that they are ultimately overwhelmed with the world later.  I want them to know now that there are problems, and if we look, maybe we can help be part of the solution...or simply a bright spot in a dark situation.

This month has brought a range of situations to discuss with our children.  The presence of evil with the Boston Bombings.  The overwhelming sadness with the death of a young girl in Clinton's school.  And the devastation of the West Explosion.

We've let our kids watch some of this on the news.  Enough so, that I found "X"s drawn on all the doors of the kids' wing where Clinton had gone in looking for survivors and wanted to let the other police know their rooms had been searched.  (Oopsie...maybe too much exposure.)

We've talked about the death of sweet Halle.  Up until her death, Clinton was of the firm belief that only old people could die.  During Halle's brief illness, the school had rallied for her recovery.  There were red ribbons on the buses, red ribbons on back packs, a big sign in the front of the school, and the kids were wearing red.  After she passed, the discussion was imminent.  We kept it brief.  We kept it simple.  We let him ask questions.  And we left no doubt our belief in God, Heaven, and eternal life.  Heidi Sage still walks around looking for her at the grocery store, the park, all around town.  The true concept of death is not yet within her grasp.

We're still contemplating the discussion of evil.  At airports we've talked about "people will take you and you'll never see me again if you don't stay close", but the idea of telling them there are people who will just walk in and take out a large group of people seems a bit heavy for their little shoulders.  It's a bit heavy for my shoulders.  In fact, we never even let them catch a glimpse of the Newtown news.  I just told Clinton, "You know there really are bad guys, right?  And you know you can't fight them like they do in the cartoons, right?  If you see a bad guy, you RUN as fast as you can and get help."

One of my favorite quotes is from Mr. Rogers, "When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping.'"  Could there possibly be a better way to teach kids to view the world, and God's hand in it?  There are ALWAYS helpers.  Evil, devastation, and sadness are there...but there are people running in to help clean up, help pick people up, help lighten the load.

I didn't feel there was much we could do for Boston.  There wasn't anything we needed to do for West. The great people of Texas stepped in and overwhelmed them with supplies, food, and money.  (I've never been so proud to be a native Texan.)

But we could do something for Halle's family.  It was a family affair.  We made dinner for her parents and her aunt and uncle.  We told the kids what we were doing and why we were doing it.  Clinton and Heidi Sage were eager to help.  I already had an extensive menu planned out, but Clinton really felt it necessary to make them brownies, too.  It seemed important, so we made them.  We spent two days making a variety of foods.  Heidi Sage was so proud to help deliver the food.  She wanted to help make them feel "bedder".

I share that, only to share this...my kids wanted to be a bright light.  They were genuinely sad about a girl we had never met and her devastated family that we did not know.  When Clinton insisted he make them brownies himself, my heart just about burst.  When Heidi Sage said she was sad for them, I shed a little tear.  Because maybe Rodney and I are getting part of this parenting right!

Sure, our kids have occasional smart mouths.  Sure, our kids struggle to hear our instructions about dirty clothes on the floor the first 27 times.  Sure, our kids can throw Broadway quality tantrums.

But they have love for others!  What more can a mother ask for?  A nap and a shower, maybe...but really not much else.

I hope to continue to have open discussions with my kids about their pain.  About others' pain.  About the world's pains.  And I hope to continue to show them the work and love of God in the midst of it all. And I hope their hearts break and their hands go to work in the name of God.

Glory be to God.  May the glory always be to God.

We're Not New to Newborns

We've now had Luella home for over 6 weeks.  As it has been with all the kids, we feel like she's always been here because it's hard to imagine that we ever lived without her.  She fits right in and everyone just adores her.

It's funny how different the fourth newborn feels coming home versus the first one who came home 6 years ago.

Six years ago a baby would cry and any and every adult in the house would jump and run to make the noise stop.  Nothing ever got accomplished.  Today a baby cries and no adult or child even flinches.

Six years ago a baby slept in our room. Today a six year old is often still in our room and a newborn sleeps in her own room.

Six years ago a baby had a closet packed with clothes purchased throughout the pregnancy by me, my mother, my sister, and lots of friends.  Today a baby has a packed closet of hand-me-downs thanks to some generous friends who responded to a FaceBook request.

First borns get over 10,000 pictures taken in their first year.  Fourth borns get a lot less.  First borns get baby books.  Fourth borns don't.  First borns get to wear "outfits" every day.  Fourth borns wear pajamas...every day...sometimes the same pair for several days.  First borns get lots of textbook parenting.  Fourth borns get experienced parenting.  First borns are read to in the womb and every day thereafter.  Fourth borns (and third borns) have to get old enough to bring the book to you.

But fourth borns get just as many kisses.  Parents dream just as big for them.  They have lots of "helpers" doting on them.  There is just as much love for them as the first, second, and third.  They have calmer, more laid back parents.  And they will never be alone...ever.  (Because their mother has already birthed an arsenal of play mates for them...you're welcome!)

And since we know this is our last one, we are soaking up the newborn moments like we never have.  Sometimes it feels like the days are just slipping through our fingers.  Her squinty newborn eyes are already gone.  Her (semi) tiny newborn cry is gone.  Her jerky newborn movements are getting under control.  Her NB size clothes have already been given away.  Too fast.

...but we're not crying over it either.  We've already been enjoying her new found smiles.  We love her little coos.  And we are so excited to see what type of personality blossoms out of her...observing and comparing our kids' personalities fascinates us.  We see pieces of so many of our family members in our kids.  Each of them amaze us in different ways.

So, no, we're not new to newborns.  But we're new to fourth borns.  And we're new to Luella.  We look forward to every day God gives us to love her, enjoy her, and learn about her.  As one of His special creations, she's sure to amaze us.

I Don't Want to Forget This

...nor do I want to miss it.  I'm behind on house cleaning.  I'm behind on laundry.  I'm behind on birthday party planning.  I'm behind on emails.  I find myself getting up just early enough to start a load of the said laundry, pack lunches, make breakfast, get kids shuffled to their destinations, and if I'm lucky I've showered and gotten myself halfway dressed--though it was probably with something I grabbed off of the closet floor.  The evening seems just as hectic.  There's dinner to make and clean up, baths for the babes, homework for the Kindergartener, books to read, and kids to get in bed--which sometimes feels like an entire day's work.  I find myself falling into bed with a mental to-do list full of boxes unchecked and a body that feels about 100 years old.

Somewhere between the morning and evening craziness I find myself trying to be ever present with my children.  I feel responsible for their emotional development, the well-rounding of their personalities, instilling a love for God and Jesus in their hearts, making them feel they always have a safe place, and trying to allow them the freedom to become their true self--not some product of a society with an agenda.  And all of that is crammed in with meal planning, grocery shopping, doctors appointments, volunteering at schools, dance lessons, soccer practice, trips to the library, bill paying, car repairs, supply gathering for school projects and parties, Bible study, budget managing, house cleaning, play dates, blah blah blah...

It's fair to say my plate is full.  I am mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted every day.  Among the list of other things, I'm behind on my blog.  By over a year, I think.  But there's a new baby.  The other three kids of have moved into new roles at home, at school, and in their activities. And Rodney and I are loving it and each other.  There's a part of me that wants it documented...even if there's not time for it.  I want it to be something for my kids to look back on should they ever have questions.  Possibly something for my daughters to look back on as they venture into their own motherhood journey.  Definitely something for me to look back on when the kids are all gone, the house is quiet, and I need a reminder of how hard--yet wonderful--it was so I can appreciate that season for what it will be.

So... I'm venturing back to blogging.  For myself, mostly.  Also, for my long distance friends and family who like having a front seat to our little dramatic comedy.  And, of course, for my kids.

It may be slow.  Somewhat scattered.  But it'll be here.  And I'm looking forward to it.  We have lots to talk about...

Trains!

We have a really nice park here that has different exhibits throughout the year.  In December they had trains.  It was a huge train setup that I have no pictures of, but trust me it was amazing.  We went two different times.  The first time I didn't even remember my camera...the second time I only managed to remember taking a couple of pictures.

Here is Heidi Sage being her usual sassy self.  There was a ladybug train that was her absolute favorite.  I think she chased it around for a good hour.

Here's Clinton and one of his besties, Hutch.

And here's Rex who was forced to stay in his stroller most of the time because it was muddy that day.  In order to keep him appeased, we kept him full....of Cheetos.

Christmas!!

We had such a great Christmas this year.  Such a great Christmas.

My parents decided to drive up so they could bring me my piano that my Mama Peggy left to me.  Knowing my parents would be here and that my piano was coming was pretty exciting...BUT THEN...but then I found out my Grammy and Grampy were coming.  I was "soo excited"--as Clinton would say.

I was excited for myself, but I was also excited for them and my kids.  They usually only see us when we're visiting Texas.  My kids are usually tired from an interrupted schedule and they're a little off from being out of their element.  They also just get to see Grammy and Grampy on day trips...and sometimes it takes my kids a while to warm up.

So...this was a great chance to my kids and their great grandparents to really get to spend some time together and get to know each other.  When my kids are rested and comfortable in their environment and had a day or two to warm up to their guests, they can be quite fun.

We did all kinds of fun things while they were here...

...we skyped with family in Indonesia.

...we spent lots of time decorating all of our packages wrapped in my beloved brown Kraft paper.

...lots of time.

...but it was fun.  We all sat at the table and worked on them.  It's not one of our family get togethers  unless there are at least 7 craft projects to work on.

A tree surrounded by masterpieces that would be ripped to shreds the next day.

One of the highlights of the visit for me was making Christmas dinner with my grandmother.  My grandmother and I talk about food and cooking a lot.  We kind of love it.  And I loved having a chance to cook with my grandmother again.

A close up of our pork loin masterpiece.  It was UH-mazing.

Then it was time to try to get some pictures.  We, of course, never remember to do these things when we're all dressed up.  Instead we wait until the night before when everyone is ready for bed and our guests are getting up to leave early the next morning...but we had to get pictures regardless.

Four Generations--Great Grammy (Jean), Bebe (Deborah), Mommy (me!), and Clinton, Heidi Sage, and Rex

The boys attacking me.  I already have nightmares of how this is going to play out in a few years when they're combined weight will be more than mine.

Me and my Grammy.  Love her.

Me and my Grampy and Grammy.  Two of the best grandparents a girl could ask for.