Last Saturday, I took Joseph to the Rochester School District's Bi-Annual Arts Festival. Participation was not mandatory, but we were happy to go. As I walked Joseph in to the gym, I had a twisted sense of deja vu. It seemed so few years ago that I was the student getting ready for a concert.
Choir has always been a passion of mine; not just singing, but specifically ensemble singing (which includes musical theater.) I love how a group of individuals can come together to make a beautiful and amazing sound woven together. Unfortunately, I was part of a school choir where the majority of students didn't share my passion to excel in the choir, it was more of a class to take for an easy 'A'. Our sound, as a whole, was lacking, even though we did have a few real talents.
So as I sat in the gym of Rochester High School waiting to hear Joseph's school sing, I was experiencing a weird combination of sensations. Part of me felt like I should be preparing myself to sing, and the other part felt pride in my son for performing. I had a sense of feeling what my Mom may have felt hen she came to watch me perform, while at the same time, feeling entirely too young to have a child in school performing (as it was obviously just the other day when I was on stage performing.)
I guess I was feeling a bit of nostalgia; a fond remembrance for something I wish I could still be a part of. Not my high school choir necessarily, but something. My best choir memories are from being a part of Ambassadors of Music. This was a choir of about a hundred high school students from all over the state, where each member had a true passion and talent. We were given one week to learn all the music on our own, and one weekend to practice is as a choir before leaving for a European tour. It was the most amazing sound, the most amazing experience.
Anyway, enough reminiscing. The boys are playing well together before Joseph leaves for school. We are excited to have some company this weekend. Greg, Janell, and Peyton will be staying with us Sunay night. It will tae the rest of this week to get the boys to get their rooms cleaned up. I usually end up doing all the work, but I don't want to this time. I want the boys to learn some responsibility, and not to expect that I will always do it for them. But that means that it takes much longer, and I have to let go of some of the OCD driven perfection. Let's just say it's. Work n progress.
I have to make sure Joseph is ready for school. I'll be back later.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Four Months To Go
First of all, happy birthday Dad.
Okay, I am going to have to make this quick...Andrew is screaming, ready for his nap. Andrew is eight months old today. Only four more months until my baby is one year old. I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be done with the baby stage. And since everyone who matters is determined that we won't have any more kids...this is my last baby phase.
So here are all my kids' pictures from when they were eight months old.
Joseph
Nick
Ethan
Andrew
Time's out. Andrew won't be ignored any more.
Okay, I am going to have to make this quick...Andrew is screaming, ready for his nap. Andrew is eight months old today. Only four more months until my baby is one year old. I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be done with the baby stage. And since everyone who matters is determined that we won't have any more kids...this is my last baby phase.
So here are all my kids' pictures from when they were eight months old.
Joseph
Nick
Ethan
Andrew
Time's out. Andrew won't be ignored any more.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
I Became A Mom Seven Years Ago
The alarm clock went off at 6:00am. Nick got up to get ready for work, and noticing that I was awake, asked if I was okay. I felt a little uncomfortable; nothing I could exactly pin down. I thought I was having some mild contractions, but having never been in labor before, I wasn't certain that what I was feeling was, in fact, labor. I told Nick to go to work. I had a doctor's appointment a few hours later and I would call him if I needed him home.
I made it to my appointment, feeling more confident that I may be in labor, but since I was already scheduled, I figured I would let the experts tell me. I was shown to the examine room and the nurse walked in. She looked at me and said, "You don't look like you feel very well. You look like you are in labor." They hooked me up to a monitor and, sure enough, I was having steady contractions about every three minutes. I got on my cell phone and called Nick. He was kind of exasperated...I mean excited. (You know how men are; they kind of fall apart for the first birth.) He had driven the work truck to work, so he didn't have his car, and had to borrow somebody else's to get home.
Then I called mom. Actually, I paged her. She was at work, too. She was scheduled to work in Hillsboro, but had been flown to Aurora, so she didn't have her car either. She also borrowed a coworker's to get to the hospital. Thankfully, her boss said, "No one stands in the way of grandbabies being born." and had no problem letting her off work.
I drove myself home, feeling the contractions more keenly. I called Aubrey on the way to let her know, and I had a hard time concentrating on what I was saying. It was a very stilted conversation. Nick and I were very good first time pregnant people....we had our bags packed and ready to go. Unfortunately, we hadn't loaded them in the car. Nick told me to wait for him, but he was still an hour away, and the doctor had already called the hospital to have me admitted. So, of course, I didn't wait for him. I kept busy waiting so the time went by faster.
I was thrilled to be ushered right to an LDRP room when we arrived at the hospital. I was quite terrified of having to go to the "prove-it" room. The lady who taught our birthing class told us about the room the nurses call the "prove-it" room. It's just the exam room that you go to when you show up at the hospital believing yourself in labor, and they hook you up to the monitors and do a physical exam to make sure you are in labor. She also told of the high numbers of women who came in and were sent home. I was terrified of being in that number. So I was relieved to be able to skip that step.
We got settled into our room, turned on my relaxing music, turned on my fan (very important) and settled in for a nice long day. My mom, my mother-in-law, and my sister-in-law joined us. I remember being worried about how bored everybody must be. There really wasn't anything to do but watch the monitor go up and down with my contractions. I enjoyed being in the whirlpool bath, but the first time Nick turned on the bubbles, I immediately lost concentration, and to have them kept off. I asked mom at one point how far apart my contractions were, because they felt one on top of another. I was certain she was wrong when she told me they were two minutes apart. She obviously had never gone through labor before, or she would have known that they were really much closer than the clock showed.
I'll tell you what; there is NOBODY better to have during labor than my mom. I love my husband, and he was the best, doing what he could, and whatever I needed, he saw to it that I had. But my mom was able to give me that childhood comfort that I always got from her. She knew when to be quietly comforting, and when to be vocally encouraging. And to have her there to hold my child as soon as he was born (after Nick and I) was a very special moment for me.
It was also special to me to have my mother-in-law with me. This was her first born son having his first born son. It is a precious memory.
The moment finally came for Joseph to be born. It was the absolutely most amazing experience. The very best part of pregnancy is giving birth. And then to hold my son for the very first time; words simply can't describe how wonderful.
And today, it has been seven years since that day. SEVEN. I still love to hold him. I love that he still wants me to. I don't hold him often anymore, and every few days he will ask to rock with me since, "I don't get to rock with you much anymore" as he says. He can try my patience, he's a school age know it all who doesn't believe his mom can possibly know more than him, and he can be the biggest bully to his brothers, but he is still my precious Bubba. He prefers to be called Joseph now, but I often forget. In fact, Joe is usually called "Ethnijoe", just as Nick is called "Joeethnick", and Ethan is "Nijoethan." He is the first to try to smooth over my upset feelings when the kids have pushed too many buttons. He stills mentions to me when I have forgotten to ask him how he slept or given him a good morning hug. He is still my love bug and I am incredibly proud of him.
One of the five best days of my life was seven years ago today. I love that I am reminded of that everyday I see my son.
I made it to my appointment, feeling more confident that I may be in labor, but since I was already scheduled, I figured I would let the experts tell me. I was shown to the examine room and the nurse walked in. She looked at me and said, "You don't look like you feel very well. You look like you are in labor." They hooked me up to a monitor and, sure enough, I was having steady contractions about every three minutes. I got on my cell phone and called Nick. He was kind of exasperated...I mean excited. (You know how men are; they kind of fall apart for the first birth.) He had driven the work truck to work, so he didn't have his car, and had to borrow somebody else's to get home.
Then I called mom. Actually, I paged her. She was at work, too. She was scheduled to work in Hillsboro, but had been flown to Aurora, so she didn't have her car either. She also borrowed a coworker's to get to the hospital. Thankfully, her boss said, "No one stands in the way of grandbabies being born." and had no problem letting her off work.
I drove myself home, feeling the contractions more keenly. I called Aubrey on the way to let her know, and I had a hard time concentrating on what I was saying. It was a very stilted conversation. Nick and I were very good first time pregnant people....we had our bags packed and ready to go. Unfortunately, we hadn't loaded them in the car. Nick told me to wait for him, but he was still an hour away, and the doctor had already called the hospital to have me admitted. So, of course, I didn't wait for him. I kept busy waiting so the time went by faster.
I was thrilled to be ushered right to an LDRP room when we arrived at the hospital. I was quite terrified of having to go to the "prove-it" room. The lady who taught our birthing class told us about the room the nurses call the "prove-it" room. It's just the exam room that you go to when you show up at the hospital believing yourself in labor, and they hook you up to the monitors and do a physical exam to make sure you are in labor. She also told of the high numbers of women who came in and were sent home. I was terrified of being in that number. So I was relieved to be able to skip that step.
We got settled into our room, turned on my relaxing music, turned on my fan (very important) and settled in for a nice long day. My mom, my mother-in-law, and my sister-in-law joined us. I remember being worried about how bored everybody must be. There really wasn't anything to do but watch the monitor go up and down with my contractions. I enjoyed being in the whirlpool bath, but the first time Nick turned on the bubbles, I immediately lost concentration, and to have them kept off. I asked mom at one point how far apart my contractions were, because they felt one on top of another. I was certain she was wrong when she told me they were two minutes apart. She obviously had never gone through labor before, or she would have known that they were really much closer than the clock showed.
I'll tell you what; there is NOBODY better to have during labor than my mom. I love my husband, and he was the best, doing what he could, and whatever I needed, he saw to it that I had. But my mom was able to give me that childhood comfort that I always got from her. She knew when to be quietly comforting, and when to be vocally encouraging. And to have her there to hold my child as soon as he was born (after Nick and I) was a very special moment for me.
It was also special to me to have my mother-in-law with me. This was her first born son having his first born son. It is a precious memory.
The moment finally came for Joseph to be born. It was the absolutely most amazing experience. The very best part of pregnancy is giving birth. And then to hold my son for the very first time; words simply can't describe how wonderful.
And today, it has been seven years since that day. SEVEN. I still love to hold him. I love that he still wants me to. I don't hold him often anymore, and every few days he will ask to rock with me since, "I don't get to rock with you much anymore" as he says. He can try my patience, he's a school age know it all who doesn't believe his mom can possibly know more than him, and he can be the biggest bully to his brothers, but he is still my precious Bubba. He prefers to be called Joseph now, but I often forget. In fact, Joe is usually called "Ethnijoe", just as Nick is called "Joeethnick", and Ethan is "Nijoethan." He is the first to try to smooth over my upset feelings when the kids have pushed too many buttons. He stills mentions to me when I have forgotten to ask him how he slept or given him a good morning hug. He is still my love bug and I am incredibly proud of him.
One of the five best days of my life was seven years ago today. I love that I am reminded of that everyday I see my son.
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