I was going to post my fair-well message to all my readers as I have failed miserably since the baby was born to keep up with my blog.  I had decided that my time is spread too thin to maintain the blog anymore, so therefore, I needed to let it go and say goodbye forever.

HOWEVER, I have made the decision, for the time being, to just re-run a few of my first posts, when perhaps many of you were not readers yet, and give myself just a little more time before deciding whether or not to let this go for good.  Perhaps, with a few re-run, early addition posts, and some extra time under my belt, I will get better at managing the 6 children and may find some free time to get back to the writing that I so enjoy!

In the mean time, please excuse a post here and there that you may have already read, and wish me luck on finding this thing that everyone keeps talking about…..I think it’s called “Balance”!  Have any of you ever heard of it…and if so, how do I get some???

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It is officially summer vacation in our home and I cannot even begin to articulate how elated I am about that declaration!  My children have emptied their desks and brought home every single nub of eraser and inch long pencil they have accumulated at school over the past year.  All the artwork that has adorned the walls at school are now scattered across my kitchen just awaiting their placement on either the fridge, cupboards, or the ever-esteemed patio doors.

I went grocery shopping yesterday so I am well prepared (for at least the first 3 days) for all the elaborate breakfasts we will make together that we don’t have time for during the school year.  The refrigerator is stocked up with all the essentials for our backyard cookouts.  The cupboards are brimming with all the treats and goodies needed for the million snack breaks my children will have to take “or we are just going to die of starvation if we have to wait for dinner, mom!”  And the freezer is full of those wonderful and most essential parts of summer…the freezy pops!  I just cannot wait to start picking up those empty plastic sleeves all over the yard and the snipped off ends lying randomly all over the kitchen counters!

Summer is truly my favorite season and it has little to do with the weather.  I can’t even tell you how nice it is to be “off” for the summer!   As a stay-at-home mom, it’s like reliving your summer vacations as a child growing up.  And I’m not insinuating that having the kids home all day, every day is easy.  I’m sure I will need to go back and read this post roughly two weeks into summer to remind myself about how much I have been eagerly awaiting this time.  When I have heard my millionth “I’m board!” and my whistle is broken already from playing referee, I know I will need to practice my deep breathing and remember how I long for this time with my children.  Aside from the normal chaos with having 6 children under the same roof 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for approximately 3 months, our lives are truly much more enjoyable and relaxing during summer break.

The biggest plans we make are going to softball and soccer games, having campfires, and taking long walks through the nature center.  Going swimming at the local pool, hitting up every zoo in the area, and exploring the wide range of state parks are our biggest missions during these special and limited summer months.  Staying up late at night to roast marshmallows and count the stars, lying in the grass trying to identify cloud formations, and slathering on the sunscreen before heading to a new beach we’ve never explored before are moments that simply cannot be matched by any other time of year.

There are no tests to study for…no homework to eat up our evenings together.  I don’t have to share my children with their teachers.  I don’t have to spread myself so thin trying to volunteer for everything the school needs help with.  No running ragged to practices and extracurricular events.  It’s just us….and we have all the time in the world to do whatever we want to do.

Not only do I get the much-needed time with my children without the hustle and bustle of the outside world, but they get the time with each other.  They get reacquainted with their siblings and have the time to reinforce the bond that can only be formed between brothers and sisters working together to build the best sand castle on the beach or making tent forts in the living room, on a rainy day, with couch cushions and blankets.

We create the best memories during this time of year, and I’m so blessed to be home with my babies for these few precious but fleeting months of summer!

I do believe this post will be my most difficult to pen in quite awhile. I have been trying to create the first draft in my mind since the day of my son, Emery, was born, but I always get overwhelmed with emotion and end up deciding to put it on hold for the moment. Well, I realized today that it’s now been nearly 3 weeks since his birth and it is time to try and find the right words to adequately describe his birth day.

Friday, March 26, 2010 our lives were forever changed. With the birth of my 6^th child, my heart has been irrevocably altered. Just when I believed I could not possibly love any more than I already did, God helped Emery come into this world and in that instant; I could actually feel my heart expanding. The best part of having children is that God never puts a limit on how much love our hearts can hold. He just helps the heart expand so you can hold even more love than you ever thought possible.

My older 4 children had spent Thursday night at their dad’s home. When I said my goodbyes to them that evening, I held them a little longer…..squeezed them a little tighter. When they finally pulled away from my embrace, they each looked at me like I was nuts because after all, they go to their dad’s house all the time so why was I being so “weird” about it this time. They knew I was having the baby the next day, but what they didn’t know…what they could never realize at their young ages…is how deeply I love them or what they mean to me!

I went in at 7:30am on Friday morning and was actually a few minutes late because we stayed at home a little too long trying to explain to Grandma, who was staying at the house to care for Miss Natalie while we were in the hospital, every last detail of how Natalie’s life typically runs. And as most parents tend to do, we completely forgot that she had raised my husband and he managed to come through childhood with flying colors, so the odds were in Natalie’s favor that Gram could hold down the fort for 2 days. So after all the explaining was through (complete with a 2 page, typed reference guide just in case she forgot anything I had just told her)….I kissed my baby girl goodbye knowing that our lives….her life…was about to change forever.

We got to the hospital and checked in. Things started kind of rough and to be quite honest, it was one of the most difficult labors I have ever experienced. It was the little things that seemed to go wrong. My doctor came in to break my water. The hope was that with me already being 3 cm dilated and 70% effaced, all it would take is my water to break to bring on the contractions and kick off my labor. But it wouldn’t break. That’s correct…you read that right. He couldn’t get my water to break! Have you ever heard of such a thing? I know I hadn’t. He went up there with his rather large crochet needle and after scraping around in there like he was carving a pumpkin, he said he couldn’t get it to break because the baby’s head was right there and he didn’t want to poke around too much and risk hitting the baby’s head!

So, we went with option #2, which was to start an IV and administer Pitocin. Another relatively easy task; however, it took 2 nurses and 4 very painful prods with needles to even get my IV started. What normally would have taken 5 minutes turned into nearly an hour long production and I had bruises on my arms that made me look like a heroin addict!

The IV was finally in place, the Pitocin was flowing by 9am, and I just wanted to walk the halls with Corey as we had done with Natalie’s labor. Another normal event for labor…walking the halls to get the contractions rolling, but instead, I ended up taking 3 laps around the floor and then the nurses had to put me in bed for the rest of the labor. The monitors I was hooked up to would not track the baby’s heart rate like they were supposed to if I moved AT ALL! So walking became out of the question and even sitting up or changing positions in bed ended up being off limits. Once they got the monitor in place enough to pick up his heart beat, I had to sit as still as possible in order not to lose it again. And as many of you mothers out there know, sitting in one position for an extended period of time when in labor, makes for a much more uncomfortable and painful labor indeed!

After several hours, I decided to go ahead with an epidural to relieve the pain. Without being able to move much and with the Pitocin being increased every 15 minutes or so, I had decided I wanted some pain relief so the anesthesiologist was called to my room. Now, I had a problem with my epidural during Natalie’s birth so I was very nervous about this to begin with. I asked the nurses before the doctor arrived about how good he was, and I was told by several nurses that this particular anesthesiologist was the best of the best! I sighed a huge sigh of relief and confirmed my decision for the epidural.

And this is where the fun really began. For some unknown reason to me, the nurses, or the doctor, he could not get the catheter that is inserted into the spine positioned properly. He went through an entire tray of needles and supplies. I had to make him stop after numerous attempts because I could not stand the pain any longer…the pain from the needles he was sticking in my back, not the contractions I was having. We decided to check my cervix to see how dilated I was. If I was far enough along, we were going to stop trying to administer the epidural and just do the birth the old fashioned way. Unfortunately, I was only at 5 cm and I was so panicked that I wouldn’t be able to make it through the rest of the labor without pain relief, that I actually let this maniac try one more time to get the job done. Looking back, I wish I would have had more faith in my ability to handle the pain on my own, but fear drove me to let the lunatic hit me again with another needle. It finally worked this time, but when all was said and done, it had taken him SEVEN attempts with large needles going into my spine…SEVEN different attempts to get the catheter in the right spot. You know it was a rough day when the doctor himself looks at you and says,

“I have only had one patient, other than you, in 25 years where this has happened. I don’t smoke, but I think I need a cigarette after that one!”

Well, if he thought he needed a cigarette, just imagine what I needed at about that time!

And then things went from painful to excruciating because the epidural only “took” on the left side of my body!!! I couldn’t feel my left side at all, I was completely numb, but I could feel every single contraction on my right side. So after all the pain I went through trying to get the epidural administered, I was still going to have to go through this labor naturally anyway…at least on the right side of my body.

Looking back, I am actually glad it only worked on one side because I can finally say I know what labor and delivery feels like from start to finish. It was truly the most pain I have ever experienced in my life….more pain than any other birth….but I would endure that kind of pain a thousand times over to end up with such an amazing gift at the end of it all.

At 3:10pm on Friday, March 26, 2010 Mr. Emery Lee Sass came into this world weighing 9lbs 4oz and 19inches long. That’s correct….NINE POUNDS, FOUR OUNCES!!!

As many of you know, we didn’t know what we were having, so the moment he was out, I heard my husband yell, “It’s a boy! It’s a boy!” And I was flooded with emotion…joy, excitement, and relief that my baby boy was finally here. He was here and he was healthy. He was perfect in every single way.

I will never forget the moment the doctor placed him on my chest and feeling his warm skin against mine or hearing my husband’s declaration of gender. I will never erase the image of watching Corey hold his son for the very first time. It literally moved me to tears to be part of such an amazing moment in time.

God had somehow loved me enough to grant me yet another miracle. I know I don’t deserve him….I don’t deserve such an amazing gift, but he’s here and I will forever be grateful for God’s good grace.

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I have now written this several times over….deleted it…rewritten it….edited it to death….and have come to the overwhelming conclusion that I am utterly hopeless in my attempt to describe something there are no words for. I simply cannot put down on paper what this kind of love feels like. I am incapable of describing to you the vastness of the experience or the immense grasp this little boy now has on my heart.

I am unable to articulate my amazement every time I look at his tiny little fingers and toes….

My joy when he opens his eyes and I can see that he knows I’m his mama….

The awe I feel whenever I witness my older children interact with him as if he has been in our lives forever….

My intense gratefulness I have for God’s grace in giving me yet another perfect being to love and care for…..

As I said, where the words I’ve written here today have failed me…I pray that the love I feel will speak volumes to my son and while I may not be able to articulate my feelings with words…
Emery will somehow know what I am unable to say.

I enjoyed such a laugh the other day with another mom whom I pass each morning bringing our kids to school.   We are both running just a few minutes late, on most mornings, so we always drop our children off at the front doors instead of the back doors.

The back doors are reserved for those children who get to school BEFORE the first bell rings….clearly not a door we see very often.  My kids are rarely tardy, as we seem to make it to school sometime between that first and second bell, but we struggle to beat that first bell.  I always wonder why they even have the first bell if the kids are not really late until after the second bell. I can only assume it’s for mothers like me! I also wonder why it is that we can never seem to leave the house just 5 minutes earlier each day to make it to those back doors. I guess just another mystery that will need to go unsolved for today.

Anyway, I often feel an unspoken comradery with this other mom whom I see running in the same “just 5 minutes late” circle as I travel in.  It almost makes me feel better to know that I’m not the only mother on the planet who just can’t get out the door in time each day.

So the other day when I saw her (at the school’s front doors) helping her son out of the car with a rather large box….she was wearing cropped pants, hunting socks, and clogs….I just smiled to myself and realized that the morning “outfit” is just another thing we seem to have in common. As I have mentioned before, I adore my sleep and I’m also a night owl….so early mornings and I do not see eye to eye. I wake up just in time to get my children up, ready, fed, and out the door leaving no time for me to primp and prime myself for the day. I usually drive them to school in my PJ’s (sweat pants and a t-shirt); my hair pulled back in a ponytail or a baseball hat, and some sort of footwear….typically whatever slippers are sitting by the back door. I take care of getting ready for the day once I arrive back home and they are dropped off at school. So, seeing my friend out of her car….dressed as I do each morning….I couldn’t help but laugh and empathize with her situation.

You see, when you drive your children to school in such disarray each morning, the most dreaded thing you can hear out of your child’s mouth in that moment when you pull up to the school doors is, “Mom, aren’t you going to help me carry in my Science project?”..….or book project….or any kind of project that requires you to exit the car and expose your attire to the rest of the world. In those moments, you want to shoot yourself for not getting up early enough to at least throw on a bra or put on a pair of real pants. You want to lovingly strangle your child for not mentioning to you before you left the house that he or she would need help into the school with the project. And you also vow to never leave the house again without being completely ready for the day…which lasts for about a week.

You basically just want to sink deeper into your seat and pretend as though you did not hear the pleas from the back of the car. But thanks to the persistence of your child:

you make your way out of the car

fly around to the other side of the vehicle

grab the damn poster

start praying out loud to God that nobody pulls up while you dash the 15 feet into the school

you drop the poster inside the front doors

and then make a mad dash back to your car.

And I believe it was at some point during the audible prayer to God that I wheeled up and caught my dear friend standing by her vehicle, holding the box for her son, and eagerly encouraging him to hustle up out of the back seat so they could run for cover.

I just smiled and waved at her….fully knowing how she was feeling at that moment, and then didn’t think twice about it until I received a message from her later that day via FaceBook. She mentioned to me that she wasn’t trying to start a new trend in the fashion industry with her cropped pants and husband’s hunting socks….that she was just taken by surprise when her son asked for her help in carrying in his project. I laughed so hard when I read that message because so many of us moms…especially stay-at-home moms…have been where she stood that morning!

I tried to negate her worries by sharing a similar story of my own because just the day prior to that event, I had lost track of time and realized I was going to be late picking the kids up from school. In my haste, I threw on my husband’s pair of size ELEVEN slippers and darted out the door. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the several errands that I had to run immediately after picking the kids up that day. So there I was…darting in and out of 2 grocery stores, 1 gas station, and the local Chamber of Commerce office in my husband’s SLIPPERS! And the worse part for me was that it was 3:30pm in the afternoon….I had all day to get myself ready and still managed to run out the door only prepared to be seen from the waist up!

So, to my favorite “front door” mom….I thank you sincerely for brightening my day with such a blog worthy story.

And rest assured that many of us are right there with you each morning…..presentable from the waist up and running just 5 minutes late!

Today I would like to write about my oldest son, Bailey.  We celebrated his 12th birthday just a couple of weeks ago and I have yet to take the time to pay homage to his birth.  Therefore, without further ado…I want to take a moment to reminisce about his birthday and the young man he is becoming.

My first child, Kylie, came into this world kicking and screaming after TWENTY hours of labor and an hour and half of pushing. So when the doctor told me that she was going to induce me with Bailey, I went into sheer panic mode.

I will never forget the night before his birth. I was sitting in the glider rocker placed in a corner of our small apartment living room, and I was sobbing. I don’t think up to that point, I had ever felt more scared of anything in my life. For me, the transition from having no children to one child was not nearly as difficult as the transition from one child to two. I was about to be outnumbered and I was terrified that I would not be able to handle it. There is only 17 months between my oldest two children so I really couldn’t wrap my brain around how I was going to manage a toddler and a newborn at the same time. I mean, what was going to happen when I need to go to the bathroom and they were both in need of my care????!!!! Seriously, these were the kinds of things I was fretting about while I rocked and cried hysterically all night in that chair. Looking back, I can laugh at my silly fears, but at the time…they were very real…and truly terrifying.

There was also the fear of labor and delivery that loomed in my heart that night. Being induced comes with the convenience of being completely “prepared” for the arrival of your new baby, but it also comes with the pesky knowledge that you are indeed going to push a child the size of a large watermelon out of a very small part of your body….and that moment will begin precisely at 6am tomorrow morning!

For me, ignorance is bliss! With my first pregnancy, I was induced as well, but I had no idea what I was in for. But this time around….no….this time I knew just how ugly labor and delivery could be, and I was paralyzed with fear over knowing how intense and painful the next day was going to be for me! So I sat rocking and crying and praying that God would just find a way to keep this child inside me indefinitely…or at least until Kylie was 10 years old when I wasn’t going to feel so outnumbered ( or so I thought).

But fortunately, God knew better than I did, and I was induced the next day. And I cannot even put into words what a different experience his birth was compared to my first go ‘round with labor and delivery. My labor went from 20 hours to 11 hours. My pushing went from an hour and a half to 15 minutes! My epidural was administered after 8 hours of labor with Bailey instead of 12 hours with Kylie. I specifically remember hearing the nurse say, “Look at you…you are so happy and smiling like you are not even in labor.”

She was right. I was smiling because what I did not know going into my son’s birth was that each labor and delivery is very unique even if that child is coming out of the same body. So just because my daughter needed to make her entrance into the world kicking and screaming….my son didn’t feel any need to put up a fight. He joined us at 7:54pm weighing in at 7lbs 13 oz and 21 inches long (my largest baby to date)!

So as I reflect on his birth, I see clearly that my baby boy is no longer such a baby. He is nearly a teenager and adds so much joy to our lives. It’s amazing to watch him slowly developing into a man, but what really moves me is how many personality traits he has possessed since day one showing me that in Bailey’s case…nature vs. nurture has done a fine job all on its own.

He always had a love for sports. From the moment he could grasp something in his tiny little hands, he wanted to hold onto a ball. From the moment he was steady enough to stand on his own two feet, he was dunking his basketball into a Little Tykes hoop. From the moment he could run, he was racing everyone and anyone down the street and back.

He has always had a love for all things sports related; he has always been as quick as lighting; he has always been the epitome of perpetual motion. Bailey has always been the child that after an entire weekend in a gym, playing several games of basketball asks, “What’s next, mom?” Just one more thing I have come to know, expect, and love about my son. Because as exhausting as his constant energy can be, it also comes with a zest for life that can only be seen through Bailey’s eyes.

Without exaggeration, he always has a smile on his face, a song in his heart, and a compassion for others that is to be admired and mimicked. I remember several times when he was young seeing other children using Bailey or treating him like a doormat. He would never understand my concern over these types of so-called “friends”. I would try and explain to him how he shouldn’t let people treat him poorly or let other kids walk all over him, and he would just look at me and say, “But he’s my friend”. My fear was that his tender heart and innocent way of looking at the world would hurt him in so many ways. And while I’m sure Bailey will have his share of heartbreak due to his trusting and loving nature, he has taught me that going through life on the defense is no way to live either.

So I have let go. I have let Bailey love the world and all that it has to offer him with reckless abandon. I have stepped back and stopped trying to change his outlook. I no longer want him to look at life through suspicious eyes, but rather love unconditionally as he does. Watching him love so willingly has taught me more about the way God wants us to live than I could ever teach him about life.

So with tears in my eyes and a love I have no words for…I would like to wish my son a very Happy Birthday! Bailey, you will forever make me proud to your mama!

I was speaking to a close friend of mine the other day who is also a stay-at-home mom.  She was talking about how bad she felt that she hadn’t played with her daughter in weeks…..you know…..that sitting down, no distractions, kind of playing.  We were discussing how busy life is, if it’s even possible to slow it down, and that there is just too much to do in one day.  She was determined to stay home for the day and get her house cleaned, but then felt bad because she felt like she was neglecting her daughter.

If on this one day they weren’t going to be running ragged then should she not be playing with her daughter all day instead of worrying about cleaning the house?

I could relate to what she was saying so vividly because I too have struggled with that over the years.  The guilt, albeit unnecessary guilt, that we put on ourselves as mothers seems to be never-ending.  We always feel like we are coming up short and we are because unfortunately, we are striving for perfection and it does not exist in human form.

If I’m running endless errands for days on end, I feel terrible that my child is rushed through eating a fast food lunch and taking her nap in the car as I drive to the next stop on my list.  If we are finally staying home for the day, I feel compelled to clean the house that has been neglected, catch up on laundry, and make a nice meal for the family to enjoy.

Entertaining the child or children at home seems to take a back burner to all the chores, but it’s a catch 22 because you’re either feeling guilty over not playing or feeling guilty about all the chores lining up.  There is no way to win and it’s a never-ending battle of balance.  How do we balance our time between the endless demands that life puts on us and the even larger set of demands we put on ourselves to be these perfect parents?

While I rarely have useful advice to dole out…mind you, the emphasis is on “useful“…I had a moment of clarity this morning that I offered my friend.  It is something I have had to remind myself of over the years, and it really is all about balance.  True, there are the days when everything needs to be set aside…..forget about the cooking, cleaning, and errands…..pull up a piece of carpet, sit down with your child, and just be in the moment with them.  Play with them, entertain them, teach them…truly give them your undivided attention.  Nothing else really matters in this life and everything else can wait.

However, there is also something to be said for just being home with them.  As stay-at-home moms, we put this unrealistic demand on ourselves that if we don’t work outside the home, then we should be there to be our child’s entertainment 100% of the time…. and as unpopular as my opinion may be with some of the “experts”, I don’t completely agree with that.

I mean, if they were in a childcare center, they would not have a one-on-one caregiver assigned to them to follow them around all day long and cater to their every whim and fancy.  If they are in school, they need to share their teacher’s attention with 20+ other children.  I feel it’s actually a disservice to our kids to make them feel like they are the only thing in the world that deserves attention because as they get older, they have to learn the hard way that this is not true at all.  They will need to share the attention of their caregivers for the rest of their lives.  And there is nothing more demanding than a toddler or pre-schooler who doesn’t know how to entertain themselves or use their imagination. I’m not suggesting that our children are not the most important people in the world; I’m saying that they are not the only thing that needs attention in this world.

I can say this because I made that mistake with my first two children.  I had my first two children within 17 months of each other and back then….I had the time to sit around with them all day and play with them.  We lived in a tiny little apartment that took less than 30 minutes to clean.  We had a fraction of the laundry we currently have so that only needed to be done a couple times a week. We only had one car so when their dad was at work, I was “grounded” in the apartment so running errands wasn’t even an option.  I felt like the best mom in the world because my children were never in front of the TV. We played all day long together, and by 17 months old, right before her brother was born, I had taught Kylie all her shapes, colors, and quite a bit of the alphabet.   By the time she was 2, she was “reading” entire books to us (she really just had them memorized, but regardless, she had entire books memorized).

As our family grew, so did the house and the responsibilities.  I no longer had the time to play all day long with children 3, 4, and 5 and there is a marked difference in their personalities because of it.  My first two children struggled considerably as they got older to entertain themselves.  They did not have the ability to sit down with a puzzle or a bag of blocks and use their imagination.  They constantly wanted me to do it for them, and I realized then that I had done a huge disservice for them by constantly being their playmate.

My younger children, even to this day, are much more content to just “be”.  They do not always need to be around friends.  They do not constantly need me to tell them what they could be doing for fun.  And they know how to be content with playing quietly next to me instead of always playing with me.  What I did with my first two children was create a measure of “high maintenance” personalities.  And today, I take comfort in knowing that while my 16 month old may not know her colors or shapes yet, she does know how to pick up her toys and care for her belongings….something she is learning from watching me pick up the house…..something my older two kids never saw me do.

So again, I think it is all about balance.  I will push aside the dirty dishes to put together a puzzle with my little one, but I will also teach her how to be content with coloring next to mommy as I fold laundry.  And I truly believe that none of my children will ever remember whether or not they played more with me or played more next to me….what I pray they will remember when they look back on their childhood is that I was ALWAYS there!

I was there to make them lunch every afternoon, and I always made their PB & J with the crusts cut off just how they like it. I was there to snuggle them in for every nap with their favorite blankie. I was the one who took them to the pool in the summer and the museum each winter. I provided a clean, safe, loving environment for them to spend their days in….and a fun, active home for them to enjoy. I was there to kiss away the boo-boos and teach them how to share with others.

And perhaps when they become adults, they will realize that I was the one who put aside my personal goals to make sure I was always there to foster their dreams.

It has been one week since my third child, Brady, turned 10 years old and it is finally time for me to write my little birthday tribute to him. I always struggle to write these posts not due to lack of feeling or inspiration, but because I struggle to put those feelings into words. After all, how do you possibly sum up what your child means to you or what his birth did to change you as a person for the rest of your life? How do you find the words to describe how much each day with your child is a true gift from God? And what words can articulate how the mere presence of this angel in your life moves you to tears on a regular basis?

So with that in mind, I will do my best to describe my life with Brady in it, but I know there are no words to adequately describe how much joy he adds to my days. I will post this meager attempt at putting a mother’s love into tangible words, fully knowing I have failed miserably with the first sentence.

Brady’s birthday was on October 15^th but he celebrated it with the H1N1 virus so needless to say, it was a pretty low-key birthday for my little man. We gave him his gifts on his actual birthday, which he seemed grateful for, but the normal excitement in his eyes was hampered by the raging fever he was fighting. My heart just broke for him because I know all too well how much you wait all year for your one special day to arrive and then to wake up on that momentous day with a fever, terrible cough, and body aches is just downright depressing.

As an adult, I have spent birthdays in the hospital and lying sick in bed from my asthma. I still remember how sad I was to see my birthday come and go during those “sick” years and feeling too ill to take in the moment. So for a child….a child who waits anxiously all year long for that one day….well, like I said….my heart broke for him.

On the bright side, he rebounded rather quickly from the virus and in no time was up and around enjoying his birthday gifts. We had my parents over for a big Dairy Queen Ice Cream cake, per Brady’s request, and he blew out his candles just a few short days after his actual birthday. Brady took the illness in stride, as he tends to take most things in life with little or no fussing.

He has always been a very even keeled, well mannered, and mellow kind of a child. Even as a baby, I remember how easy he was to take care of. It was like he knew I had my hands full with his two older siblings who are admittedly, much more high maintenance than Brady has ever been, so he always just hung out quietly by my side and observed the world around him. He has never been a huge talker, but when he does chose to speak up, it is always deeply thought out and profound for even an adult’s thinking.

I will never forget some of the intensely deep things he used to say about God, Jesus, and death when he was only 5 and 6 years old. He would tell me, as I tucked him in at night, how he was so excited to meet Jesus and that death wasn’t sad, it was exciting because you could finally meet Jesus in person. I used to walk out of his room in a cold sweat and check on him every 15 minutes during those nights because I was so afraid he was bracing me for his death or something morbid like that. I mean, talking about how excited you are to die someday is not what a mother wants to hear from her healthy 5 year old, but Brady never saw the problem in talking about death. He truly had a better grasp on the entire issue than most adults I know…myself included.

And his faith in God has always been unparallel. He blurts out things that I struggle to wrap my brain around, but I know he must make the good Lord smile from ear to ear to hear one of His miracles understand Him and His teachings in such a profound way at such a young age. I can honestly say that Brady has taught me more about faith than any Bible study or years of attending mass ever has.

I have always called him a wise soul, and he has never failed to live up to that kind of spirit. For example, the other day he was hanging out in the kitchen with me while I was wrestling to get any amount of actual food into Miss Natalie for lunch. He was home sick, Natalie was sick, and I was coming down with the flu myself at the time. Brady was quietly observing, as he always does, and then when he felt it was time, he spoke up and said, “Being a parent is really hard. I mean, you are fighting to feed one baby and you are growing another baby in your stomach. It’s a lot of hard work to be a mom.”

I instantly laughed aloud as I tend to do when he speaks up because I’m always taken back by his amazingly vivid observations. I then paused for a moment just marveling in the wisdom of his words. I told him that he was exactly right….that being a parent was a ton of hard work, but it was also well worth it. He watched us for just a short minute longer and then ran off to play. And these are the typical interactions we have with Brady. The strong, silent type who blows you clear off your feet when he does decide to let you into his thoughts.

As difficult as it can be sometimes to parent a child who doesn’t openly share his feelings without a considerable amount of prodding, it can also be the most enlightening experience of my days as a mother. He opens my eyes to ideas and observations I have never even considered before his young mind dreams them up. He is such a delight to spend time with because I know that he is comfortable enough in himself, even at such a young age, that he does not have to fill the silence with chatter, but can sit there in the quiet, content and taking in the moment. I know many adults who can’t even do that.

So it is without further ado that I wish my angel….my Bray-Bray…..a happy 10^th birthday. I know in my heart that he will fill this upcoming year with more wisdom and clever observations and make parenting him the joy that it has and will continue to be.

I love you my son deeper than you will ever know.

I realized tonight that I never followed up with my breastfeeding/weaning saga and decided that I would give closure to all of you sitting around, waiting with baited breath just wondering, “I wonder what ever happened with Sara and her boob issues?” Well, tonight I’m going to wrap that up for all of you….I know, I know….please try to control your enthusiasm as you read on.

As many of you know, for Natalie’s first year of life, I nursed her to get her to fall asleep….for every nap, and every night before bed.  Then I would nurse her several times throughout the night, not because she was hungry, but because that was the only way she would fall back asleep.  I had created quite a monster and breaking our bad habits was not easy, but shortly after her first birthday, we succeeded.

Since the pregnancy of child number 6 developed, I worked diligently to wean her from the breast.  It took several weeks, but we both came through it with flying colors.   Part of the problem was that she refused to drink cow’s milk from a cup so she wasn’t getting the adequate amount of fluid intake that she needed.  It was quite a stressful couple of months going back and forth between staying strong and not giving into breastfeeding and then caving because I got myself all worked up that she hadn’t wet through enough diapers for the day.

Well, one day we were playing in her room and she found one of her old bottles.  We had a few on hand for the times I was out and about and daddy needed to feed her.  She picked it up and started sucking on it as if to say, “Hey you moron, if you would just give me the cow’s milk in this here bottle instead of trying to force me to drink out of those darn sippie cups, then we would have no problem with this weaning business!”  So I followed her lead and gave her the bottle with whole milk, and she sucked it down in 15 seconds flat.  It was a victorious day for both of us and the true weaning process began on that day many months ago.

It’s now been several months since I last breast fed Miss Natalie and there are still many times I miss it dearly.  I rock her in her room at night feeding her a bottle and most nights she takes it just fine, but she still has her moments. When she is really upset and tugs on my shirt as if to say, “Please mommy, I’m really having a hard time right now, and I just need that comfort food you have stored in the homemade bottles you are hiding down your shirt.”   I can only equate it to someone telling me that in my darkest hours…. in my most hormonal moments….that I cannot turn to chocolate for the comfort I need to get me through the day.  But even worse is that I’m her mom and I’m the one denying her that comfort food!

I know…I’m a monster.  But it was truly getting to be unmanageable in our house and the madness needed to come to an end. Given that and coupled with the fact that in just 5 short months I will be turning my boobs over to the next baby, I know I did the right thing by weaning her.

So now you know the ending to my breastfeeding tales, and I’m sure you will all sleep better tonight for having the knowledge that Miss Natalie and I got through it and we are both doing alright.

People always say, “out of the mouths of babes” but today I think I need to tweak that adage and say, “out of the mouth of my brazen husband“!  There is much to be done around this house but I have decided to eat up Natalie’s nap time…yes, that precious hour during the day when all is quiet and I can actually get something done around here….to write a new post.  There’s laundry and dishes to be done….more cleaning than I can shake a fist at, but since my husband decided to let me know what he really thinks of my last blog post, I felt that writing this needed to move to the top of the priority list.  So what did he say????  Well, funny you should ask.  I’d be happy to share that with you.  The conversation went something like this:

Corey:  Your last post was LAME; you better write a new one and post it as soon as possible!

Me:  (Mouth dropping to the floor)….WHAT???  What do you mean it is “lame”?

Corey:  Well, I read your stuff for the emotional element.  Your writings usually make me laugh or cry.  The post about the cashews and your weight…that didn’t’ make me laugh or cry.  It was stupid!

Me:  (Mouth still hanging open)….I understand that perhaps as a man you cannot appreciate weight struggles or being pregnant or a doctor looking you in the face and telling you to just eat more cashews and you’ll lose weight, but I know that there is a substantial part of my women readers that will be able to appreciate that story.  And I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I do write to appeal to an audience greater than yourself!

Corey:  I guess…but it was still a lame post and you need to write something new!

Ok…that is when I just closed my mouth, rolled my eyes, and decided that no amount of talking was going to make him understand.  Regardless, he made me so self conscious that as I stated, I am going to use up Natalie’s nap time to write something “more emotional”.  Which brings me to the first day of school….

My children started school again yesterday.  It was a beautiful day as it always seems to be on the first day of school.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  The temperature was neither too hot, nor too chilly.  The sun was shining brightly which made for a great “first day of school” picture.  The kids all promptly hopped right out of bed and were ready to go in no time.

They actually rode the bus TO school for the very first time yesterday.  Normally I drive them to school and they take the bus home, but this year we decided to ride the bus both ways.  So I took my traditional morning pictures, and then Natalie and I walked them down to the corner and waited for the bus to arrive.  Their stop is just 2 blocks down so we stayed at the corner of our block and waved to them while they waited on the corner of the next block.   If I wasn’t sad enough to see them off to school, watching Natalie was sure to put me over the edge.  She kept taking my hand and trying to pull me across the street to chase after them.  She kept waving her tiny little arm as fast as she could and was yelling, “Bye, love you” over and over again.  She was so confused as to why they were leaving without her, and she was so sad to see them go.  I have to admit…I felt the exact same way.

I mean, why do I need to say goodbye to my children every school year?  Why does it hurt so badly every year when I hand them over to some stranger who now gets to spend more time each day with my children than I do?  Something about that has always felt wrong to me, and I’m sure it always will.  After all, they are MY children.  I want to spend my days with them watching them learn, socialize, and grow in their faith.   While I may never understand why it hurts so much or is so difficult for me to let go, I have come to at least two realizations thus far regarding the school year:

1.  I now completely and utterly understand mothers who choose to home school their kids.  AND….

2.  I have such a deep admiration and respect for those “strangers” I hand my children over to each year.  Teachers take it upon themselves to be my eyes and ears during the day when I cannot be there. They nurture my children by educating them and help them grow as individuals by guiding them socially.  I am able to bring my concerns over an issue directly to them and they actually embrace these issues as if it were one of their own kids.  They work with me as a partner in raising my children and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Because even though my heart is breaking over losing this time with them, I do find comfort in knowing that they are in good hands with loving individuals.  Their teachers will care for them until 3:00pm when they gently pass the baton back to me….and I regain my rightful place by their sides once again until the next day.  We will run this relay race together…parents, teachers, and children for 9 long months all with the same goal in mind.

Together…we will raise a generation who will know how to respect authority, create change in times of necessity, honor the Lord, find compassion for those in need, and leave a positive imprint on our hearts as well as our world.

I guess I can ask for nothing more.

Baby "Peanut"

Do I have some news to share with all of you!  After 3 weeks of agony with needing to keep my mouth shut….I can finally announce that I am PREGANT!!!!

For those of you keeping count…yes, this is baby #6!  We found out 3 weeks ago, but because I have miscarried in the past, we wanted to wait until after the 2-month check-up and ultra-sound before announcing it to the world.

I had my appointment yesterday afternoon and it was wonderful.  The ultra sound came with a picture perfect report.  The heartbeat is a strong 160, there are already leg and arm buds formed, finger and toe buds formed, tiny little blood vessels flowing through his/her entire body, and we even saw the little peanut move!  I could not feel it of course as it’s no bigger than 3/4 of an inch, but we saw it move and that was really cool.

My family has met the news with mixed emotions.  My parents decided to come by one evening to let me know how devastating this news was to them.  I will spare you the details of the event because I refuse to disrespect my parents on the World Wide Web, but I will leave it at this:  It was truly one of the most difficult moments of my life.  I’m sad for how they feel, but they are entitled to their opinions.  MOVING ON…..

The kids took the news wonderfully!  The 3 boys were thrilled.  My little Avery even came up to me, after the other 2 boys did, and gave me a huge hug and said, “Congratulations Mom”!  Talk about melting my heart.  The warm reception made my day and was much needed after the shell shock I felt after breaking the news to my parents.  It was good to know that not everyone feels this is a terrible thing.  Kylie, my daughter, handled the news well too.  She said that the only thing that bothers her is when people act like she’s the pregnant one.  As she explained to me when I was pregnant with Natalie, she got very “annoyed” with everyone…teachers, parents, and every friend she has…..coming up to her on a weekly basis and asking her:  how is the baby?  Are you excited about the baby?  Do you have a name picked out for the baby?  Is it a boy or a girl?  Do you know yet?  Is your mom going to find out?  When is she due again?  And the twenty questions continued throughout the whole pregnancy.  Trying to look at it through the eyes of a 13 year old, I can completely understand why that would be “annoying”.  So other than the dread she feels towards all the questions, she is excited about the pregnancy.

The rest of my family and friends have been very receptive to the news.  I have received so many “well wishes” and “congratulations” that I feel grateful to have such a fabulous support system.

Corey, my husband, is as equally excited as I am.  Not that being exhausted right now and nauseous every hour is a treat to end our summer vacation, but a baby is never anything but a true blessing from our good Lord.  I cannot wait to share this journey with you all!!!

Well summer is practically over…at least in my mind it is.  Whenever we hit the end of July…my daughter’s birthday along with the wrap up of summer sports…soccer for my son…and softball for my daughter…I always end up with a lump in my throat for about a week.  I just can’t get over how fast the time has flown by.  Every year it hits me the same way!

Each year, I say the same thing to people’s nonchalant inquiry, “How’s your summer going?”

My inevitable response, “Great!  It’s going by too fast though”….and I swallow hard as I walk away.

At this point in the season, most moms I know are more than ready to send their children back to school.  The bickering and arguing and the millionth “I’m bored!” is wearing thin on our patience.  I agree.  I am not immune to the trials and endless tests of creativity when I’m asked for the 15th time in a single day, “Mom, what are we going to do today?”  My reply, “What do you mean?  I thought we were doing it right now!”  However, instead of embracing the inevitable, I will fight it tooth and nail!

The school supplies are out in the stores.  The “Back to School” sales line racks and racks of clothes.  The buzz is in the air and I am struggling to ignore it!

I will find some way to pretend like August is not knocking on my door.  I will deny all the cries from the merchants to “buy early…while supplies last!”  Yes, I will scramble that last week before school starts to find all the millions of glue sticks and pencil erasers that are required, but I don’t care.  I will deal with the frustration when the time is appropriate, but now.

For now….I will not let this inevitable monster called “school” breath down my neck quite yet.  They cannot have them back just yet.  I am not ready.  They are not ready.  We need more time…we just need more time!

I am determined….as I am each and every summer….to hold tight to my last month with my babies.  I will cling dearly to these last few weeks of late night walks, campfires, pool days, staying up late, and lazy mornings like crazy glue!  I will ignore the bickering and endless inquiries.  I will renew my commitment to cherishing each moment with my children.

I will fight for our time…for every last second I can squeeze out of summer in an effort to make more memories together….for just a few more fleeting moments before it is gone again for yet another long year.