Introductions

The last two posts were about how much I appreciate the little moments with my older children. This post is to introduce our newest joy - I am so happy to find that all of our other four are excited, happy and loving toward the new baby brother in their midsts. The full birth story will come in the next few days, but here is the snapshot info for now!

Born at 0009 (that is 12:09 a.m.) on 

Saturday, April 23, 2009

weighing in at a scant 6 lbs., 15 oz., and 19 inches

 is our fourth boy.

With his proud Papa

And with Smeagol, Maestro, Bruiser, Buttercup and Grandma

Until his personality kicks in, he'll just be "Mr. Magoo." Already he brings us joy - can't wait to see what comes next!

Appreciating the Smallest Moments...

Here I continue the appreciation and recognition of my four wonderful children. The first part is posted here.

Smeagol was looking over my shoulder at some pictures I had e-mailed to the Grandparents. Maestro was labeled a "handsome boy," Buttercup was "Pretty Girl," etc. and then there was his picture in which he was labeled, "Goofy Boy" with the follow-up that I hoped it never changed about him.

He asked why he was "goofy" and enjoyed my answer when I pointed out that his shirt was a church shirt, partly tucked into Spiderman shorts, but only in front, and he had a huge goofy grin going. He takes some small delight in being goofy still. I know that will change as he gets older. It did for my brothers, it will for him.

Enjoying the Small Moments

The other day, Buttercup came to me while I was making dinner. She's two, and at a point where helping "make" dinner or pretending tea party is of high interest to her, so it was not unusual that she took out our smallest cutting board and wandered off with it. Until a short time later, when she returned, very pleased with herself, to show me her creation:

Crayon washes out - eventually - and it was only a cutting board,

Little Moments of Domestic Memory

Not pictures from my childhood - but of memories my own children may one day have of our "little" family!

I don't have many memories of my earlier childhood years, and what I do have are foggy and more like dreams than reality. Sometimes I question whether or not a "memory" really happened or is something that my mind made up somewhere along the way. I'm not sure what that says about my mental health, but for now I'll keep doing my Sudoku puzzles and learning new things and making new friends to help "strengthen" my brain. But this is a post about the force and power of one of my memories and how small moments from our childhoods can affect the courses of our lives.

Smeagol's Birthday Story

How terrible! I got so wrapped up in making an awesome birthday party happen for Smeagol's ninth birthday that I didn't put his birth-day story on here the way I did for Buttercup, or the way I had intended. So though this is a bit late, I am putting it up now. As I mentioned for Buttercup, these posts are largely for my children way down the line, but I am happy to share them, as I remember them, because some day I may not be able to tell the story any longer, for whatever reasons.

The earliest digital shot I could find of Smeagol - all the rest are on hard copy! He's about 3 here.

Our Smeagol is the only one of the four children that was born in a hospital with a "regular" Obstetrician (as opposed to a midwife) attending.

A Make-Ahead Mother's Day Gift

You might think it too early to start putting together a gift for Mother's Day in January, but what better to do (well, okay besides de-clutter your house!) during the remaining cold winter months than put together a gift that will help you know Mom better? Not only that, but this week there are fourteen weeks before Mother's Day. With this project, you need to come up with, and write out, 52 questions for Mom. If you start this week, that comes out to about two or three questions a week, and still give you time to get to the post office to mail it out. Work a little faster to make a second jar for your sweetheart!

In Appreciation of Mom

Not too long ago, I was yanked from a sound dream to my name being called, "MOM!"... "MOOOOOM!"

Grumble... grumble...

"I need to go potty."

Okay, so he is old enough that he doesn't need his hand held for this any more but for whatever reason the boys have all looked for that late-night (early morning!) reassurance that I'm still there when they need me - even for going to the bathroom. (Truthfully, by now, I go stand and wait, remind them to wipe the seat, put the lid down, flush the toilet and wash their hands...)