Life's not fair--or is it?

I've been thinking lately about a conversation I had with the mom of one of Dallin and Landon's teammates.  She didn't know which player(s) I belonged to but she was lamenting the fact that some of "those big boys get to play the entire game--all the time.  It's not very fair."  Dallin was out with a sprained ankle so I knew she was referring in large part to Landon.

Her comments took me back to my own feelings of sorrow at my children's struggles.

 I remember in second grade Landon and Dallin having to go back to first grade for reading.

 I remember Dallin crying at home because he was put in the out box at recess {again} for tripping over and on top of other kids playing soccer.  As he would say--"it's just not fair, I'm just running along and the next thing I know there's a kid under my feet."

I remember spending hours and hours working and explaining why the boys had to go to extra "school" (tutoring) in order to learn to read.  It wasn't fun.

So, now when I see these really big, very focused, hard-working teenagers of mine have loads of success in one area, I am completely happy.  I want to tell the other moms not to worry because working through heart ache makes for hard working and well balanced kids. I know from personal experience.

I want everyone to remember that we can't compare our own kids' weaknesses with other kids' strengths.   Life tends to balance out.  I hope I can always remember not to look at a successful child with jealousy because chances are that there is, or will be an area of struggle.  That's just how life works.   And it would be good for me to remember that that rule continues to apply to adult life as well!

Neglected.

I have been less than energetic lately. I admit it. I got over the horrible 'morning' sickness only to be bombarded with a massive wave of fatigue. Or maybe I'm just lazy, I don't know. But I think a couple of months of frozen meals and paper plates has convinced my children and husband that they are terribly neglected. Apparently this Halloween weekend they decided that they had had enough.

They teamed up and began the appeal--"why don't we ever get to have a good costume?" and "Gandalf's staff is white not brown" and "I thought you were going to make me a cape" and "we never get to do anything fun" and "Froto has to have a vest and SHORT pants mom." (Nicole Martin in Page Arizona, this is entirely your fault. They would never have expected me to make costumes if you hadn't introduced me to the art of costume creation!  But I still miss you every Halloween...)

So Saturday morning I headed to the fabric store and here's what we got...

This is Gandalf the White (Dallin) and  Raistlin (Landon--a character from one of their favorite books).  For Dallin I just had to make a white cape--we already had the robe.  For Landon I sewed the robe--we already had a red cape.  Thankfully I've made a million capes and robes so I kind of had an idea of what to do.  Obviously these weren't high fashion but they made everyone happy.  Rustin did makeup (as always) and staffs.

Austin is just a wizard.  I cut his robe too short so I had to add a big hem which was off center and drove Austin crazy. 

Rough life.

Jenna is the easiest ever.  A purple and black witch.

Benson gets the easy award also--Froto.  I made this costume a couple of years ago.  

I am hoping that I have earned myself a few brownie points so everyone feels well cared for for a couple of weeks.  I think I'll go take a nap.

Growing up is hard to do...

 Mom this is hard. (note the awesome gloves!)

A little encouragement from Dad fixes the tears. But she still wants training wheels back on...

Maybe next week.

Go cubs!

I have to admit it--I love watching the boys play football.  Two hours every day of blood and sweat finally pays off at the game.  Dallin and Landon were on the 7th grade team.  As usual for us, Dallin ended up in the  ER with a sprained ankle at the beginning of the season so he only played in the first and last games.  Opposite foot from last time.  Landon had a great year playing defensive line and he carried the ball a couple times on offense. The coaches created a new award (head hunter) for Landon after one particularly great game (more than 20 tackles).  

Landon 67, Dallin 62.

Benson with a little half time show of his own.

Austin had his first year playing tackle football. The daily two hour practices were a shock to his system at first but he loved it. He played offensive line most of the time but spent quite a bit of time on defense. Rustin told him if he got a solo tackle he would buy him a milk shake. He finally pulled through on the last game of the year.  Dallin and Landon knew they would benefit from Austin's success--we can't think of a better way to encourage brothers to cheer for each other!

ummm Fall.

Tonight the boys are playing the card game equivalent of video games.  Seriously.  A couple of times we have found Dallin and Landon up at 6 am playing games. (They always get up at 6 am but they are usually more worried about eating and finding shoes than playing a game...)

Little Jen has been like this all day.  Fever is currently 102.9 with ibuprofen and Tylenol.  We (and the pediatrician) think it is probably viral.  Yuck.  She holds onto her head every time she takes a deep breath.  Poor thing. I hope this bug doesn't make the rounds through the house.  

Beau is checking on Jenna...I can't get this picture to turn the right way.  

Rustin performed a really nice wedding today. (I filled in playing prelude music-I think it's my unofficial calling...)  This is his third wedding and he has conducted 12 funerals in the last 18 months.  He does a great job every time.  


We pulled up the garden and I wish I had a picture of the Beverly Hillbilly trailer full of plants.  For the record plants CAN grow really well in just six inches of a non-soil mixture. Next year we will try square foot gardening again.  No weeding needed has made a believer out of me for sure!    I really wish I had a before picture--everything grew great--no weeds at all in the garden (some around the edges where the lovely dog dug up the weed barrier).  We didn't do a very good job of picking and pruning.  Next year.


Dallin sprained his ankle in football.  The coaches called us and said that they all heard a really loud 'snap' and we needed to take him to the ER.  We were very relieved to see his leg wasn't broken.  We know from experience that casts are a pain and they are very expensive.  But he is just now hobbling without crutches.  The coaches are really pushing him to play on Tuesday but we aren't sure if he is ready.


I feel much better and we all love the cool (finally!) weather.  We have been having morning temps in the forties and afternoon in the high 90's. I am ready for pumpkins and leaves!  

A re-do wish?

I don't have a lot of regrets in my life.  Only a couple.  One of the biggest is that I don't remember the first six months to one year of the twins' life.

 I really don't.

There are a lot of reasons--severe sleep deprivation, a bit of untreated postpartum depression (see previous reason...), work, and denial.  I didn't realize at the time that my life with tiny twins was unique and would be gone in a second. I didn't keep a journal so I can't really trust my memories.  I started writing a blog a few years ago so that forgetting would never happen again.

But, every once in a while it feels like there just isn't much to remember.  There's nothing exciting to write about--I still feel nauseated (pregnant).  the boys love football.  we had another trip to the ER. homework still gets ignored sometimes and the socks STILL aren't matched.  Hmmm.

This line of thinking led me to a specific memory...

I do not like flying.  I never have.   I have a few stand out memories in my life that reinforce my dislike of airplane travel:  A tiny, toddling Benson grabbing a strange man's water and dumping it all over the lap of his nice suit pants;  running out of my stash of "desperation only treats" before the plane even left the runway;  trying desperately (and unsuccessfully) to keep two pairs of three-year-old legs from kicking the seat of the glaring woman in front of me.  Most of the time those things were just unavoidable and unchangeable side effects of flying with tiny children.

There is, however one particular flight that I really wish I could re-do.

 I sat next to a businessman who was eager to show me pictures of his bikini-clad identical twin toddler daughters.  He went on to talk (for most of the flight) about how he took his girls and the nanny ("who had her own separate room of course") on a business trip to Hawaii so his wife could have time to pursue her career.

"And sometimes", he bragged, "I have the housekeeper just take the girls outside to play so my wife can have time to cook whatever she wants".

And--he was quick to mention--his wife was busy writing a book about how to raise twins.  *excuse me while I chuckle for a minute...*

He talked about interviewing preschools for his girls so they could start on "the right path-because you can't get into the right schools if you don't start in preschool."  He talked about tennis lessons and music lessons.  He went on and on.  I felt like I was being lectured in a very subtle manner.  Like he was trying to graciously show a poor woman what real life is like.  For one of the only times in my life, I really didn't know what to say.

For the first time in my life I felt like a dowdy, uneducated woman who had a million (four at the time...) kids.

What I know now and wish I had said then is that I would never, ever trade my life for his.  Not even for a trip to Hawaii with a nanny. I am sorry for all the things those kids will miss.

I love to see my kids ride bikes down the street and run barefoot to the neighbors to see if they can play.

I love having sweaty, dirt-covered faces show up for lunch every single day.

I love that I don't have to have a number and identification to pick my kids up from school.  They see my car and come running.

I love sitting on the grass at football games while my kids play under the bleachers with all the other kids.

I love that I can go to the park packed with  moms and kids eating lunch and leave to see that not one person (I'm not kidding here) has left their garbage on the lawn.  Every other mom is saying "if you don't pick it up then who will?"

I love it. Love it.  LOVE it.

I come from a long, long line of happy moms who are married to happy dads who have raised happy kids who have made great contributions in life.  Who can argue with that?

Tennis lessons, fancy preschools and exclusive nannies are just poor substitutions.  It's the regular old life that I want to remember.  If I ever sat next to that man again I would tell him how sorry I am that he can't have my life.  And I would completely mean it.

And I'm going to write about it so I don't ever forget one minute.

oh baby!

Has it really been a month since I last wrote?  


I have a really good excuse---oh Baby! do I have a good excuse.
or maybe BABY?!


Yep. We are expecting number six in mid- April.

I am just beginning to come out of a serious nausea-induced fog.  (We are talking like--'I just rode the Gravitron at the fair three times in a row' kind of nausea.)
  
Don't get me wrong, I don't feel well enough to actually go scan the ultrasound picture (very cute and in 3-D!) into the computer and post it, but I did make dinner and attend a football game without desperately eating a pile of saltines the whole way through. I am hopeful that I may begin to feel like a normal person most of the day.  And when that day comes I will clean the house.  I promise.


The most frequently asked questions: 

Is this a surprise? 

YES.  But not the way you think.  We were not surprised by the pregnancy (actually waited a good 6 months...).  We were surprised that we wanted another baby.  We were truly content and happy with our five.  Our last two kids are 15 months apart--close enough not to risk the "spoiled youngest child" syndrome--just like we wanted.  


We happily gave away all the baby stuff and clothes.  
Then--what happened?  


It started with a little thought.  It kept ruminating. I specifically remember when we went to the movie theater to see Ice age II (I think) and the mammoths had a little baby girl.  It made me cry in the theater.  Shocking.  I asked Rustin if that movie scene made him want another babe.  He looked at me like I was crazy and didn't even give my question a response. I'm still not sure how it happened.  I mean the wanting of another one not...you know...

Were you missing someone?  Did you think you had another one waiting for you?

Nope.  Really.  We knew this was our choice.  We could have been done with five and that would have been okay.  But the little 'what if' question just kept recurring.  'What would it be like?' 'Would our children and family be happier with another one?'  We didn't know, so we prayed and pondered.  I asked the Lord to show me what it would be like and He did. 


I have come to realize over the last year and a half that life will have trials. No one escapes it.  No matter what your level of spiritual conviction, something will be hard because we are always expected to progress.  Progress is always hard. You don't ever reach a level of "righteousness" that means you don't have trials or temptation or sadness. Righteousness doesn't insulate from growing pains.   I was reminded  that whatever the Lord has in mind really will be the happiest and best life. It took about two years to get to that point of acceptance.  


And then we didn't get pregnant for a long time.  I had just decided that maybe the Lord was saying "thanks for the offer and demonstration of faith but I have other things for you to do that don't involve a baby." 
And then I was sick.
And then I found out I was pregnant.


The kids are thrilled and so are we.  I'm sure I will feel even more excited when I can eat normally again.  


And one of these days I am going to catch up on all of the great end of summer things I have been meaning to write about...