DRY Ink

Over the holiday break I managed to wrestle Joe from Tifani’s grasp, and let me just tell you, I’ve had easier times wrestling bears in the wild.

With my hard earned time, I managed to teach him how to shave,

and convince him that he wanted to “stay the night for a year.”

In my defense it wasn’t my idea for him to stay for a year, he came up with that all on his own. (But in the interest of full disclosure, I did suggest he ask his parents about every 15 minutes on New Year’s Eve. They really appreciated that.)

It is not my fault he likes it here. It only proves what we’ve suspected all long: I was meant to be a mother to a pack of boys. Which is really weird, because we are the adoption list for a girl and I’m only moving through the Sants to get to Sari. (Shhh, don’t tell.) Anyway, I’m sure I pretty much rawk at this whole parenting thing. Maybe I should go ahead and shoot for Bruno too. Only what Bruno and I do together can’t really be classified as parenting, more like hanging out, telling fart jokes and swapping apps. It really shows me what a good time Jacob and I could have had together if it wasn’t for that whole damn parenting thing. Man that got in the way. But I have no time for reflection, I have Sants to collect. Clearly, this is no time to analyze ‘why’.

Emie,

Well crap, I’m late with your birthday letter. Again. It’s your fault really, for being born in the middle of hurricane season and the start of school. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it and what a rough pregnancy you were, YOU should be writing ME birthday letters. Get on that will you?

So seven years and four days ago, a combination of your failure to thrive and my whining to my OB resulted in you showing up at 3:09 pm, (after a little help from Pitocin.) You were by far my easiest labor, which I really appreciate but kinda of feel like you owed me after being so difficult for the proceeding nine months.

Since that day seven years ago, I have to be honest and admit, you’ve kinda been a joy and much easier than the boys. (Don’t tell them I said that.) Now I don’t want you to get the big head and think that you are without the drama. You are way more sensitive than ANY cherub I’ve ever seen and extremely fearful of new activities, and especially pain. Going to the dentist is usually an apocalyptic event.

Your seventh birthday is a prime example of that. This is the year that you decided that you were ready to pierce your ears. So after much arm twisting and a few out and out WWE events, we got your father’s permission to proceed. I picked both you and the male cherub up from school and headed straight to the mall and the new Build a Bear Workshop. Yep, we finally got one and almost 70 dollars and a camo bear and girlie bunny rabbit later, headed over to Libby Lu’s to do the deed. Only the Libby Lu’s in the mall has since closed, and I knew that I was testing you and you failed.

So after re-grouping, and being joined by your father, we headed to Clair’s and attempt number one to pierce your ears. Things went fine through the whole sterilization and ear marking period, but then you wouldn’t let the girl near your ears with the gun. It’s actually funny to look at your little face fall in the pictures. Fast forward through three more tries of sterilizing everything, and then crying when she comes near you with the gun, and then crying because you really want your ears pierced, but are too scared, add in a trip to the bathroom and watching another little girl get her’s done and then SUCCESS. Whew, that wasn’t really that bad was it? Wait, don’t answer that, the pictures say it all. Like I said, drama.

WHA WHO, we are doing this!

Marking the spot.

Second thoughts.

Still haven’t pierced.

SUCCESS, but wait, you have TWO ears.

You can do this!

Aw, done and suckers make EVERYTHING better.

You are still telling everyone you meet that you got your ears pierced. Which is fine because your father is still rocking in the corner because you got your ears pierced.

We wrapped up the seven extravaganza with ten of your closest friends at the roller rink and a Janell Cake!

We might have gone a little over board this year to due our friend Gustav stealing your birthday last year. This is compounded by the fact that I that I try to keep birthdays low key every other year, to save my sanity. (Odd years, because most major milestones occur on even years and it keeps the big hoop-las of you and your brother on opposite years. In theory any way.) So you were low key for five, and had six snatched right from you little hands. To add insult to injury, I got to do all the work and planning for six, it just never happened. Okay, so I’m not really sure who is more bitter about that.

So that about wraps up the seven extravaganza. Of course we will do this again next year because you will turn eight and will be baptized. Barring any hurricane activity in the Gulf, of course. That’s always a possibility because someone decided early September was a good time to make her entrance into the world. I won’t mention any names though.

I guess I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how incredibly bright you are. You continue to thrive in the gifted program and are now reading on a fifth grade level. You are rawking the second grade with much better conduct reports. You have only gotten four X’s this years. You could do that in under a week last year. I hope it keeps up.

You continue to enjoy being everyone and their brother’s best friend. You still enjoy TV more than anyone else in the family, okay, maybe I give you a run for your money. You read even more than last year and now enjoy chapter books. Your room continues to be a struggle for you, you may in fact be lost to a land slide in there one day. But most of all, you still give the best hugs on the planet. I defy the world to find a better huger. Go head and just try.

Emie, I love you and I’m so lucky to have the front row seat as you continue to grow into the charming, beautiful, smart person that you are. I’m going to close now before I get too mushy, but just know that I honestly believe that you will one day rule the world and I’m happy that I can say ‘hey, I know her’. Thank you for letting me being your mom, I can’t imagine doing anything better. I love you best.

Hugs and Kisses,
Mom

After running errands, including Target, Lowe’s, registering Jacob to take the GED, (again), doing dishes, laundry, feeding the cherubs breakfast and lunch, uploading files, sending work emails, calling the LPC board to check my status, (again), and installing trim in the mudroom, (all while possibly complaining about it), (loudly), (possibly), Emie said: “There’s a lot to do when your the mom.”
To which Jack responded, “That’s why I’m glad I’m gonna get to be the dad.”

I love the support I get around. Really I do.

Jax,

Happy happy birthday. Today was a really big day for you, and everyone turned out in droves to help celebrate. In fact, I have spent half a utility bill on cakes and cake like confections, because everyone and their brother wanted to celebrate this momentous occasion with you. That, and they wanted cake. In fact that seems to be the theme of eight, cake. It’s also entirely possible that I’ve gained another five pounds this weekend. There will retribution for that little fact, but there’s no need to dwell on that in your birthday letter. There will plenty of time for that, like at 12:01, you know, once your birthday is over.

You have some how managed to turn your birthday into a birth weekend. Why I’m surprised by that I don’t know, it happens every year with you and your sister. But somehow here I sit amazed.

So we started off Friday night with a small ‘friend’ party that consisted of 24 cupcakes and 5 eight to ten year olds. Suffice it to say that there was laser tag, fart jokes and well, farts. And lots them. All of them. Luckily for all involved, your father took the bullet on that one and was able to enjoy watching the hours of laser tag. Thus saving my brain from rolling out of my ear. Thank you daddy.

Saturday was spent relaxing. By that I mean, you had a friend stay over Friday night and stay allllll day Saturday, but hey, at least we were down to only four cherubs, three of them being native. I put you all in bed by 9 o’clock. I’ve never been so glad to see bed time in my life. Why you may ask? Because there was more to come on Sunday.

We kicked Sunday off with a rousing session of church, followed immediately with your baptism. It went brilliantly, and half the ward turned out. I was so surprised at the number that turned out. We were down to the wire with the cake. (There’s that damn cake again.) I almost lost it multiple times during the program. I had thought I might bear my testimony while you were getting dressed, but when the time came, I was so emotional, I just couldn’t. I almost lost it more times than I can count. If you tell anyone about that, your bear just might disappear. I’m not threatening here, just saying things happen.

But we have survived all that and live to tell the tale. Lived to tell you all the things I love about you. Like how you accept everyone and make them a part of your life. Your friends are diverse as your pokedeck. I admire that about you. You have remained positively passionate about video games. Pokemon still reigns supreme, but I’m hoping that will start to wain shortly. Please? Soon? You show occasional glimpses of maturity that blow my mind. They way you process information and seem to just ‘get’ whats going on is nothing short of impressive. School, of course, continues to come easily to you. I love that you just come in and do your home work these days. I rarely even have to check it at this point. It’s so nice being here with you.

Jackson, I love you. I’m so ridiculously happy you’re a part of my life and this family. You are kind, and sweet and smart. Your getting so big, I can’t believe you’ll be in third grade next year. Where did the time go? I swear I just birthed you last year. Please don’t ever lose your love of learning and sense of wonder in exploring the world. I so enjoy watching you figure everything out. I’m proud of you, and all that you have accomplished so far. Thank you for bringing that to our family and thanks for being my little boy, even if just for a little while longer.

love,
Mom

*I was going to post these tomorrow, so as not to double post, but I just can’t wait. We make this look good.*

Saturday, we headed out to the State Capitol for a family photo shoot. Our photographer took some fantastic pictures. Becky treated me to a sneak preview, and now you get to see them too. Lucky you!

Look at that crowd. You do not want to meet them in a dark alley.

Hard core cherubs. Do not make any sudden movements.

Oh look, the gangs all here.

Becky kept saying “She has so much personality!” Were looking into where that came from.

Dance baby, dance.

Awww, look what we made honey.

My monkey. I love that buck toothed boy. Even if he is the world’s youngest teenager. And yes, I am running his life.

How did he get bigger than me. I did not approve this people.

Really, I’m the only one who committed here. Work with me people.

My stair steps. Sorta.

A big thank you to Becky Thalgott Photography for her amazing pictures. You can see more a few more here. You know you want to!

BTW Becky has a guest post up over at Lexi’s blog (which is how I found her), where she gives some fantastic basic photography tips.