Four

I fail to understand how I was so difficult towards my mother as a child that I am to receive four little girls in return. I did not drink, I did not party, I did not steal. I was a good girl, a church youth group groupie, Sunday School teacher. Sure, I was moody and hormonal. What 13 year old isn't? I may have said a few not nice things to my mom (and dad), but really, I just wasn't bad enough to be getting four of me in return!

Each time I have been pregnant, I have been positive that I was carrying a boy. This time is no exception. But this time we did something a little different. At the 20 week ultrasound, we asked the technician to tell us the gender of the baby. We have never wanted to know before.

After having three girls, we wanted to be prepared if we were, in fact, adding a little boy to our family. After all, this is completely unplanned!

It is kind of fun knowing who this little person is flipping around inside of me. I love all my girls more than life, and loved them regardless of not knowing who they were as they were growing inside. But this time, I feel a little different. Like I am bonding in a different way with this little girl now. I know more about her already than the others. But I am still just as curious about all the parts of her that I don't yet know.

Having four girls growing up in our tiny yellow house is going to be a sight to see. But, God doesn't give you what you want. He gives you what you need.

Brave Girls, Brave Mom

Summer vacation is in full swing, and after a nice week of being lazy at home, I've been packing up a picnic lunch everyday and heading out to the lake with my three little blondes for swimming lessons. Not being a beach person, this has been just a little bit harder this year since I am also dealing with the full throes of morning sickness. Pregnant is not something I do well.

My oldest wanted nothing more than to swim out to the diving board dock. From the first second she saw it at the beach. One day the first week of lessons I indulged her, and swam with her out to the dock. It's a far swim for a 7 year old, but she did it. I had to wait in the water for her as she climbed the diving board, and jumped in. She loved it.

I hated it. Mama Bear was watching her cub grow. I watched her jump into the water, and waited for what seemed like an eternity for her little head to pop back up from under the water. And then she did it again.

I realized that while we were out there, I did very little breathing. It was time to head back to shore. But my little one was so proud of herself.

The next day she wanted to go again. But she had to wait for Daddy to go with us. The following week, out they swam. This time it seemed much quicker for her to reach the surface after her jump. Of course, I was watching from the shoreline, and did not swim out to the dock. That is what Daddy was for!

The next day, my middle one wanted to swim to the dock. Donning life jackets, they swam out to the dock together, as we waited on shore. Jumping from the dock, they took several turns before heading back in, proud as can be of their accomplishments.

When they reached the shore, we both breathed.

Just Another Day at the Park

Today after school, which was a shortened day anyway, due to parent-teacher conferences, my kids and I had a slew of little piddly errands to run: bank, church, Girl Scout cookie delivery, town-sponsored Easter contest submission forms, turning in said Girl Scout cookie monies). The last errand ended us at the new park in town. So being the good mom that I try to be and think I might achieve every now and then, we got out of the new car to play.

And the kids had a blast, despite the intense wind we are having today. The weather is beautiful and sunny, perfect for the park. There were friends there that we haven't seen in weeks...months! It was a nice end to our errands.

Until, of course, the littlest started getting tired. And the oldest got blisters on her hands from the monkeybars. And the middle one bonked her head on a mountain climbing wall. And then the oldest fell and hit her head. Sounds like it's time to leave.

Sounds... yeah... let's call them "sounds." The whiny, screechy cry of a kid hurt from the playground, from whatever wrong wronged them at that time. I corralled my children into a group and herded them to the car, sounds emitting from each of them.

Yeah... just another day at the park.