Two.

Dear Timothy,

At two, you are perhaps the quirkiest kid I've ever encountered. You are fierce in your affections, extreme in your reactions, meticulous in all your endeavors. Almost every day, we catch ourselves saying, "What a funny kid!"

You love to be helpful. I have never seen a two-year-old help more successfully. You are my sous chef in the kitchen, pulling a chair up to the counter so you can stir, peel, or add ingredients. Unloading the dishwasher might be your next favorite task. You carefully sort and stack the bowls, nest the spoons, hand me things to put away. Your daddy says he has this coming to him. He was (and still is) very helpful and extremely thorough. Maybe you'll be an engineer. It doesn't stretch the imagination.

You are very mechanical, and you love to put together train tracks and build lego towers. But you enjoy just as much knocking them down. You are quite diligent about it. There is never one stone left on another. One minute, you are so committed to order, the next you are kidzilla. I asked your daddy the other day what it was in the soul of the boy that says, "Destroy!" He told me it's the other side of the "Build!" coin. Yin and Yang, I guess. Dr. Jekkyl and Mr. Tim.

Speaking of, you are getting to be quite the rascal. I see that mischievous grin shoot across that little chubby face of yours, and I know I'm in for it. Most of the time, you seem to break the rules simply for the thrill of it. You have started to hit your older sister, but it rarely seems to be motivated by anger. The look on your face is pure mischief, a satisfaction in doing the very thing we've told you not to do.  As I said, we're in for it.

Despite your occasional brutality, you are most often sweet to your sisters, especially the little one.  We were almost certain that you would disapprove of her presence in our family, but you adored her from the time we brought her home.  There are moments in the day, most notably after naptime, that you assert that you are the baby and it is you that should be held, but most often you giggle and say, "Juh!"("Genevieve!")

 
Did I mention that you really don't talk?  It's kind of strange, really.  You make lots of noises, and I know you are trying to say words, but all you get are really the first sounds.  Your pediatrician isn't too concerned; he seems to think that if your older sister talked less you would probably talk more.  He said to expect an explosion of language in the next three months or so.  It's really almost hard for me to imagine a world in which you talk.  You communicate pretty darn well by pointing, grunting, and/or taking my hand and using it to accomplish whatever it is you wanted (on your birthday you were moving my arm toward the iPhone in an effort to make me grab it for you).  I told your daddy the other day that your muteness is part of your cuteness.  He just rolled his eyes.

 

You are such a delight, Tim-Tim.  It has been such fun to discover your personality, to get to know you over the past year.  I love all of the little quirks that make you unique.  You drive me crazy with your constant busyness, your penchant for taking things apart, your tendency to scream when you don't get your way.  But I love you just the same and I always will.

Happy Birthday, little man.

Mama

Our Favorite Children's Books

I like good children's books.  One of the more fun parts of parenthood has been reading to our kids.  But I tire of books that are based episodes of TV shows (coughdoratheexplorercoughbobthebuildercough).  There is some good children's literature out there that sparks my kids' imaginations and is fun for me to read. It's been fun to discover (and rediscover) good books and great authors/illustrators. I thought it might be fun to collect some of our favorites here and get your input.

First, the classics:

Dr. Seuss--There is perhaps no author I enjoy reading aloud more.  He has so much fun with language.  We of course love The Cat in the Hat, but I have discovered some of his longer works are just as much fun.  My personal favorite is Horton Hatches the Egg, and Daniel loves The King's Stilts.

Bill Peet--If you are a fan of the underdog, you'll love Bill Peet.  His illustrations are fantastic. The Ant and the Elephant is my favorite so far, but there are something like 30 to choose from.

Shel Silverstein--Funny, funny poems.  Ava loves Where the Sidewalk Ends and A Giraffe and a Half.

Virginia Lee Burton--I love the detail in her illustrations.  We love Mike Mulligan and the Steam Shovel, Katy and the Big Snow, and The Little House.

Robert McCloskey--His illustrations are beautiful, as is the text.  Make Way for Ducklings, One Morning in Maine, and Time of Wonder are some of our favorites.

Graeme Base--Great Stories, Incredible illustrations.  The details in the illustrations are really fun to search out.  My two favorites are Animalia (an awesome way to learn the alphabet) and The Eleventh Hour (a mystery I haven't figured out yet).

 

Richard Scarry--Our kids love all the funny goings on in his books.  They are a little zany, but our kids especially love them.

Eric Carle-- The pictures.  That's all that needs to be said.

 

 Sandra Boynton--Her rhymes are lots of fun for little ones, and the illustrations are cute.  But Not the Hippopotamus is my personal favorite (probably because I see it as a metaphor for my life).

Some newer ones we've discovered:

Doreen Cronin--Click, Clack, Moo and Giggle, Giggle, Cluck get us giggling every time we read them.

Allison McGhee-- I love, love, love Someday (a book for every mom with daughters) and Little Boy (which everyone with a son should read).  Great books and beautiful illustrations by Peter Reynolds (who has also written some really fun books).

 Amy Krouse Rosenthal--Another new favorite.  We enjoyed Spoon, Yes Day (which Tim wanted us to read to him 10 times a day), and we currently have The OK Book from the library.

Other books we're enjoying right now:

Herve Tullet--Press Here.  Super fun, creative, and interactive book.

Deborah Underwood--The Quiet Book.  Very clever book exploring the "many different kinds of quiet."

Phyllis Root--The House that Jill Built--Aside from the fact that the main character is named after your truly, I love the creative illustrations and the pop ups and flaps in this book.  There is so much going on on each page.  The kids love lifting the flaps to discover what all the nursery rhyme characters are up to.

 
The Monster at the End of this Book--I'm not usually a fan of "character" books, but this one's a keeper.  It's very clever (Grover tries to nail pages together, build walls, to keep the kids from turning pages).  It's gets them giggling every time, and Mama too if I'm honest.

Patricia Thomas--There are Rocks in my Socks said the Ox to the Fox--This is a favorite from my childhood.  I'm not even sure if you could find it if you tried.  Luckily, my mom saved it, so I enjoy reading it to my kiddos.  I love the verse in it.

 What are some of your favorites?

Oh, Please No...

Ava is obsessed with princesses. Every day, many times a day, we are ordered, "Tell me [insert name of Disney princess here]."  We mostly oblige, but to make the stories more bearable (or perhaps just amusing to himself), Daniel has begun to add "and they had babies" after "happily ever after." 

Ava resisted initially, but has begun to eagerly chime in: "Ten babies!" A few nights ago, Daniel said, "Yeah, but not all at once.  One at a time, like Mommy and Daddy. First we had..." 

"Ava!" she replied.

"And then..." Daniel cued.

"Timmy!"

"And then..."

"Genevieve..."

"And then..."

"TWINS!"

That might just kill me. 

Song for a Fifth (or Third?) Child

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

~ Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

An Hour in the Life

12:40 p.m*.: Genevieve begins to drift off, and  I decide to try to lay her down in the crib.

12:44 p.m.: I race upstairs, sing a quick song to her, and plop her down.

12:48 p.m.: I am met by Ava at the bottom of the stairs. "I didn't color in the wall on purpose," she says. "Just how did you do it on accident?" I ask. " With a crayon," she answers. Oh.

12: 51 p.m.: I hear the baby crying on the monitor. I go scoop her up. Oh well. Another time.

12:55 p.m.: I have a talk with Ava and attempt to discipline her with a (hungry) baby in my lap.

12:58 p.m.: While praying for her (eyes closed; big mistake), Tim hits Genevieve on the head.

1:00 p.m.: I then discipline my almost two-year-old with the (hungry! screaming!) baby in my lap.

1:03p.m.: I settle in to feed baby G.

1:06 p.m.: The kids decide to play legos. They play happily for approximately 5 minutes.

1:11 p.m.: Crash! Scream! "Timmy destroyed my house!"

1:15 p.m.: I try to distract Timmy so she can put it back together.  We put the finished product out of Timmy's reach.

1:28 p.m.: I put baby G in the swing, and change Tim's dirty diaper.

1:30 p.m.: Tim climbs down and runs through the house crying, "De-duh-o! De-duh-do!" ("Destructo!  Destructo!"), in search of something to destroy.

1: 38 p.m.: I ask Daniel a discipline question over instant messenger and Ava begins eating the icing from the Valentine's Day cookies we made off of Tim's face. He screams and points to her mouth as if to say, "Hey! Give it back! I was going to eat that!"

1:40 p.m. I, oddly at peace in this chaotic scene, laugh. And declare it nap time.

*All times are fictional.  All events are not.

One Month

Dear Genevieve,

As I write, you are asleep on my chest.  This is your regular perch.

A friend once referred to your brother, asleep on the chest of a nursery worker, a "love lump."  That's how I think of you at this age. A love lump.  You are a little cuddle bug, happiest curled up in the arms or on the chest of your Daddy or me.  This might be partially a result of your Daddy taking every opportunity to lay you on his chest for a nap.  It might also be the result of the sickness that resulted in a three day hospital stay and made us unable to put you down for several days.  But, I think in part, it's just you.  You seem more content, less spirited, than your brother or sister.  I hesitate to conjecture, because I thought the same about your brother.  It's early yet; we'll see more of your personality come out in the weeks and months to come, as you get less droopy-eyed.

I've heard that third babies just have to learn to fit, to find their places in a family.  It seems that your place is, at this point, in my arms.  You sleep through sibling fights, the sound of hundreds of legos hitting the hardwood. your brother rubbing your head as if for good luck.  We are just surviving at this point, doing what we can until we settle into more of a routine.  I'm thankful that you've been so laid back about it.

As laid back as your personality has been, it seems that you have a flair for the dramatic. From your sub-two-hour entry into the world, to the diagnosis of meningitis at two weeks, you have kept us on our toes.  I hope this isn't any indication of how high-maintenance you're going to be. 

This first month with you has been harder than I anticipated.  We are more tired, physically and emotionally, than we would have ever thought possible.  But that's not to say that we are not thrilled to have you.   We named you Genevieve Grace because you are a sign of God's precious grace toward us, binding our family together in difficult times.  We still feel that way. 

And dear, even in our exhaustion, even on the sleepless nights, we are completely smitten with you.  Everyone here loves you more than words. We couldn't be happier you're with us.

Mama

Refections on Life with Three

Parenting is hard.  I forget that this is just how it is.  Everything in me wants to figure out how to fix it.  How do I get her to sleep in the crib? How to I keep her from screaming every time I lay her down? How do I get anything done when she insists on napping in my arms?  The answer is, I will.  Eventually.  There may not be anything that can be done now.  I may have to let her sleep on my chest for a while.  We may have to keep sleeping in shifts.  She may nap in the sling for a few months.  But as with everything, it's a season, and I need to be at peace with that.  We will do what we have to do to survive these months, then move on to surviving the next season. 

I love baby cuddles. We have been soaking up her cuddliness.  I am trying not to worry too much about whether we are "spoiling" her.  She will eventually have to sleep in her crib, but for now, we are enjoying how she melts into our chests and sighs.


I hate hospitals. That is all.

I have sweet kids.  They love their sister.  Ava loves to help change Genevieve's diapers and dress her.  Timmy brings me anything that he sees that belongs to her.   They both want to hold her, talk to her sweetly, and pat her head.  There might be a little jealousy at times when I can't give them exactly what they want when they want it, but mostly, they are thrilled with their little sister. 


I have exhausting kids.  Ava and Timmy play together pretty well now, but almost every game they play involves tearing apart the living room.  Cushions off the couches, every toy bin turned upside down.  They have also discovered how to push each other's buttons, and are getting really good at fighting.  They want to touch me all the time, they steal my phone out of my pocket and throw fits when I take it back.  Timmy pushes chairs all over the house, flipping light switches on an off, getting into everything, and regularly ramming me in the rear.  They drive me crazy sometimes, but as my sister-in-law recently said, "Kids will drive anyone crazy unless they open their arms and embrace the chaos."  These are great kids I have.  Ava, the precocious little sweetheart, a little light. Timmy, full of energy and humor and passion.  I am trying to show them grace in those moments when I just want to tie them to a chair.  They are just being kids.

My house should be messy right now.  I recently saw a quote that said, "Good moms have sticky floors, messy kitchens, laundry piles, dirty ovens, and happy kids." This may sound a little like a hallmark card, but I think there's a lot of truth in it.  I could follow them around all day trying to contain their chaos, but I would fail; I simply can't keep up with them.  In addition,  I would lose chances to read to them, play with them, love them.  As my other sister-in-law said, there is beauty in the mess that my house is in at the end of the day. "It is the sign of a day full of life.  It is the beauty of having [God's] children under [my] roof." I'm trying to let myself have a messy house.  



I get by with a little help from my friends.  Daniel's mom and my mom were both a tremendous help while they were here.  They helped with the kids, the laundry, the cooking, and almost every other household task you can imagine.  Our friends here have been a great help to me as we adjust to being on our own.  Friends and neighbors have brought us meals, sent encouraging text messages, called me to pray for me, watched the kids so I could go to the grocery store, met me for dessert just to give me a chance to get out of the house.   All of this has helped our family through an exhausting and difficult month.

I am selfish. Still.  There are so many times that I just want a few minutes to myself without someone screaming at me, pulling at me, demanding anything from me.  I get frustrated with their messes, their temper tantrums, their failure to obey.  God is showing me that this frustration and tendency to retreat reveals that I am about my kingdom instead of God's.  My children's sin is not first and foremost against me, but against God.  Their failure to submit to authority is important ultimately because it is a failure to submit to God's authority.  Beyond that, God put them in my care so that I could shepherd them when their behavior reveals their hearts.  I have to remind myself not to be irritated when he gives me those opportunities.


This exhaustion drives me to prayer.  I pray more when I am weak.  I suppose I am always weak, but I have felt that weakness more this month.  I've been praying for practical needs like sleep, but also that God would help me to love my kids more, to have a more sacrificial attitude toward them, to be patient with them, to show them grace.  I pray for their hearts, that God would change them and show them their need for Jesus.  I also pray that God would give me a heart of praise in a tiring season.  I've been praying that as Daniel sacrifices his sleep to serve me, that he would be able to focus at the office and serve his boss and his employees well. 


We will survive this.  We will.  God pours out grace.  We'll get through.

What's Going on with Genevieve?

Sunday night was brutal.  Genevieve objected to being laid down at all.  I kept trying, and she kept screaming.  I figured her Daddy, who had taken to sitting on the couch with her snoozing contentedly on his chest, had spoiled her.  Neither of us slept very much. 

Monday night was more of the same.  Early Tuesday morning, I noticed that she felt warm.  I took her temperature, which was at that point over 101.  We called the pediatrician when they opened, who said what we knew they would say: Take her to the ER.  They will do a full septic work up.  Urinalysis, blood work, spinal tap.  The works.  Hearts breaking for the morning we knew little Genevieve was about to have, we packed our bags (we knew we would be admitted) and headed to Northwest Community Hospital.

By the time we got to the hospital, her fever had fallen below the threshold of what they consider a fever (100.4). Regardless, after all of the poking and prodding, they confirmed that we would be admitted.  All of her initial screens came back clear, but they wanted to keep her under observation and start antibiotics in case it was a bacterial infection.  Although Genevieve was still irritable (and really, who wouldn't be?), we were given hope that she would be fine.  "Most likely you'll sit in the hospital room and be bored for 48 hours," the doctor said. 

Recovering from her tests

Around 5 pm, the pediatrician on call came in to tell us that the reading on her spinal fluid had shown an abnormal amount of white blood cells, which indicates infection.  "We're calling this meningitis," she said.  She explained that there are a number of viruses and bacteria that could cause the infection, but that she was most concerned that I was positive for Group B Strep and had not received antibiotics during labor.  She told us that we would be staying at least for 72 hours, probably longer.  She scared me to death. 

We didn't sleep much the first night because Genevieve was so irritable.  Any time we put her down, she started crying.  Daniel stayed over night and we slept in shifts.  By yesterday, it was clear that she was feeling better, but that she wasn't her normal self. 

Feeling much better!

She must have felt much better by last night, because she slept without being held for the first time in 3 or 4 days.  Five plus hours, in fact.  We all feel much more rested this morning.  She has been napping well and happy when awake.  The doctor that saw her this morning told us that no bacteria has grown in the blood cultures they took, which means that this is probably viral.  He told us that if the final reading comes back clean (which he expects) and if she continues to make improvement, going home tomorrow is a definite a possibility.  (A possibility, because, in my experience, doctors are very cautious about letting these little ones out of their sight).  He also said that there should not be any lasting detrimental effects from the meningitis. 

So here we are.  Praying that she is well enough to go home tomorrow.  Thankful for good medical care.  Planning to have our next baby in the summer.  ;)

Thanks for all the prayers offered up for her healing and for our peace.  We have felt them.

Our Beautiful Baby Girl

A (Very Short) Labor Story

I always tell myself that I'm not going to expect my babies to be early.  I always end up expecting my babies to be early.

I went to the midwife for my 36 week appointment mid-December, when she informed me that I was dilated to 4 cm.  4 cm?! I thought.  Surely I'm not going to make it another month!  My midwife told me to take it easy, rest if I started having contractions, keep that baby inside for another couple of weeks.

So I did what any obedient patient would do.  I went home and hosted a Christmas party for 30 something parents and toddlers the next day.

This proved insufficient to coax the baby out of me, however (not that I was really trying).  I did continue to have some light contractions throughout the next month.  Is this it? I wondered.  Could THIS be it? How about THIS?  But the contractions never became regular, and as I approached my due date, I began to doubt that I would ever go into labor.  I felt overdue long before my due date.  I sighed a lot. 

Then, the calendar ticked over to January 10th, my due date.  Almost at the stroke of midnight, I awoke to a very strong contraction.  Three or four minutes later, I had another.  I started timing them.  It quickly became clear that I was in active labor.

I began to wonder when I needed to wake Daniel up.   The next contraction hit.  NOW.  Now is when I need to wake Daniel up.  

Shortly after I woke Daniel, my contractions got closer together and even stronger.   I told him I was going to get in the bath to try to relax a bit.  "No you're not," he replied.  "You're getting in the car."  We called my midwife and told her that I suddenly seemed to be in hard labor.  She confirmed that we should come then, and in 15 minutes, we were out the door.  


Daniel ran the first red light we came to, and proceeded to drive 90 miles per hour on 53 and I-290 all the way to hospital exit.  "You don't need to drive 90," I said.  "Yes, I do," came his reply.  (He did.  His sense of things was a little better than mine at this point).  He ran another red light on Austin Blvd.  He made the 32 mile drive in 22 minutes.  Thank goodness it wasn't snowing. 

I continued to time my contractions throughout the drive.  The peaks were between a minute and half and three minutes apart, but they were overlapping at times.  All I wanted was to be able to relax.  We walked into the emergency room, and they put me in a wheelchair and called for someone to come get me.  After what seemed like an eternity, someone wheeled me up to the labor and delivery floor.  They monitored me for a few minutes, then called in my midwife, Mary.  She checked me and confirmed, "Yup, you're complete."

Immediately, they wheeled me into the alternative birthing room.  "Do you want to deliver here or on the bed?" Mary asked.  Deliver? I thought.  How are we already to this point?  After transferring me to bed, my water immediately broke.  I began pushing through contractions, and after being in the room for only 10 minutes and being in labor for just under two hours, Genevieve Grace was born.

I guess punctuality is important to her.