Where are they now?

It's been awhile - goes without saying - since I've updated the blog on the boys and what they're up to. No better than than when waiting on hold for a call for 20+ minutes right?

It's only fair that the first born go last so I'll start with Charles. (Please excuse any third born bitterness there)

Our little cowboy is 8 months old and he's a wild one! It's amazing to me how very different babies can be even from the early ages. Charles is so much more .....

So I guess that phone call ended up interrupting this blog post. Over a month ago. Oops! Let me try again...

Our little cowboy is NINE months old and he is still a wild one. William seemed to always know boundaries even as a baby. Didn't try crawling off our bed, didn't want to climb over the dog and land face first in the carpet, never crawled in the bath tub sticking his entire face in the water...he was reserved. Silly me, I just thought my 9 month old was listening when I told him 'knees or bottom in the bath'. Charles seems to have no fear of things where William did. They're so different!

He's as happy as they come, laughing and smiling all the time. He's standing very well and occasionally takes a few steps along furniture before he decides crawling is faster. He eats a lot, though he seems to have a bit of a gag reflex and it takes him a few tries before he likes something new. But he's always willing to try again! He is the opposite build of his big brother - in the 40th percentile for height and 80th for weight. I could eat up his chunky thighs all day long! He sprouted 2 teeth this week and I determined either teething is like child birth and you force yourself to forget it with each child, or it is just way harder for him than it was for William. I'm glad we are done for the moment! He babbles and talks a lot, and has learned that the sound 'mama' usually gets him whatever he wants. But he uses it with everyone :) And he couldn't be more enamored with his big brother. He thinks anything William does is just the coolest. 

William is 5. That's right. 5. Last time I wrote he was 4 so I've clearly failed him in the worst of ways. He is 5 going on 15. He's as smart as ever and has grown into his intellect a little bit. The temper tantrums seem to be (for the most part) a thing of the past and he generally 'uses his words' like we begged him to for years. Only problem, his words are incredibly argumentative and logical. I never thought there would come a day when I'd be exhausted from arguing! But he still has the softest heart. His love for people, for his family and for Jesus fill the room. He is so caring and compassionate - if you're hurting, he's hurting. He loves nothing in the world more than his baby brother, but dada and mommy are really close in second place. He's starting tee ball next weekend, says things like 'I gotta tell ya somethin...' And sleeps in boxer briefs. If I haven't said it before, he's not a baby bear anymore. But like all moms would say, when I look at this 

I see this

He's my baby.

And loretta? Oh she's growing. William likes to find out how big she is each week. This week she's as long as a scallion. She changes on Sundays (nope, she doesn't grow all week it instantly changes) so we'll see what veggie she is next. Did I even blog about her name? Or about her at all?? Surely I did. If not, tune in next time (or sometime) for my 'third child problems' series. I'd use a hashtag, but I'm way too out of pop culture to do that. 

Until then...hope you are enjoying tax season far more than I am. It's my last crazy busy one for awhile. A long while. There's a cliff hanger for ya! 

Not scared to admit it

I'm going to be honest here for a minute - despite who I may offend, including my sweet little daughter. I'm not writing to offend - and I hope I don't, I'm just writing about the most recent happenings. I started writing this about a month ago but never finished so I thought I'd go back and see if anything has changed. It hasn't :) so I think it's safe to post - and hopefully not offend.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I've heard something to the effect of...
"Oh my gosh are you SO excited you finally got your girl?"
"third time's a charm!"
"yay! finally! a girl!"
"aww, you must be so excited!"
"a girl! now you can be done!"

First of all, I didn't know we were inverse of China. I didn't know girls were the prized possessions and boys should be thrown out with the bath water. I've been surprised at the overwhelmingly polarized opinions on it actually. I didn't really know the gender of a baby carried so much weight on either side.

Second, I have to hold in my laughter when people refer to me "finally getting my girl" or implying in some way or another that this is my heart's deepest desire. Now - sweet baby girl Wallis - I am over the moon with love and excitement for your arrival, I truly am. But, I'd be over the moon with love and excitement for a boy too and if I'm being real, I actually would have chosen a third boy if I had to choose. 

I know. The sacrilege. How dare I speak the words.

I'm not all that partial, so I'm not saying I have disappointment in my heart but I just find it incredibly ironic that it's so readily assumed that I've been longing for something I've never received when, in actuality, a house full of boys would have been how I would have written the story. I'm not saying girls are bad or someone with a house full of girls should wish they had a house full of boys - that's not what I mean at all. But for me, I just would have written it that way.

I love little girls. I do! They're adorable and precious and have cute little shoes  and later they can share clothes and jewelry and life's secrets with their moms. I get it. Girls are awesome. And man if I could collect cash every time someone tells me 'a daughter is a daughter for life, a son is a son until he takes a wife'. I get it people.

But I know boys. I love boys. I'm good with boys. 

I hate tutus. I strongly dislike big bows or other large hair accessories, and I'm not even that big of a fan of small bows. I find girl wardrobes (not to exclude my own) fairly intimidating and I'm not really sure when you wear bloomers and if they go under tights or over...and what are they for even? I don't like prissy clothes and have no clue how to put it all together even if I wanted to. I don't like when a closet has 2 colors - pink and light pink - but I'll be honest and say I do enjoy laughing at how much austin dislikes it :)

I don't know about girl toys. Or calm behavior. Or other things that are very unfairly stereotyped as girl-type behavior. I don't care much for dance or cheer leading or other girly endeavors. And hey - maybe that's just because I never fit into that mold myself, who knows. There's a quote like 'he is afraid of that which he does not understand' right?

 I like the 'shake it off and move on' approach much better than coddling. I like rough and tough. I've just always thought I'd be a better mom to a boy than a girl. While the idea of a baby who I may not have to chase as much and a toddler who may sit and have a tea party instead of throw all of the toys off the banister sounds very appealing to this exhausted mama, I kind of enjoy throwing the toys too.

I know that God has a perfect reason for why this baby is a girl and I'm very, very excited to face the challenge. But, while many people saw a pink cupcake and were overcome with relief and more excitement than had they seen blue, that relief was more like intimidation for me. I'm not one to shy away from a challenge and the competitive side in my says "we can conquer this" - but had the cupcake been filled with blue icing I would probably have fallen asleep with a little lighter of a heart thinking, "whew, dodged a bullet with that one". I guess I just never thought of it from the other side.

And last, and this is the best insight into my brain, the notion that "now we can be done" just makes the dominant parts of my personality want to convince myself to have a fourth juuuuuuust to spite some people. (Even though the logical part of me says that's insane) In no way did the gender of this baby, or any of our babies, determine the number of babies we should or would have. And if WE aren't even to stand here and determine when/if we should have babies (cause clearly we didn't have much power on that one) then who is anyone else to determine that NOW that we FINALLY have the prized baby girl who will unlock the door to life's greatest happiness, NOW we can be done????

I'm not mad. I realize it may sound annoyed but really I'm chuckling as I type and I literally find myself biting my lip to avoid laughing when I receive the comments I mentioned above. And I get them allll the time. All the time.

What has changed since I originally wrote this is I've enjoyed seeing my life through the eyes of Loretta. I remember how irritating it was to have my brothers always hovering over me in protection, but to see the older brother love from William's perspective has been such a blessing to me. I've also loved watching the bond between my 2 boys develop and I think a girl will allow that bond to remain special and unique. I'm excited for our third baby - along with fear and trembling and anxiety and intimidation - and I know that if she never wears a bow in her hair or if she wears one every day it won't change how much we love her or what God's plans for her are. I'm excited to see austin's heart melt and the way he will parent a little girl. I'm excited to see how she changes us in ways we couldn't have otherwise. I would have loved a third boy, but I love my baby girl all the same and I can't wait to see how she adds to our family in 4 very fast approaching months.

Oh, Hi, It's Me.

Dearest Blog,

I have thought a lot about you over the last month. I've thought of posts like 'Third Child Problems', 'a boy mom trying to fit into a girl mom world', 'crazy cowboy', and countless little stories and anecdotes about William. I've mentally written a few posts and told myself to be sure to document them later. But unfortunately later generally means after bedtime, and lately 'after bedtime' has been comprised of cleaning vomit covered clothes, cleaning up pet stains, packing lunches, doing my best to put my washing machine out of commission, and - oh yeah - getting an early start on tax season.

So I've thought of you. I've missed you. I still love you. And if it's truly the thought that counts then you can rest easy knowing you're pretty high on my priority list...I just haven't gotten through the items above you yet.

I've meant to tell you about the amazing work arrangement I've been blessed with that will start in June. I've wanted to write about our 7th anniversary trip to San Francisco and ask how on earth married couples manage to spend one ounce of energy focused on each other sometimes between all else going on. I've wanted to share some of the struggles we've been dealing with lately with our sweet Charles and his stomach. I've wanted to, and I think I will. I just don't know when.

Thanks for always being there waiting. Patiently waiting for me to return to you. I'll try and do better, though you've heard that before haven't you? I will. One day. When life slows down.

In 18 years perhaps??

Sincerely,

Your dearest admirer