Happy Birthday to My Little Sister!

27 years ago, I became a big sister to the cutest baby girl ever (I can still say that since all my own children are boys).  That day was the highlight of my childhood. Seriously.  I was 8.5 when my sister was born.  But to understand the joy of her birth, you must go back a few years.

Remember those school assignments in kindergarten and first grade where you draw a picture of what you could be if you could be anything in the world? Or the project to draw what you wanted most in the world (if money was not an issue).  The answer to those school projects was always the same for me.  I wanted a baby sister.  I wanted a baby sister in the WORST WAY.  Here is my "Dream Cloud" project from 1st Grade I think.

The front

The back side which shows me, a baby sister crying and what I assume is a teddy bear?

I talked about it.  I drew about it.  And I prayed about it.

It got to the point one day that my parents had to have a talk with me.  I don't remember the exact words, but it was something like this "Leslie, I'm sorry but I don't think you will be getting a baby sister."

Then one day when I was in 2nd grade, we had a family meeting where we found out that we would in fact be adding another Walmer to the family.  I just knew in my heart of hearts that it would be a girl.  I mean, I already had two older brothers what would be the point of any more brothers?  My mom continually warned me that it could be a boy (this was all pre-ultrasound technology) but I dismissed those warnings because I just knew it was a baby sister.

Natalie might be lacking in clothes, but clearly I was lacking teeth which is much worse.

I can remember clearly being called out of my 3rd grade classroom on that wintery December 15th in 1987.  My grandparents picked us kids up and drove us to the hospital.  We were in the waiting room.  My dad came out and announced it was a girl.  I did a cartwheel. Yep, a cartwheel in the waiting room and maybe some screaming.  My heart was overjoyed -- a sister at last! 

My heart has been filled with joy at having a sister so many times over these past 27 years.  So many fun memories over the years--trips, holidays, movies, music, lots of professional pictures and lots of matching clothes (but we'll save those pictures for another post). We have a decent-sized age gap between us (over 8 year) but she is still my best friend for life. 

In the last few years, we've shared more of life's adventures as she has gotten married and has a son.  Now we swap kid stories.  We've also added lots of miles between us (I'm in Illinois and she is in Delaware) but it doesn't matter.  She is still my sister.  She is still my best friend for life.  She is the first person that comes to mind when I see a sign that says "You had me at bacon."  She is the first person I text when I see a old musical on TV and think of the many times we watched it as kids.  She is the first person that comes to mind so often--with tv shows, jokes, music, memories.  I don't get to see her in person as much as I would like to these days, but I am so proud of the woman she has become.  She's a great friend, loving wife and wonderful mom.  She's hardworking, fun and beautiful. 

Happy 27th Natalie!  

I love you!  

Also, your birthday present hasn't been mailed yet (some things never change!)

Love,

"The Big One"

Family Pictures 2014

For several years now, I have asked for one gift each birthday: family pictures.  Now I'm not talking about JC Penney Portrait studio pictures.  There is nothing inherently wrong with studio pictures (we still do them most years for Christmas) but I want "real life" pictures not posed in front of a fake fireplace.  Also, I don't want to wait in a long line with 4 boys and I'm pretty sure no one else in that line wants us to wait in the line either--we are after all FOUR boys.  Besides, I'm looking for something different than studio pictures.  I want to see us.

I want pictures where we run around.

I want snapshots of what this stage of life is really like for our family.  I want the messy because oh my goodness is this stage messy!!!

I want to remember the sweetness of these young boys who are quick to give affection.

I want to remember the missing teeth.

I want to remember the dimples in the sunlight.

I want to remember climbing trees.

I want to remember the three weeks where I didn't have my wedding band, just my engagement ring, because a certain 3 year old hid it in the crevices of our couch.

I want to remember the hugs

that quickly turn into wrestling.

I want to remember the hand-holding.

I want to remember the embraces.

I want to remember the toddler on my hip.

I want to remember the laughter.

I want to remember the bittersweet emotions of sending this handsome one to Kindergarten.

I want to remember the seriousness of a second-grader who no longer needs my help when reading but is still willing to snuggle up and let me read to him.

I want to remember the climbing fences (well the boys climbing fences, not me).

I want to remember the love.

Because it was here.  Sometimes it was hidden in between fights or tantrums or tears, but it was always here.  After a season full of work (so much work!) & stress that moving across town involves, we needed an afternoon of play.  An afternoon of picking wildflowers and wrestling.

An afternoon of running down hills and being caught by daddy.

An afternoon of sitting in the grass and telling each other why we are still here and what makes each other a good parent.  An afternoon of singing the Veggie Tales theme song but replacing words to make it "Caleb Tales" and the smile it elicited. 

Sometimes it is easy for me to get bogged down by the daily failures and struggles that life provides and forget the adventure that I am on.  Then I take an afternoon "off" from it all to take family pictures.  I get the family pictures, but I ended up with something more.

I am reminded of all the good again and I see it easily when I focus on the right things.  The wild love.  The loudness. The sweetness.  The growing.  The messiness.  The adventure.  The grace.  I am reminded of the blessing to live this life with this crew of 5 men.  The blessing to share a story with this man.  I am grateful.

Thanks to Sarah Carter Studio for capturing our spirited family in these photos that I will treasure for years to come.

September 15th

Every September, my heart catches a little.  This is the time of year that I think of what would have been. What could have been.  Its been five years and I still have questions.  Was it a son or a daughter? Why was there no heartbeart where there had been one before?  Why a surprise pregnancy just to have it slip through my fingers several weeks later?

The physical pain is long gone.  The emotional pain is mostly past as well--but there is remembering.  There is remembering what was lost during that hard season.  There is the remembering--the quiet ultrasound, the tears, the hospital visit and the due date that never came to fruition.  There is remembering the person that I was before and who I am now, after.

A hard, hard season followed that D & C in February 2009.  A summer where my belly should have been growing was instead filled with me pushing my body to run to longer and longer distances.  In place of my baby's birth, I celebrated my due date with my first half-marathon.  At the time, I thought that if my body was going to fail me, then I would force it to do something hard--the hardest thing I could think of doing.

I remember those runs like they were yesterday.  Runs fueled by anger and disappointment with tears often close at bay.  Looking back, I realize that those runs were a huge part of my healing.  Everyone heals in their own time and their own way. For me, running

Last fall, I was sitting in church one day and during worship we began singing Matt Redman's song, Blessed Be Your Name.  During the song, the lyrics got to me and I found myself singing with tears in my eyes and remembering in my heart.  I was surprised that I really meant the words with my whole heart and even while remembering the loss. 

You give and take away
You give and take away
Still my heart will say
Lord, blessed be your name

Soaking up the moments

Since we had our twins first and then the rest of the boys pretty close in age, it has always been a special treat to have one-on-one time with any of the boys.  To have regular, weekly one-on-one time with Caleb has been a new thing for us this fall.  I'm not gonna lie, its delicious.  There are no quarrels to break up and no personal space being invaded (other than my own and generally I'm pretty good about not hitting people when they invade mine).

Three days a week, Caleb and I have the morning together, just the two of us.  I'm trying my best to soak this up and ignore the never-ending "to do" list that is calling my name.  There are still breakfast dishes to clean, two minute showers to be taken and laundry to be switched out.  But as much as possible, I'm snuggling up with him in our living room chair and reading through his favorite books.  Right now, he's on a Sandra Boynton streak.  So, we are reading Blue Hat, Green Hat and But Not The Hippopotamus like they're going out of style.  He giggles each time we say Oops.  He is wiggly and constantly elbowing me during our reading time, but its still precious to me.

Sometimes we pull out the alphabet legos and build the tallest towers we can.  And I do my best not to cringe when he knocks it down splattering legos EVERYWHERE on our hardwood floors.

Last week, we took a much anticipated trip to the library as a reward for having "gentle hands" the ENTIRE four hours of preschool (that's a whole different post).  For not being able to read, he did amazingly well at finding the only 2 veggietales books in the library, 4 veggietales cds and 2 veggietales movies.  Are you noticing a theme?  
On the way out and across the parking lot to the car, I was carrying him and each step I took, he would give me a light head bump or kiss on my neck.  It tickled, so I laughed.  The more I laughed, the louder his laughter got.  About halfway to the car, he got hiccups (this always happens when he laughs his deep belly laughs) but kept laughing.  The two of us giggled and giggled in the sunshine that afternoon.  I don't think I'll ever forget it. 

There is something just delicious about one-on-one moments with the people you love.  I'm really enjoying this new season of parenting where I'm able to do this more regularly.

Anticipating Kindergarten

For the last week, this sweet boy has been a bundle of nerves about the start of Kindergarten.  There is excitement--ordering his hot lunches, picking out a new shirt for the first day of school, dropping off school supplies.  But it doesn't take long for the fear to move in.  Fear that he won't have friends.  Fear that being shy means he won't succeed.  Fear that he might get teased.  Fear that he isn't enough.

I keep holding him and telling him the truth: You are enough.  You are loved.  Shy doesn't mean you can't succeed.  You have friends.  You are enough!

I look at this smile, this smile that so many love and I think "how can he think he won't make friends?"

I look at those sparkling blue eyes of laughter and mischief and I wonder how he doesn't know what I know? Why doesn't he know that he will do great?  Why doesn't he know that he has friends?  He will love school.  I just know it.  He will make even more friends than he already has.

I look at my boy who feels so deeply and sometimes wish that he didn't feel the fear so deeply.  I sometimes wish he didn't feel the sadness of upcoming changes but I don't get to choose how he is wired.  God did choose how Aaron was wired and he knew what he was doing.  He didn't make a mistake making this boy so sensitive and sweet.  This boy that feels fear also feels joy.  He loves without limits and he gives grace abundantly. 

I wonder how my six-year-old can let these voices in his head tell him that he's not good enough, not well-liked enough, not loveable.  Then I look at myself and I think about how many days have I told myself that I am not enough, that I am not loveable, that I am not a good enough mother, that I am not attractive enough and I know.  I know how he can do this because he listens to those other voices in his head and not God's truth.  I know because I'm thirty-give and I do this all the time--way more than I'd care to admit because I like to seem like I have it together.

Just like Aaron's creeps downstairs after bedtime telling me that he is having dreams about not having friends at school, I will tell a friend in my most honest moments that I don't feel like enough.  This friend will give me words: You are Enough, You are Loved, You have been Redeemed.  This friend will remind me, just like I remind Aaron. 

Change brings up so many emotions--excitement and fear.  One more day and then the anticipation process will be over and Kindergarten will have started and he will know in a tangible way what to expect.  Until then, I will keep holding him and whispering: You are loved, You are enough, You have been redeemed because it is true.

The night before Second Grade

I'm pretty sure that school just ended, so I'm not sure how its time for it to begin again.  I feel like I blinked and summer was gone.  I know we enjoyed lots of fun moments here and there but the main theme for this summer was chaos & work.  Since April, we've been working on moving and ALL the craziness that endeavor entails, especially when you do it while you also are keeping four boys alive.  I could go on and on about that, but that's for another time when I'm not so exhausted and behind on everything--although I'm not sure that time will ever come.

Tonight is about 2nd grade.  Did you hear me? SECOND GRADE?  How did my tiny firstborn baby boys grow up enough to be ready for this?  I look at them and sometimes still see this.

I also feel like we just dropped them off at their first day of preschool.

But no, here we are in 2nd grade.  They are thrilled to be going back to school--to be able to see their friends again and have recess.  And, to be honest, I'm looking forward to the routine that the school year brings. 

Today we bought new shirts for the first day of school, dropped off school supplies and met their new teachers.  All the logistical and practical arrangements have been made.  Even though our entire garage is full of things to be unpacked, we managed to keep track of the lunchboxes and backpacks so we're all set for packing up in the morning.

 We had a rough "last day" before school started.  We just got back from vacation and had a bunch of errands to run which meant lots of fighting, whining, tantrums, so by the time bedtime rolled around tonight, I was more than ready to dial it in and just send them to bed without any fanfare or let Jon tuck them in without me like I do whenever he isn't working late.

However, tonight we did the most important preparation of all.  We tucked their little brothers into bed and then James, Andrew, Jon & I sat in our bed.  At first, they wanted to know why I wanted to see them in my room and then Andrew shouted that he knew.  It is our back to school routine.  We always read them a letter the night before school starts.  Its the same hand-written letter each year.  The only thing we change is the grade that they are going into.  After the letter is read, we discuss what it means.  Usually stories from the last year come up--either about a time they felt lonely/made-fun of or when they saw another kid and what they did about it.

Our pastor at church is always saying that "the only thing that you can take into eternity is people."  I believe in this so strongly that I think this preparation of our boys is more important than the newly sharpened pencils and the 1st day of school outfit.  I would love it if my boys did well in school, but I care more about them doing well with people.  I want them to be boys who love deeply and show grace madly.  I want them to always know that people are what matter--not stuff, not grades, not awards. 

Of course, after the heart to heart about compassion, James also informed me that his toe had a mark on it and that it felt like a giant booger was coming out of his nose.  We take our serious conversations and pepper them with boy comments about boogers and silliness.  During this talk, Andrew was also icing his hand (after having shut it in our minivan an hour earlier) which lead me to realize that their fingernails needed to be cut again, so we did some final hygiene prep for tomorrow and trimmed 20 fingernails. 

We have no pictures because honestly, I barely had the energy to squeeze in this ritual but I'm glad I did. 

Here's to a great year in 2nd grade!

Goodbye #2701 Orchard

Its been about almost a week since we returned home from our annual summer trip to Grandma Mary & Pa Lynn's house in Pennsylvania.  This year's trip was a little different than normal as it was our last one to say in their house at 2701 Orchard Avenue.  They are in the process of relocating/retiring so they sold their home to make it easy for them to leave for Delaware whenever they are ready.

For now, they will still be in the same town so we didn't have to say our official goodbyes to the town...yet!  Saying goodbye to the house itself turned out to be much more emotional for the boys & I than I had anticipated.

This isn't the home that I grew up in, but it has been where my parents have lived since I was in college.  It is the only home that the boys know to think of when they think of Grandma & Papa.  Its where we have had our family pictures taken for the last five summers.  Its where my parents first met Jon.  Its where Jon & I returned to after being engaged (he proposed while we were home visiting my parents for Thanksgiving).  Its where my kids have gone to "Grandma & Grandpa Camp" every summer.  Its where they have destroyed my dad's flowers with a baseball bat.  Its where they have climbed trees, played catch and taken hundreds of baths.

This is the house where Andrew (at 18 months) danced around in a diaper and snow boots while we laughed hysterically.

This is the house where Aaron celebrated his first birthday.

This is where my babies (Caleb this time) have bathed in the kitchen sink.

This is the house where James has created countless treasures out of Grandma's trash.

This is the house where we showered my baby sister as we anticipated Harvey's pending arrival.

This is the house where we've celebrated Christmas, Easter and countless birthdays.

This is the house where I have left my babies in my parent's care while Jon & I have gone on much-needed vacations alone.

This is the house where we've spent time with cousins, run through the sprinkler, sat on the front porch and eaten countless meals.

There are so many memories here.  So many good memories.  The tears flowed for my boys at having to say goodbye to this house.  This house holds treasured times for them, love and so much joy.  This is a home away from home.

What I already know and what my boys are only discovering is that you don't leave those things behind when you move.  You take them with you. And in the midst of sadness, there is always room for a little silliness and joy.

I'm grateful for all the memories we created at #2701 and looking forward to building new ones at the next place.