Jason

Here is a fun little video of Jason babbling away.  He's all hot and sweaty experiencing the joys of no A/C at Lora's house, but sweet nonetheless.
  

Baby Joseph

I am falling behind with my posts so I decided to do this one with more pictures and less chit chat.  

Here is my gorgeous little daughter on one of her last days of school.  Isn't she cute?

She's a big girl now that she's going into 4th grade, but I hope she never stops letting me play with her hair.  It's too much fun.

For Memorial Day weekend, we took the family down to L.A. to visit with the Spencers.  Lora, one day away from her due date, thought it would be a fantastic idea to take everyone to the beach for the day.  I thought it sounded like a lot of work and opted to stay with Jason at the house so that he could get a good nap after that drive.

Robert took the kids, but not the suntan loation, however.  They had a blast until they all came back different shades of red.

Ethan turned into a shade of red that I don't think I've ever seen before.   Here he is before he knew just how much he was going to pay for that fair skin.

Since Lora's baby didn't care to come on his due-date, Lora thought it would be a brilliant idea to go to a major theme park to hurry him on.  All I know is that you don't argue with crazy pregnant ladies.  So off we went to Knotts Berry Farm.  

Here is Jason on his very first amusement ride.  He was rather concerned but soon enough he got into the spirit of it.

Here we are on a swinging boat ride.  Lora was determined to go on the ride, despite the teenage-ride worker's rather weak protests, until she realized that the bar couldn't click because of her gigantic belly. Ha.  I did mention 'crazy pregnant lady' right?  

This little ride is called the Huff and Puff.  I thought it would be too big for Jason since it requires the children to do all the work, pushing the bar back and forth to make the cars go.  However, Jason soon got the drift, and when he didn't go fast enough, the other kids bumper-car-ed him along.  They all loved it so much they did it two time in a row.  

And then we sat around and waited.    

We waited and waited and waited.

But still no baby.  We did have one hospital run with false labor and many nights of stop and go labor....but no actual baby.

Jason turned to drinking.

And drinking....

Until it became a very obvious problem.

To save Jason from his vices and disappointment, we packed up and went home.

Two days later, after Mom and Dad arrived, baby Joseph showed his very cute little face.  I'm also told he came with carrot red hair.  Well, I just might forgive him for not arriving on time, since I'm partial to red-heads.

Naomi, Joseph & Porter

I expect a lot of my big kids sometimes.  I expect them to do their chores and do their school work.  (yes, even in the summer)  I expect them to behave at church and to be thoughtful in their prayers.  I expect them to watch over their little brother safely while I take a shower or make up dinner.  I expect them to treat each other kindly and to behave when I give them directions.

Now, I don't expect that they will always do exactly what I expect them to do.  I get that they are kids.  Sometimes the chores are poorly done.  Sometimes they whine and sometimes they throw a fit.  Sometimes they think that letting Jason balance on a chair is good fun.  Sometimes they fight.  I'm not worried about any of that.  I have my good and bad moments too, just like they do.

What I do tend to forget is just how young they are.  The twins still beg me to sing to them at night.  They insist on at least 5 hugs and kisses because the first 4 were not properly done.  Austin and Alaina both want to be tucked in, and although they don't make a big deal about it, without fail, they snuggle up to their special bears.

Ethan, being so much older and mature, pretends indifference when I come to sing to him.   'Sure,' he shrugs... 'if you want to,' he'll mutter when I ask to put him to bed.  Then, as the song starts he puts out his arms to be scratched and maybe turns to his belly so I can rub his back.  When I ask for my hug he gives a half hearted, limp armed lean.  When I shout out how lame of a hugger he is and demand a better attempt, he giggles and gives me a long, tight, bear hug.  If we are have an especially lovey dove night, he'll ask me to squish him.

Squish him, you ask?  Well, when I was a little girl I shared a room with Gina.  She is six years older than me and so after I was already sound asleep, she'd come in and roll all over me, complaining, 'Why is my bed so bumpy?!!  What is wrong with this old bumpy bed?  I need to smooth it out!"  As she smashed and smoothed me flat, she'd throw a pillow over my head and try to sleep on it.  Only after being squished awake and barely able to grunt out a muffled, 'It's Me!!!!' did she pick up the pillow that she had smashed over my face and with a surprised voice say, 'Christy!  What are you doing in my bed?'

Once I told Ethan the story and after a demonstration, it became the 'Squishing' routine.  A sure sign of love.

Each night, after I close the doors to my children's rooms, I trudge down the hall, for what is usually my 6th try.  Tonight when I got to my room, I sat down on my bed and realized that although I expect so much maturity from them during the day, I also expect this tender, childish routine every night.  I expect the sugar and silliness.  I expect to hear their sweet prayers and feel their arms tighten around my neck when I try to leave.  I expect the wet kisses on my cheek and chorus of 'I love you's at night.

What I don't expect and I don't want to expect is that sometime sooner than I want, the doors will close tight before I come to say goodnight.  What will I do when they push me instead of pull me to them?  I dread the day that they are too cool to hear me sing to them and the attention they really want is from their friends at school.  Since I can hardly even face the idea of them growing independent of me, I refuse to acknowledge the possibility.  So, instead, I'm just going to enjoy every evening ritual and pretend that our nights will forever be spent the same way.  Possibly not the most realistic approach, but certainly the most bearable.  While I'm at it, I might as well squeeze in as many 'Squishings' as I can get away with...