Dear Mrs. Future Ethan Packer,

I apologize ahead of time for my son's black and white personality, his unwillingness to try new things and his love of staying at home.  He was born that way, I promise.  Since he was a baby, he has had a hard time with change.  Let me give you some examples.

"Mom, do you know what my favorite day is?" Ethan asked after closing his last study book before the weekend.

"What?" I asked.

"My favorite day is when I don't have any math to do, and we don't go anywhere, and no one comes to see us."

As you know, this conversation describes Ethan so well. He loves to be at home.  He would rather be left alone to a chemistry set, toys or books than go out to dinner or take a walk.  One time we were reading a book together for school and I was asking him to compare and contrast a picture of a busy drive-in burger place, and a boy on a boat in the dark of the night.  "I like this picture," he said pointing to the boat, "because it's calm and quiet."    

He's my HOMEboy.  There was actually a time we were packing up to go to Chuck-E-Cheese and he whined about having to leave the house.  My girls were not like this.  I could barely leave the house without one of the girls begging to go with me.  It didn't matter if it was the bank or the store, they would want and welcome the change of scenery.  

Once, I bought Ethan a new shirt.  I don't remember the design but I remember I thought he would really like it.  After being in his drawer for a few weeks I asked him, "Why don't you wear the new shirt I got for you?"  

"I'm not used to it yet."

"But you like *whatever* design."

"Yeah, but I'm not used to it.  I can't wear it until I'm used to it."

So, I did the best I could.  I'm sure you love all the many wonderful things about him that I do: his love of science, his willingness to help out and of course, how much he loves his momma.  That's probably why you married him.  But as for the aforementioned things, I am sorry.  

Your Future Mother-In-Law,

Destiny 

P.S. I almost didn't use this picture because of the big, fat mess in the background.  But when you make me all of those beautiful grandbabies, you will relate.

6 Pack...er

Come on over to my house for a moment and share in the chaos of 6 Packers.  It's been a crazy week of adjusting to new baby but there is so much to be thankful for.

For starters, I have 4 healthy children.  I have been reminded this week that health is not something to be taken for granted.  I am also thankful for a loving husband who doesn't seem to show fear when he pulls up to the house with a wife standing near the front door starring out the window in "hand off" anticipation.

What has been perhaps the most unexpected and delightful surprise is the reaction of my older three children to their new sister.  Like turning the corner to see Ethan reading to Olivia.

 Everyday, they all can't wait to hold her.  Ally climbs into bed every morning and asks to see "my baby."  She smothers her with kisses and hugs.  I think Olivia may be slightly frightened by her.  She hasn't quite learned the art of gentleness.

Abby held Olivia for a 1/2 hour today on the couch.  She smiled at her, sang to her and kissed her.  Yesterday, Ethan burped her and she fell asleep on him.  

Olivia got her first bath today and the kids all gathered around to see her.  I weighed her on the scale afterward and the kids congratulated her on growing.

Yup, just me, hubby and four beautiful babies.  I'm loving my 6 Packer!

Out of the Mouth of Ally

The hymn books were neatly stacked on the table.  My little two year old walked in behind me carrying another hymnal and bouncing, as she always does, with each step.  She smiled at me and handed me the hymn book. "Werrr-shup, Mommy," she said sweetly.  She had gone into Andy's office and grabbed everything to sit down for family worship.
There's nothing that makes my heart skip a beat like my kids' desire to love and serve their God.  I never want to forget the way Ally looks on Sunday morning, her feet hanging straight off the pew because they are too small to bend and reach toward the floor.  The way she lays the hymn book on her lap between her knees and toes because it's too heavy to hold and how it's sometimes upside down.  And the beautiful noises she makes as she sings to Jesus.  She "sings" at the top of her lungs through every verse and doesn't stop until the music stops.  It's always the same words to every song, "Aghhhhhhhhhhhh!" but she tries to keep a certain melody.  Every week, as we pull up to church she exclaims, "My church!"
Yesterday, Ally surprised us and melted our hearts a little more.  We say the Lord's prayer almost everyday with the kids.  Ally has never said any part of it but yesterday, as we began to say it as a family, Ally said the first few lines, "Our Father, art in Heaven...name."  She continued saying the last word of every phrase and trying to repeat the parts she couldn't say.  Her little hands were clasped together and Andy and I just looked at one another and smiled.
Thank you, Jesus, for the blessing of children and the immeasurable joy of these precious moments!

Abby's Beautiful Mind

"Mom, since I'm older than Ally and Johnny (friend's kid), that means they have to listen to me, right?"  Abby asks.
"It doesn't quite work like that, Abby." I reply.
"But Mommmmm, that just makes sense."
And that about sums up the way my four-and-a-half year old daughter thinks.  If it makes sense to her, then it has to be so.  There is no use arguing with her.  She is very passionate about all of her beliefs, right or wrong.

Sometimes I think her desires gets the better of her logic.
"Mom, how many more days until Julia can spend the night?"
"Four."
"So she'll be here tomorrow?"
"No, she'll be here in four more days."
"Ohhh, so not tomorrow but the next day."
"No, four more days."
"So after tomorrow... Yeah! I'm so excited!"
She's also very compassionate.  She loves to help others and is often willing to give up her time and possessions to anyone in need.  She's even willing to give up her own personal freedoms.  If she sees brother or sister being reprimanded she does not hesitate to fight for them, especially if they are crying.  She will often get herself into trouble because she does not back down.

Abby can always scream louder and fight harder than anyone else around her.  Ethan often just gives up on winning an argument.  He actually says, "I give up."  It's kind of funny.
With her compassion brings a certain sensitivity.  She's the kind of girl who will cry at a feel good movie or a good story.  She loves hugs, kisses and snuggles and she hates, HATES, when we are upset with her.
I have to say, the way she argues can drive me crazy sometimes.  But she can also make me so proud.  You see that sensitivity, that passion and compassion and fight, when harnessed in the right direction, puts me in awe of her capability.  Nothing can stop her from fighting injustices.  She's my little four-year-old super hero and I am so very in love with her.

Haircut Commentary

We walked into the haircut place and it was crowded.  Apparently everybody had the same idea of a Sunday afternoon haircut.  I didn't mind the wait.  It was some quality time with my boy.  I listened to him talk and talk... and talk.  Finally it was his turn.  We walked back and he took a seat.
"Hold on a second," says the beautician I shall call Sally.  "I need to grab a booster seat."
"I don't need a booster."  Ethan replies.
"Ethan, she needs it to cut your hair."  I said.
Ethan then begins to talk non-stop for the next 10 minutes.  "I don't like the buzzers, they pinch me... This thing chokes me... A piece of hair is on my belly... Who's gonna get that hair?  I look like a turtle.  Do you think I look like a turtle?  There's a hair on my toe.  Can someone get that hair on my toe?"
Sally tries to change the subject, "How old are you?"
"Six."
"So you're in school."
"Ummm, well, Sunday School."
"Sunday School?"
"Yeah, every Sunday before church even starts!"
"Oh, that's good."
I interrupt, "He's homeschooled."  She ignores me.  She then gets out scissors to cut the top.
Ethan continues his commentary.  "Oh, those are razor sharp.  Aren't they razor sharp?"
"Yes," Sally says, "So hold still so I don't cut you... Your hair is really long.  When's the last time you got a hair cut?  Do you remember?"  (I'll try not to take that as a personal Mommy jab)
"Yes."  Ethan replies.  She begins to cut as his hair falls all around him.  "Aghhh, it's raining hair!"  He laughs.  She doesn't.  He continues, "Abby doesn't get her haircut.  Just her bangs..."  She brushes his hair back.  "I don't like my hair like that.  I like it to be brushed forward and for the sides to be back behind my ears... Mom, I don't like it like that."
"Be patient, Ethan.  You can do it how you want when you get home."  I assure him.
"We're almost done,"  Sally says.
"Haircut people always say that and it still takes a really long time."  He looks at Sally, "Can I tell you something?"  She doesn't respond.  He speaks louder, "Can I tell you something?!"  She ignores him again.  She changes the subject,  "Do you want gel?"
"No."
"Mousse?"
"No."
"Color?"
His eyes perk up, "Yes,"  she gives him choices and he picks red.
"It washes out."  She says.  She rubs it through his hair and it's spiky all over.
"I don't like it spiky.  Can you brush it forward?  Mom, I don't like it spiky.  Can someone brush it forward?"
"It looks cool spiky."  I say.
"I don't like it spiky.  I like it to go forward."  He responds.  She brushes it forward.  "Will this last awhile?  I want to show Eliah.  Daddy is gonna like this."

I'm tired, Sally's tired but Ethan's hair is cut.  I can't say I wasn't chuckling to myself the whole time.  :)

Hold My Hand

As we crossed the street to get to the van, Ethan grabbed my hand.  It was second nature for him.  He always holds my hand to cross the street.  We trained him to do that at an early age and he hasn't thought to stop doing it yet (and I will not be the one to let him know he doesn't have to anymore... because he does).

Suddenly I was flooded with emotion because at that moment I realized that one day he wouldn't do that anymore.  One day he will become independent and stop holding my hand to cross the street.  One day he will ride his bike in the neighborhood without me there.  One day he will move out of the house (well, down the street) and live on his own (okay Destiny, baby steps, don't overwhelm yourself).  I squeezed his hand tight and tried to take in the moment.  I looked at him and held his hand, and my heart was full.

I thought of my other two and how they still hold my hand as well.  Ally wraps her little hand around one of my fingers.  I love it.  I love her smallness.

When we got in the car, I started thinking of the time when Andy and I first met.  We met over the phone (he was my admissions counselor for college) and we developed a friendship before we even met.  We only hung out on two occasions before making the leap to dating.  When I finally moved to the college he attended, I felt like I knew him so well but we hadn't really hung out.  I felt awkward around him and yet we were dating.  I was afraid if he saw the goofy, dorky side of me he would think he made a mistake.  I remember being kinda quiet for the first few days.  He kept asking me what was wrong and I assured him it was nothing.  But soon I could no longer hold it in.  We were coming back from dinner and he was walking me back to the dorm.  He asked me again what was wrong and I finally let it all out.  I told him I felt like I wasn't being myself and a whole bunch of other babbling nonsense that I can't remember.  I was shaking because I was still so nervous around this dream guy I was so afraid of losing. He listened carefully to everything I had to say.  His eyes never wavered but remained locked into mine. At the end of my sonnet, he smiled and gently took both my hands.  I'll never forget that feeling.  With one gesture, my fears and trepidation were gone.  There was a sense of security.  He said something like, "Everything is gonna be okay," or other nonsense that I don't remember now.  But the power of touch, the gesture of taking my hands, that I will remember forever.

Another Round

I used to look at large families and think, "Is it still exciting?"  I mean, do they still get gitty and tell the whole world when their child says their first words or smiles for the first time?  Do those first kicks in the womb bring the same excitement?

I can't answer for everyone, but for me it's still really exciting.  With our fourth child on the way, I still get excited about the kicks and hiccups.  In some ways, I anticipate it even more because I have missed it for so long.  I can't wait to kiss that sweet newborn face and nurse a child once again.  Or see what their personality will be like as they grow.  Believe it or not, I haven't memorized the stages of pregnancy and I look forward to my weekly Baby Center e-mail so I can properly gauge my baby's size to the appropriate vegetable (As a side note, I think they should compare your baby to human toys like, "Your baby's the size of a G.I. Joe," or "Now your little girl could fit into Barbie clothes."  Perhaps I'm not imaginative enough for pea and squash analogies).

I still get excited when Ally learns new words and phrases.  She just started to answer my accusations with, "No I not!" and I think it's the cutest thing ever (well, for now).  And every child is so different.  Sometimes it amazes me just how different they are.

You know what else?  It gets easier.  Really.  I'm not just saying that as some evil ploy to get people to have lots of kids and join the misery club.  It truly does get easier.  I don't know what it is exactly.  Perhaps the experience, or relaxing just a bit more, or the interaction and play they have with each other instead of relying only on you.  That's not to say there is no sacrifice.  We think a little more carefully before taking our kids to a restaurant (cost and sanity are taken into consideration) and we have pretty much done away with happy meals and resorted to dollar menus.  Number four will slow that down even more.

These are just my thoughts.  I'm not an expert with three going on four kids and I may laugh years down the road as I read this with perhaps a 6th child in the womb.  But for now, I'm excited, I'm content, I'm gitty and I can't wait for the joy (and trials) another round will bring. :)