Two years ago at this time, I had just been induced and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of my baby! Four short hours later, my beautiful baby girl was born. After having two boys, I secretly hoped that maybe I would have a girl this time. Don't get me wrong, I dearly love my boys. I was just  getting a little tired of all the trucks and cars and soccer balls in my house. I needed a little more pink and frilly things and dolls.

My labour happened fairly fast, and the doctor and nurse kept encouraging me, saying, "good girl, just one more push, good girl!" and all of a sudden it changed into "It's a girl!! You have a girl!" It took me a second to realize they were no longer talking to me... and all of a sudden they placed my daughter in my arms. I fell in love instantly.

Some things I remember about that night:

- My mom and sister coming to the hospital at 12:30 in the morning, coming right to my labour and delivery room to hold my girl.

- My nurse making me peanut butter toast and tea for a midnight snack since I was shaking with hunger. 

- Being wheeled up to my room because the numbness from the epidural took forever to wear off.

- The sheer happiness and joy of holding my baby girl close to my heart.

She has been the most amazing little girl I ever could have asked for. She is gentle and sweet and from day one has been a little lady. Although I would have loved her just as much had she been a tomboy, I have to admit her girlyness thrills me. I love seeing her be a little mommy to her dolls, carry her purse over shoulder, get excited over painted toe nails. She loves dresses and shoes and cuddles. She loves going to the park, playing with her friends and eating treats. Having two older brothers has taught her to hold her own; she has a stubborn streak and doesn't mind showing it. She will definitely let you know when something is bothering her!

My girl, eating her cherished "isheam".

Happy birthday, Amelia! You are beautiful inside and out and I love you more than I could ever say. Love, Mommy.

Summer.

Every year, when March rolls around, and people start anticipating the summer months, I am the one who staunchly proclaims how wretched summer is. If anyone breathes the word summer, I dive in with a litany of complaints. The humidity. The heat. The longer days. (Come on, kids won't go to bed at 6:30 pm if the sun is still shining!) The barely clothed women who remind me daily of just how fat I really am. (Not that I say the last part out loud to people. I can't be drawing undue attention to my not-so-skinny self.) I am not even a big fan of beaches. I could insert a memory here about a day last summer when I dragged the three kids to the beach by myself on the hottest day of the year, but I'll spare you the dark and depressing details.

This evening, when I was cleaning the boys' room, a gust of warm air came wafting into the window, carrying a faint whiff of someone's barbecue. That is when I knew the awful truth: I secretly love summer. Somewhere underneath my disapproval lurks a girl who really does love sunshine (although I really could do without the humidity) and you'll never believe this, but I am starting to like the outdoors. There is something about the warmth, the sunshine, the longer days (did I really just say that?) and the more relaxed routine that is just so refreshing.

If you Dartmouth people have been wondering why there has been rain for the last three months, look no further. It's because of me. I had to learn the joy of summer by facing relentless rain. I really don't think anything else would have convinced me to change. 

It still ranks as my least favourite season, due to the things I listed above, which still hold true, but I admit there are also reasons to love it too. And for me, a self-proclaimed summer-hater, that is a big admission.

Working.

Sometimes I really miss my job. It's been four years since I quit working at the public library, but it seems way longer than that. After working at the same place for eight years, I finally called it quits to stay home with my babies. I worked part-time for a bit after Nicholas turned a year, until I had to go on maternity leave again a few months later for Jacob. I don't regret my decision to stay home with the kids at all, but every now and again I get this little itch inside of me that really feels like working again. I worked with the public and I loved it. The public in general is pretty weird and so there were always funny stories to tell and hear from coworkers. I worked with the best group of people ever. A couple of people in particular I became really close to and we had so many laughs and good times. Everyone (pretty much) got along and our "boss" was so great and accomodating. I loved taking my 15 minute breaks (Really? I got to have 15 minute breaks??) and my lunch hours when I worked full-time. But you know, I'm probably glamorizing it completely.

Kind of like when I think back to mine and Lucas' first apartment. I always think of it in a positive light, like the way I could walk to the grocery store in two minutes, or to the library in ten. The fact that our best friends lived upstairs, it was our first little home together, and it's the place where Nicholas was born (not literally of course). I totally forget about the pot-smoking neighbours, the disgusting supper smells from people who couldn't cook, domestic disputes that we didn't feel like listening to. How the man above us talked on the phone into the wee hours with a deep bass voice that droned on and on. For some reason, those bad things are not the first things I think about when I remember back to that little place of ours. I just remember the good stuff, and I think that's kind of how it is with my job.

Because really, on the flip side of this, I had to get up early in the morning, whether I wanted to or not (not that that part is any different now!) and then there was the dreaded phone call on the weekend when someone had called in sick so I had to go in. There were customer complaints, people yelling at me for no reason, awkward situations when I'd get caught in the middle of coworkers who were having a spat. There were situations typical to the library, that no one else would get so I won't explain here, but when it comes right down to it, library work can be downright back-breaking. It was tiring work, the kind where you're on your feet all day. When I was first pregnant with Jacob, I went back to work part time, like I mentioned before, because Nicholas had turned a year and my mat leave was finished. I had a taste of what it would be like to work and be a mother. I didn't like it. Yes, there was the freedom of having a few hours to get away, but I came home exhausted from my job, and still had a full-time job here at home. Yes, there was a little extra cash, but not really enough to count when all was said and done. I never gave my all at work once I had a child at home. There were the times I'd call in sick because he was sick, and I guess maybe because I was pregnant too, I didn't feel well and it felt like I called in sick all the time. Nicholas was my priority and although there is nothing wrong with that, it still was not fair to my workplace.

I was mulling over all this the other day, because I noticed a job-posting at the public library down the road from us. It was THE perfect job, part-time and at a brand new library to boot. I wanted to apply so badly. I knew I'd get it in a heartbeat with my experience. But I didn't apply. For all of the reasons I mentioned above and also I just really strongly feel that in this season of my life, I need to be home. My kids need me. Jacob starts school in the fall and I want to be able to volunteer for both boys' classes. I just really want to be here for my kids. Maybe someday when they're all grown up...

Daddy's girl.

Lucas, to Amelia: "Amelia, do you love Mommy? Can you say 'I love you, Mommy'?" 

Silence. 

Lucas again: "Can you say 'I love you, Mommy'?" 

Amelia, gazing adoringly at her daddy: "Daddy, wuv." 

Lucas laughed, and I groaned. This little girl adores her daddy so much, but I'm sure there will be room in her life for me someday, right? Right?

Taken in 2009, shortly after she was born,
but not much has changed since!

Birthday boy.

Six years ago (has it really been six years?) tomorrow I gave birth to my first baby. I remember that I had no idea what to expect motherhood to be like. I was never a "kid" person, was never able to relate to other people's kids. (Side note: This has gotten better since I've had my own kids and kind of learned a little more about how kids "tick".) I was really anticipating motherhood with a lot of trepidation. I didn't know if I would love my child, as awful as that sounds. I had a long labour, starting at 7:30 Tuesday morning, May 10th, and ending the next morning at 11:00 on the dot. It was slow progress and I was scared, but when I saw that screaming little face, my heart melted and I have not been the same since. I never expected to feel so instantly attached to my child. I know this does not happen to everyone, that a lot of people feel their baby is a stranger and bond with them later. Everyone has a different experience, but for me, I knew him right away and he pulled my heart strings so tightly that I think he is still walking around with my heart in his hands.

It's hard to believe I felt this way, but I did. Nicholas made me a mommy and I love him with everything in me. He has the capacity to break my heart, turn around, and make my heart soar. He has taught me more about patience and love than anyone else in my life. He is the child that is the truest reflection of me. Just by being himself, he reveals the worst, and best, parts of me. I often lament about how strong willed he is. I despair of ever teaching him right and leading him down the right path. But I also often think that if I did not have him, I would never strive to be a better parent. It is so right that he is here in this family, and that he came first. If I did not have Nicholas, I would never play with my kids, because the other two do not demand it of me like he does. Nor would I ever (or hardly ever) have to pray for patience, or wisdom, or humour. My other two kids are so "easy" (in comparison), which is definitely good, but Nicholas keeps me on my toes. I am so thankful for this amazing little boy who has blessed me beyond measure. He is funny, and compassionate, and kind. He is smart as a whip and always two steps ahead of me. He is one of the most determined and confident people I know, and if I can channel his personality in the right direction, this boy will go very far in life.

Happy birthday, big boy. I can't believe you are six. Mommy loves you so very much.

 (This is so Nicholas. In front of him you see his creation 

of a soccer field, with all his Lego men as players. 
Please ignore the dirty sock sitting next to him.)

The good and the bad.

This week has been ever so long. It's only Wednesday and all day I kept thinking that surely it must be Friday by now. My week started out so great and it's slowly been going downhill. Well, actually that's not completely honest. It really hasn't been that bad of a week, just extremely mentally draining. Nicholas is still sick, and the combination of cleaning up after him, being out of my normal routine, and just being more confined to the house has really gotten to me. We did get out today, but I'm worried it may have been too much for my sick boy. All three kids played outside in the gorgeous weather for a good 45 minutes before supper. It was good for them, but it tuckered them right out. I'm so thankful that so far no one else has gotten sick. But now that I've written that, someone probably will.

The boys and I had a conversation about God yesterday. We were listening to the song "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" ... They started talking about how very big God must be if He can hold the whole world in His hands. Jacob said he's pretty sure God can hold the whole world in just one hand. Nicholas commented on how when he was little :) he used to think that God had lots and lots of eyes so He would be able to see everything. I secretly think that maybe he still thinks that. ;) I love when I have conversations like this with my boys. They're so bright and funny. I love seeing the world and God through their eyes.

And it's things like that that make the week seem much more bearable. I see how funny and sweet and smart my kids are and I just wish I noticed it more. I wish I didn't focus so much on their faults and correcting them all the time. I feel like I've been yelling at Jacob so much the last few days and he is the most gentle little boy ever. They don't deserve my harsh words. Okay, I'm going to stop before this turns into a negative post. I just wanted to say that I love my kids and think they're the greatest.

Goodnight, everyone.

Half-full.

It seems like a week has passed since 7:00 this morning when I first got up. First of all, it was not our normal routine. Nicholas was sick and I kept him home from school. That threw us off a bit. Also, because Nicholas has been sick, because Jacob went to bed late last night, and because Amelia was awake from 12:00-2:00 this morning, I thought for sure they'd all sleep in. I actually uttered the words, "If the kids sleep in, don't wake us up since Nicholas isn't going to school anyway," to Lucas last night while crawling into bed. Ha. Ha. Ha. I find that when I utter things like that, it means I've pretty much jinxed myself of whatever it is I'm hoping for. SO, that was how my day started: absence of routine + hopes dashed of sleeping in = headache of epic proportions.

There were a couple of redeeming things from today though, which made the day a step above not worth living. 1. I was actually able to take a 40 minute nap. Let's mark that one on the calendar and celebrate it every year. 2. I read my Bible, which doesn't happen as often as it should these days. I read the whole book of Habakkuk. You wouldn't think at first glance that a young, 21st century mother would have much to learn from an ancient Old Testament prophet, but oddly enough, I found lots of encouragement from this little book. 3. In the car today, my most random child (Jacob) piped up from the back seat, "Mommy, knights steal things from people and they don't even say fank you! That is very bad!" I love my Cubba. His randomness never fails to make me smile. 4. Tim Horton's coffee with my mom this morning, although we didn't win anything in the roll up the rim contest. 5. Not having to take Nicholas to swimming lessons was a bonus.

So I guess the day was not all that bad. Actually, in the book I just read "Calm My Anxious Heart" the author pointed out that our perspective has a lot to do with how we feel about any given circumstance. If you think negatively about something, then the situation automatically becomes negative. If you choose to think positively, your outlook completely changes. And because I tend to be a glass-half-empty kind of person, life can look pretty dark sometimes. I don't think this is the way God wants me to be though, so I'm trying to make an effort to be more positive about things.

I recently asked an older, wiser, more experienced mother how she managed to raise four active boys and she said she prayed everyday for four things: wisdom, patience, love and humour. I think she is right. Things can look so much brighter if you can just see the funny side of things.

Okay, I'm ending the rambling right about now.