Baby R's Grand Entrance

Now that I am about 8 1/2 months removed from this, I think I can write about it with a little bit of perspective.  It was raw for a long time.

So, Baby R was due on August 30th.  I'd calculated that she was due on August 25th.  My awesome doctor agreed that she needed to come much before either of those dates just to make sure we snuck her in for the school cut-off date.  I liked that doctor.  DH was out of town at Scout Camp (scheduled before he was called to be the Scoutmaster) from Aug 12th-17th.  I started working from home that week in order to minimize my movements in the days that DH was pretty much unreachable and unable to get back home with anything less than 5 hours' notice.

That week went fine surprisingly.  I had a scare one night but I was able to lay down on my side, drink a lot of water, and will the contractions to stop.  Shocking, I know.  I did have back up plans in place and people I would call just in case too.  Fortunately I didn't need them.

We celebrated our anniversary the night of the 17th (the 18th was Sunday) by going out to dinner at the fancy El Torreador and eating DQ Blizzards afterward (fancy, I know).  For the baby of course.  On Sunday we went to M&M's house for dinner and talked about how the baby could really come anytime now!  DH had cleared his work schedule and all could be right in the world.

I went to the dr. bright and early Monday morning (the 19th for those keeping score at home).  We won't touch on the weight that was happening on the scale (let's just say I hope to never see those numbers again) and focus on the more important facts. I was dilated to a 3 and 50% effaced (I've walked around at a 3 for weeks, though, so nothing too crazy) so she offered to strip my membranes.  I happily agreed and she said she'd either see me in about 24 hours to deliver a baby or the following week for my appointment.

I started feeling contractions almost as soon as I left the dr's office.  But, they were so irregular.  I even recall going to Fred Meyer for a few groceries and having contractions as I walked the aisles.  I was sure it was because she had just checked me and that they'd stop.  And, they kind of did in the afternoon.  I worked a little bit and went on a walk around the neighborhood.  Tyler and I usually walk the curbs when I'm in labor, but I never really got to that point during the day.  We had Family Night that night and got everyone in bed by about 8:30 or 9.  I remember looking at the clock at 9:00 and telling DH I was going to lie down because I wasn't feeling so hot and I wanted to time my contractions.

They were 9 minutes apart.  Hmm.  That's how they were when I went into labor with Sadie.  9 minutes at the start and I didn't have her for another 20 hours or so.  I didn't think much of it the night of the 19th when I told Tyler's parents (who called to check on me) that they were 9 minutes apart but were super sporadic too (the next one was 20 minutes later).  On and off, on and off.  I downloaded a stopwatch app on my phone.  Super helpful that night.  Have only used it since when I do planks.  Important fact to know.

The time passed with the contractions all over the map.  9 minutes.  7 minutes.  16 minutes.  20 minutes.  Back to 8 minutes.  It was crazy and I never really decided that I was "in labor."  I kept thinking they'd stop altogether, I'd go to sleep and have a good night's rest.  DH decided to go to bed around midnight.  I told him I wouldn't be too far behind, but that he should go sleep in the other room just in case I didn't sleep much (somebody should get some sleep in our house).  I turned off the light at 12:30 AM.  I turned the light back on at 12:50 AM.  2 contractions later, I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.  And, they were kind of painful!

Meanwhile, I was texting with Darcy who had texted me earlier the morning of the 19th that she was heading in to the hospital to have her baby!  I hadn't heard from her since the morning so I decided to check on her since I was up.  Her baby was a bit stuck and she was exhausted.  We kept texting, though.  I told her I was having contractions, but, again, never really declared I was in labor.  I was in denial for some strange reason.  I think it's because I don't like false alarms and being sent away from the hospital.

By 2:00 AM I could no longer lie/sit through my contractions (6 minutes apart pretty consistently at that point) so I decided to get up and do something.  "Maybe I should pack a bag, just in case," I thought to myself.  **Side note: I have NO idea why I even bother packing a toiletry bag with make up, a blow dryer, and other beautification products in it.  I've never once blown dry my hair after having a baby and I only put make up on to leave the hospital (but it's a lot like putting lipstick on a pig - completely futile at that point because it's just plain ugly).  Such a waste.**

I changed out of my pajamas and put some "normal" clothes on.  I think I even took a shower.  I know I put make up on - just in case.  And, I added my handy dandy pearls to my earlobes and called it good.  No woman should have to give birth without earrings.  I even took some selfies of my belly and my "pre-delivery" largesse.  It wasn't pretty.  All this while my contractions got to 2 minutes apart.  Finally at 3 AM I decided to call the hospital.  I was put on the line with Teresa, the triage nurse.

"Hi, this is Whitney Seamons, and I'm calling to let you know that I'm in labor with my 4th baby, my contractions are 2 minutes apart and I'm thinking I should come in."

"Ok.  How long are your contractions lasting?"
"Um, about 45 seconds or so"
"Ok.  And, what were you at at your last dr. appt?"
"I was dilated to a 3.  I went this morning and Dr. Chien stripped my membranes."
"And, are you lying down?"
"No, I could no longer do that as of an hour ago.  I have to walk around for them."
"Have you had a contraction since we've been on the phone?"
"Yes, one. And, it hurt."
"Well, you were still able to talk through it."
"Um, I guess so.  I'm trying my best to keep functioning but I'm in pain."
"Hmm.  Well, you're more than welcome to come in.  It's totally up to you.  BUUUUUTTT, we usually like your contractions to be lasting at least a minute, and they're probably so close together because you've been up walking around.  So, you can come in and.we'll probably have you walk around the hospital and try to get you farther along.  Which you're MORE than welcome to do.  Or, you could just go back to your room, lie back down, drink a lot of water and see if they get farther apart again. I mean, it's totally up to you."

Here's what I was thinking: "Well, it IS 3:00 in the morning and I can let DH keep sleeping and it's probably not going to happen for a while anyway, and I DEFINITELY do NOT want to go walk around the hospital at this hour when I can just lie in my bed.  I guess I'll do that."

"Ok.  I'll call you back if anything changes.  Thanks."

I go lie down on my bed and my next contraction comes HARD and lasts for 1 minute but it's been 6 minutes.  I start reading emails and articles on my phone (when I'm not running the stop watch app to time my contractions) to distract me, but there's no distracting during the contractions.  Not even 20 minutes later, I am sitting on the edge of my bed because I can no longer lie down through the contractions.  So, I lie down for 5 minutes, sit up and bounce and have a contraction.  At this point I KNOW I'm in labor but I don't want to wake up DH JUST YET.

At 3:30 or 3:40 I remember sitting on the edge of my bed bouncing and breathing through a contraction and starting to feel my legs shaking and feeling very nauseous and wanting to throw up.  I thought I'd just drunk too much water on an empty stomach.  Maybe I should take another sip.  That didn't help either so I laid back down.  I later realized that's what people call transition.  I should really have been at a hospital for that.  That's neither here nor there now, however.  Around 4 AM I started moaning pretty loud, I guess, because DH came walking in and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital.

"I don't know!!  I just called an hour ago and the nurse told me it was up to me, but I should probably just lie back down because I'd have to walk the halls of the hospital and I really don't want to do that, so maybe I should wait a few more minutes."

"But, you seem to be in a lot of pain."

"I am.  They really hurt and I can't even talk or walk through them.  I have to pause, have the contraction, and then go back to walking."

"Well, maybe we should go."

I have 1 more really hard, painful contraction and I subsequently agree.

It's now 4:20 AM.  DH says he's going to pop downstairs, take the camera off the charger and let Fely know that we're heading to the hospital.  I call my friend, Teresa, the triage nurse, and tell her I'm now coming and she can't tell me otherwise.

DH is messing around with something on the camera and I tell him that we need to go so I'll just drive myself to the hospital (Crazy Town had officially set in).  He told me that would not be the case and he's coming but he needed to tell Fely.  I told him to call her from the car and I would be in the car.  We left and he started to speedily back down the driveway while I was trying to adjust the seat.  It was too far forward.  As he flew down the driveway, the seat flew all the way back and I was completely flat on my back and screaming that it hurt too much and went too far back.  Owwww!!!!  It's funny now, but it wasn't funny then.

He drove the hospital like a possessed NYC taxi driver.  I couldn't believe he even stopped at the 1 red light we hit.  I wasn't paying very good attention because I told him to go straight where he should have turned.  I wasn't in a great frame of mind at this point.  I was in serious pain.

We pulled up to the circle outside the maternity ward at 4:55.  He called someone to let them know we were there (the doors were locked), because apparently they forgot I had called 15 minutes before to let them know we were coming.  Someone came and let us in and I had to stop on the way back to the Maternity Unit to have a contraction.  I walked into the unit and asked for my epidural.  We got to the registration desk (don't worry, Teresa was still on duty and met us there), and they were still printing some stuff out for my bracelet and I had to turn away and have another contraction and they told me that needed to check me before they could order an epidural.

"Please, can you just order it now?  I know I'll be far enough along to have it and the anesthesiologist should be there once you've checked me if you order it now."

After what seemed like forever they handed me my arm bracelet and, wouldn't you know, it had the wrong doctor's name on it.  Seriously?  I said, "No, that's not my doctor!"  As if it mattered at that point!  But, they still needed to re-do it and 2 minutes later I had a new, correct armband.  Teresa told me to follow her down the hall to a room.  There they would check me.  I stopped along the way to have a contraction and she proceeded to tell me to "take your time and just breathe" in the most annoyingly calm, soothing voice I'd ever heard.

Got into the room and she handed me a gown to change into, some socks to put on, and a urine sample cup.  Seriously?  A sample?  Well, yes, they need a sample.  I'd never had to do that before.

I said, "Teresa, if I sit down on that toilet, there's a high probability that I will not get off of it.  Too much pain!"

"Well, please just go ahead and try!"

I had just gone to the bathroom at home, so I'm not sure there was anything there but I sat and truly worried that baby would come out in the toilet.  Somehow I managed to get up.  I just needed to get on the hospital bed so they could check me and I could get my epidural.

I flopped myself on the bed in a not-very-upright position assuming I wouldn't be there for long.  Teresa finally checked me.

She looked at Tyler (who was standing on my right at this point) and said, "Well, she's at a 9 and her sac is bulging."  She looked at the other nurse and said, "Go get the Dr"  "She's in the OR," said the other nurse.  "Get her out of the OR."  Ummmmm....my epidural???

"I don't think we're going to have time for that."

I.  DIED.  Right.  There.  How in the world did it get to this?  I CALLED YOU 2 HOURS AGO!!!  This could have all been very easily avoided.

But, no.  Now I was in a bit of panic mode and in so much pain.  I could not be calmed as they prepped the room almost instantaneously for a birth.  It happened so fast yet it seemed so so slow and long at the time.

They propped me up on the bed a little bit, got my legs in the stirrups, I had a few more contractions, at one point one of the nurses tried to get the fetal monitor under my back to no avail (it hurt too much to try to lift my back up).  The ceiling opened and the light came on and down (in hindsight it was probably completely apropos to something straight out of the Hunger Games).

Dr. Brumfiel came in the room, threw her gown and gloves on.  I was screaming at this point.  Teresa told me to open my eyes and look at her.  Seriously?  This woman.  I believe I told DH all sorts of things he didn't want to hear, he claims I swore (which I really didn't - all I said was Holy He** - that's NOT that bad).  She poked the bulging sac and told me to push with the next contraction.  Which I did.  And, I promptly told them to "GET HER OUT!!!"  Sweet mother of ring of fire.  That hurt.  They said she was so close and I was doing so well.  And, she had hair.  Thank you.  All details I did not need at that moment.

"Go ahead and push one more time with your next contraction, Whitney, " said the good doctor.

"It HURTS SO BAD!!"

"Never mind.  Just push now."

And, she was out.  They put her on my chest, she started to cry a soft little cry and all I could sob was, "You Stinker!"

It was 5:05 AM.  15 minutes from door to delivery.  Not a record I'm particularly proud of, but we made it.

And she was so cute.  And smelled so so good.  And had the smallest little head - it sure didn't feel that way, but thank the heavens.

And she was tiny.  6 lbs 15 oz.  20 3/4 inches long.  And then DH went to go move the car out of the circle and grab the real camera he'd left in the car in the mad dash to get inside.

I joined a club I had thought I might want to join, but am not really so sure why I wanted to after all.  Natural birth is brutal.  :)  We sure love our Baby R, though.  She's growing up way too fast.  More on her later.

Back in the Saddle

I've let too much time pass (can't believe it's been almost a year) where I think I should write something down, or record something and I always think I'll do it later.  Later is now and I need this for myself more than anyone else.  I'm not going to try to play catch-up.  That's too overwhelming.  Well, except for the story of Baby R's birth.  Here's to moving forward.  Cheers!

Gratitude for Dinner

Last night Mr. A had a baseball game that went until 6:30 or 6:45, DH had Scouts that he ran right off to, and so the kids and I went home and I decided we were having cereal for dinner.

"Cereal for DINNER?!"  "We can't do that, Mom!"  Oh, yes, we can.  Or, oatmeal (as Baby S and Miss M decided to have - or, as Miss S likes to call it - "ewt-meaw" - very cute).

And, then, an hour or so later, here was Mr. A's bedtime prayer:

"I'm thankful that we could have cereal for dinner."

See, I'm not such a bad mom after all.

5 Alive - Happy Birthday, Miss M!

As I look at pictures, it seems my kids are always happy. :)  Generally speaking, they are.  Miss M was a very happy baby.  Looking back at pictures of her tonight on the eve of her birthday makes me appreciate and miss that little one all at the same time. 

Happiest 4 month old around!

Cheeky 1 yr old

Picture Perfect 2 yr old (I still don't know how we got her to sit still for this - she was always moving)

Sassy 3 yr old - love those curls!

Classy 4 yr old

Ready to be 5 yr old (right before she got tubes in her ears a few weeks ago)

More to come tomorrow...I need to get some sleep before the festivities begin - she's got all 3 meals planned out and can hardly wait.  Love her energy and spunk.  She's an awesome big sis to Baby S and almost as annoying as a perfect little sis can be to her big brother. :)

 

Blessed

1.   All kids like to ask questions that you never know are coming.  Miss M popped a good one yesterday morning as DH was hopping in the shower -
- "Dad, why did you choose to have a pe*is?"
- DH - "Why did I CHOOSE to?  Oh, I didn't choose to...Heavenly Father BLESSED me with one."

It had the 2 of us in stitches as she seemed appeased with the answer and walked off to get ready for the day.

Give my DH props for quick thinking on his feet.  I was impressed.

2. Miss M also has had to spend some time at the ER and surgery center as of late.  After 6 ear infections this year, she was blessed with tubes in her ears and her adenoids taken out.  Just before her tubes went in, she had a scary infection in the mastoid bone in her ear that needed some ER antibiotics.  Her sister, Baby S, loved to tell everyone that Miss M had to go to the "hos-table."  I love 2 1/2 yr olds.  Mine speaks really well, most of the time, so it's fun to hear her slip up at times even though her almost 5 yr old sister still calls it "pasghetti."  In addition, Miss M still struggles w/her left foot and her right foot shoes, while Baby S almost never gets them wrong.

Little girls are hilarious!  

And the First Shall Be Last and the Last Shall Be First

I'm terribly off any semblance of a blogging routine at this point.  So, I'll sprinkle in bits and pieces, but I'll start with where we are now. 

1 - We lovingly call her Penelope or Finley (as in THE END)

  

She'll be here the end of August sometime.  Just in time to hang with her brother and sisters and then send them all off to school. :)

2 - Let me tell you how Mr. A took the news:

3- We have tried to psych him up now for all of the awesome activities he'll get to do with his dear dad - his best buddy too.  DH even said to me the Friday before we found out what we were having: "If Mr. A is the only son I have, I'll be ok with that.  He's everything I could have wanted in a son and more."  Amen to that.  We won the son lottery and love our Mr. A dearly.  Tonight he played his baseball game with his dad as his 3rd base coach.  Love these 2 boys of mine. 

The pep talk

Eyes on the Prize

And, so, the last son was the first, and the first son ended up being the last one.  We love him for it. 

Firsts

Today was Mr. A's first day of first grade at a new school.  His first time spending ALL day at school.  First time waiting at the bus stop with other kids.  First time eating lunch at school and having recess 3 times!  First time to try catching the right bus at the end of school.  I'm exhausted just thinking about it for him.  But, you know what?  He bounded down off that bus at 3:58 with a big grin on his little face and a huge hug for his mama.  He handled it all JUST FINE!  Why was I such a wreck?  I thought about him all. day. long.  Couldn't stop.  Would someone sit by him on the bus?  Who would he sit next to at lunch?  Would he remember where his classroom was?  Would he remember where the bathroom was?  Would he make it there in time?  Would he eat enough of his lunch to sustain him for the WHOLE day?  I forgot to remind him what "color" code his bus was.  How would he find the right one to ride home?  Would he have anyone to play with at recess?  Would he sit next to someone nice in class (and not too chatty)?  Would he be punished for not having all of his school supplies the first day (come on...I forgot the 2 red pencils!!!)?  Would his teacher remember his name?

I was a wreck.  He was just fine.  I fed him 4 chocolate chip cookies when he got home and made him tell me all about his day.  Did he have to write about his summer?  Did he have to read for his teacher?  Did he make any new friends?  Did he remember where the classroom was?  Did anyone yell at him for not having his school supplies?  Did he like his lunch?  Did he find the note his mom left him (yes, and he brought it home with him and didn't want me to throw it away.  How cute is that?)?  Did he eat all of his lunch?  Did he have enough time to eat lunch?  Who did he play with at recess?  Did he find the bathroom?  ETC, ETC, ETC.  I'd be annoyed if I were him too.  But, seriously, the chocolate chip cookies did the trick.  He just kept talking and talking and talking.  AND, he was STARVING! :)

So, here's my not so little 1st grader.  All grown up.  Missing some teeth and looking so stinking handsome.  Bring on 1st grade, I say.  But, don't let my little boy grow up anymore.  He's done for now and so am I.

#1!

I've got no teeth!  :)

Happiest guy around

Best buddies

The bus stop walking posse

It's Only Hair, Right?

At least that's what I'm trying to tell myself anyway.  After bawling my eyes out for the better part of an hour, I've decided that Miss M was merely trying to stick it to her baby sister for truly having better hair than her.  Here's a shot taken literally the DAY before the Massacre occurred...

Big shoes to fill, girls. :)

The next afternoon after they'd both woken up from their naps, Miss M asked if she could cut paper and eat popsicles outside.  So, Fely kindly granted her wishes and took all of her things outside.  We've had the conversation numerous times about what to cut, etc.  But, when in the moment, you know?  You just have to be like Aunt Megan, I guess.  Here's what happened in mere minutes...

Seriously.  Doesn't that make you want to cry??

And the next day, we marched everyone down to the hair dresser and ordered transformations for all.  Some much more drastic than others.

The "stylist" - She chopped the front of her own hair, so she needed a big cut too

Somebody got some sass with her new 'do

Cheeese

Trying to get all 3 smiling and looking...next to impossible

Just a Run in the Park

I've had a great 4 days in NYC with some of my dear friends from Philadelphia.  We engaged in all sorts of must-do activities as well as spent tons of time eating, laughing, and catching up.  I miss them already.  I was able to swing a few meetings on the end of my trip, so had a little bit of time after my meetings this evening to go for what I thought would be a quick jog in Central Park. 

Something about seeing the forest through the trees?

I got a little carried away, however, and found myself starting to get tired before I'd even turned around to run back!  I realized I was at 97th St. and needed to find the path back across the park to run back on the West Side.  Fortunately I had my phone with me so I stopped to see where my turn was.  I also stopped to take in the view.  I love running through Central Park - even when it's stiflingly humid, overcast, and sprinkling ever so slightly. 

Wish I knew someone standing on the bridge - would have been a great shot!

Spellcheck

Mr. A had a great year in Kindergarten.  He flourished in reading, excelled in Math, and rocked it out at writing.  All of the words he learned to write were done the "non-dictionary" way.  Since school ended, though, he has become so concerned with the "dictionary spelling" of every word.

In addition, he has started spelling out everything he says.  I'll give a few examples:

• To end his prayers, "In the name of Jesus Christ, A-M-E-N"
• "Hey, M-O-M, can I have..."
• "D-A-D, I'm trying to talk to you"
• In reply to my question of did he brush his teeth, "Y-E-S"
• "Are we going to C-O-S-T-C-O?"
• "Do I need to wear my C-L-O-T-H-E-S?"

It cracks us up.  I admit to being a pretty particular speller in my own right, so maybe I'm wearing off on him at an early age?  Poor guy!

B-E-A-C-H

P-E-A-C-E O-U-T

Somehow...

So big! 

Lovin' on her momma

...this little lady turned the ripe, old age of 2.  The baby of our family yet she makes herself known in every circle she enters.  We seriously cannot resist, though, her succulent cheeks and her perfectly formed lips.  We just want to eat her up!  She has awesome blonde hair with all sorts of body and gentle curls at the bottom.  She jumps and hops and pops her way through our lives.  She is spunky and sassy and saucy and so stinking cute!  She narrates for all of us all day long.  If I am brushing my hair, "Mommy brush hair?!"  If Tyler is walking out the door, "Daddy fy airpanes?!" Or, if she wanders in on an unsuspecting toilet-goer, "Andrew go poopy?!" 

She loves to play "So Much" - you know the game, "How much does Mommy love you?"  But she only does one "this much" with her hands close together and then the next step is "Sooooooo Much!" and a big snuggle. 

My favorite are some of her cute sayings - when I put powder on her after her bath, it's always a big breath in followed by, "Mell good!"  She forgets the s, of course.  She always asks for "milkies" and she has to have a binky in her hand and her 2 blankies by her side before we read stories.  Her favorites right now: "Goodnight, Moon" (because mousie, mousie, mousie is super important) and "Mommy Hugs."  She loves to have "Twinkle Star" as she calls it and "Sunbeam" sung to her before bed.

She only gets her binky in her bed so in the morning she'll usually go back in her bed for a 1/2 hour or so and read books in her bed just to have her binkies. 

Big thumbs up for the 4th

Accessorizing is important when you're at the beach - matching floaties and bows

See the curls?

Loves to play with her sissy - whom she has finally stopped calling "Sissy" all the time and calls her "Mow-gan" more often than not

Her fishy face - see what I mean about the lips??!

She wears Miss M's dress up heels around the house (with Miss M) and loves to be just like her sister.  Mr. A makes her laugh uncontrollably and if T goes in the shower, she is there. 

She is so busy and she moves so fast.  The minute one mess is made she is on to the next without any of us realizing that the first one has been made. 

She's trying to become so independent.  She's even started taking her plate to the sink after a meal (just like her siblings do).

Sure love this little fireball.  Happy Birthday, Sadie-boo, Lou, Sadie Boo-Loo, Lady Sadie, Sadie Lady, Sadie Kate Cakes, Sadie Kate, Crazy Lady! 

Birthday - Shmirthday

DH, or T as I'd like to now refer to him, thinks that birthdays are for the birds.  He doesn't like them, so why should anyone like his?  Unfortunately he married the wrong woman then!  I just can't let them slip right on by without anyone noticing.

This year he just wanted his family around him and to eat his favorite foods.  I wish I had taken more pictures, but I was a little busy. :)

WT Cake take 13 (I make them every year - this year, though, he changed up his ice cream preference and went for Tillamook Wild Mountain Blackberry!  Always keeps me on my toes, that guy!

Baby S loves to help "bow cannles"

2 cakes and I went easy on the candles

 Happy Birthday, TWS!  Always glad you were born!

1.2.3.4. - I Declare a Time War

"I'm 4 Now!"

Cupcakes to school in her new outfit - pink cake with a layer of purple sprinkles and then chocolate frosting and then another layer of purple sprinkles

Breakfast request - Dad's Coffee Cake - done to perfection

Everyone got to ride in her new Jeep - It even has a radio that she and her sister promptly fought over.  Fast forward 12 years.

 

I got the candle, put it in my cupcake, and asked my dad to light it for me - I.N.D.E.P.E.N.D.E.N.T.

So loved being the center of attention

The last hat of the day

I've made a new rule in our house.  Nobody is allowed to be older than 7 unless you have well surpassed it already.  There are days I seriously feel like I went to sleep yesterday when Miss M was 2 and I woke up this morning and she was 4.  Stop the presses.  However, there are days I am happy that she climbs into bed and is still alive.  She is that kinda gal.  Sassy and naughty.  Kind and generous.  "I don't like you, Mom."  "I love you, Mom."  All in the same 30 second window. 

She changes clothes at least 7 times a day.  Pajamas are to be slept in, played in, eaten in, crafted in.  Didn't you know?  The outfits have to be just right.  If pants are on the docket they have to touch the floor.  Every skirt will find a pair of tights that must live on her body.  If headbands could stay on morning, noon, and night, they would finalize the outfit.  There are days I fight it.  But, there are more days where I choose not to.  It's not like Valley Forge is at stake.  It's just my sanity.

I call her my sister's daughter.  For those who know Alexis or, even better, knew her growing up, you know that everything had to be JUST RIGHT.  No sock could have the slightest wrinkle inside the shoe.  No shoe could have too much space.  And the mirror.  Everything was a mirror.  She would sit on the side of the table that allowed her to check herself out in the opposite large bay window.  Meet Miss M.  Today while she skipped from lunch at Panera (with just me & DH) right on down to Yogurtland (free on your birthday!), she sang a tune, "It's my birthday!  I'm 4!  It's my birthday!  I'm 4!" and she checked out her reflection in the Lane Bryant display windows.  I believe Alexis will be starting a cousins camp at her house shortly.  She can take my Miss M and straighten her socks and adjust her outfits and fix her shoes and I will take her Nate and make everything completely fair.  I get that. :)

Miss M planned out every minute of her day.  I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.  She's a gal who knows what she wants.  I like that.  "Mom, does Panera have soup?  Ok.  We can go."  She has a birthday party on Saturday with some friends.  A Princess Dance Party.  It's gonna be rockin'. 

Miss M, I am thrilled to be your mother.  You entered this world 4 short years ago so calmly, serenely, and peacefully.  You hardly cried.  You just wanted to look around and take it all in.  You are a protector of your little sister, a confidant of your big brother, and a hard worker.  I asked you today what you were going to do now that you are 4.  "More jobs, Mom.  I can do more jobs now."  Stand down, Mr. Clean!

And, you LOVE to eat.  Soup is your big thing.  Chicken Noodle, Cream of Mushroom, even Louisiana Rice & Bean.  And, spicy.  You'll choose to eat Fiesta Chicken over Chicken Nuggets any day of the week.  I did eat a lot of Mexican food while you were in my belly.  I love that we share that great love of yummy food.  Your favorite treat is Otter Pops and ice cream.  You don't like to eat bread (a texture thing, maybe?), you would drink apple juice all day if I let you, you get your own sippy cups of water now, and you have animation in your voice that would make Hannah Montana move over (you have no idea who she is, by the way, and I'm thrilled about that). 

You are learning your letters (ABCDEFGHIJKRQMNP) :)  and numbers and to write your name. You would draw for hours and make pictures for all of your friends.  You got to go to a bday party with Mr. A a few weeks ago and you were very last person still decorating a picture frame of Wonder Woman.  All of the other 6 year olds were done and on to the next thing. 

And, one more thing.  Your preschool teacher asked us the other day where you get your stubborn streak from.  I told her it must be your father.  :)  Love you THIIIISSS MUCH, Miss M.  Thanks for spicing things up around here.  Happy Birthday!

Love, Mom