Conceivable Memories

We are going way back for this post.  About nine years to be exact.  As part of my goal for this blog of recording events for my boys from their childhood, I thought that I might as well start from the beginning.  The moment we found out we were having a baby, three times, three different stories.

Greyson's story begins with us waiting purposely for nine years before deciding we were ready to be parents.  We didn't have to wait long.  He made himself known the second month of "trying".  I remember taking a test and leaving it in the bathroom for the full three minutes.  Rod and I decided to look at it at the very same moment so it would be news to both of us at the same time.  After our three minutes of eternity, we walked into the bathroom together with our eyes averted from the counter, looked at each other, counted to three, then looked at the little plastic stick.  My eyes immediately filled with tears when the two lines appeared and started happy dancing.  Rod looked a bit confused, although he was happy and laughing and asking, "what do the two lines mean again?"  I shouted, "We're having a baby!!" We just hugged and cried and laughed.  It felt like an out of body experience.   That was THE defining moment of my life.  I would never be the same again.  I was going to be a Mommy and I was truly elated.  We went out to lunch to celebrate.  I remember sitting in the Z Tejas Grill in Highlands Ranch, CO and looking around at all the people going about their everyday lives not knowing my precious secret.  There was a tiny, little bitty life inside me and only Rod and I knew.  What an incredible feeling to know that we were bringing life into the world.  After lunch we ran over to Babies R Us and  each picked out a little outfit in green and white, went home and hung them in the closet of the nursery to be and started planning and dreaming.

Zane's story began when we knew we should get started on another baby since Greyson was two. Again, I got pregnant in the second month of "trying".   I just knew I was born to be a Mommy and after the long wait to start a family, I didn't want to wait any longer to add another one.  Same brand of test, same bathroom,  and two lines again.  This time Rod knew what it meant.  In that moment I believe he saw dollar signs, college funds, etc...  We had sweet little Greyson in on the results this time.  He went into the bathroom and brought the stick to us.  I just started happy crying and hugging Rod and Greyson.  Greyson just watched all the commotion, not sure what it was about.  We video taped him  showing the stick to the camera and saying that we were having a baby.  I was absolutely thrilled to be pregnant again.  I just couldn't wait to meet the precious little life that was on his way.

Silas was an unexpected and wonderful surprise.  We knew we wanted three children and we were going to do the "trying" thing when Zane reached two years.  I went to my doctor for a checkup when Zane was nine months old.  I scheduled it during Rod's lunch so that he could sit in the car with Greyson and Zane while I ran in for the appointment.  The doctor asked if I was trying to get pregnant again since the nurse listed "no birth control" on the chart.  I told her, "No.  Why?  Am I pregnant?"  She said she didn't know, but she would run a test.  I just told her there was no birth control listed because I was there to get some more.  She left the room for a few minutes and came back carrying a baggie with a stick in it.  Oh, I know those sticks!  They usually have two lines.  She held it up and said, "Congratulations!  You're pregnant."  I felt my head spinning and for a moment I thought I would pass out and fall right off that paper covered table.  "What?  Zane is only nine months old!"  I sort of floated out to the receptionist.  She asked me a question about another appointment and I remember telling her, "I don't even know my own name right now."  I found Rod in the car reading the newspaper.  He asked, "How did it go?"  without looking up from what he was reading.  I said, "Good.  A little different than I expected."  There was a long pause.  He was still looking at the paper, so I finally said, "Uh... we're having another baby."  The newspaper lowered slowly, he swung his head around to look at me and was speechless.  I held up the little baggie with the stick with two lines, and repeated, "We're having another baby!"  We both broke into laughter and really didn't know what to say.  We were in disbelief, yet so happy that again, we would know the absolute joy of adding a little baby to our sweet family.  I think it was in that moment that Rod thought, "Note to self, have the snip snip immediately after this one is born."

Clean-up Time

Clean-up time is the most dreaded part of my day.  I get the same reaction every single day.  It never changes.  Right around 4:30 every afternoon I call out the horrifying words that strike fear in all of us. "It's time to clean up!  Daddy will be home soon!"  And a slew of fits, gasps, and tantrums follow.   I have the oldest complaining that he's not done playing yet.  The youngest is almost in tears yelling, "But it's too hard!"  And in the middle of these two boys writhing around in protest, the Heavens open and a ray of light shines down upon the head of my middle child.   He is standing in the midst of chaos looking at me with a smile on face.  He walks toward me, wraps his sweet little arms around me, looks into my eyes and says, "Okay Mama.  I'll clean up for you."  You know, I was a middle child as well.  Middle children are near perfect.  We want our Mama's to be happy when there is strife.  We want our siblings to see that we are the favorite.  After my hug from my near perfect child, I will usually say in a very loud voice, "Thank you Zane!  You are such a good boy to obey Mommy with such a happy heart. I appreciate you and love you."  That usually starts the clean-up process among the other two.  I get "Look Mommy, I'm cweaning" from my youngest, and silent groans from the oldest as things are being thrown into the toy drawers.   Yesterday as I relished in the sounds of toys being cleaned and boys obeying, I hear Zane say, "I'll put your shoes away for you Mommy." (Oh, that sweet boy!)  The next thing I know my shoe is sailing through the air, being thrown as hard as a five year old can throw, slamming into the front door.  I hear my voice calling out in slow motion.... "Noooooo!  Those are from Italy!!!"  "Oops!  Sorry Mom. "  The Heavens close, and the ray of light diminishes.

Why am I Blogging?

I am the lone girl in a house that is overrun with testosterone.  I have a husband who is a boy, we have three little boys ages 8, 5, and 4, our bulldog is a boy as well as our cat.  The only pink in this lego and hot wheels infested house are two bath towels that I purchased on the Target clearance rack in my desperate effort to girl up this place.  It didn't work, but each time I wrap myself in those pink towels, I have a nice moment of girl-ness.  Don't get me wrong.  I love these boys more than anything, and I would have it no other way.  I won't experience girl drama in the teen years, and I'll save a fortune on feminine products and weddings.   In fact, if I was to have another baby (which I would absolutely LOVE, unfortunately my husband has been snipped, tied, and burnt but I'm still hopeful that one might hop the fence one day), I would want a fourth boy.  I love them.  Rowdy, messy, full of spunk and cuteness and they always stick up for their Mama.

I have been told countless times "You need to blog!"  What in the world is a blog?  I still have a cell phone that only calls people.  I'm not a real technical sort of person.  However, I have caved and think I have figured out how to make a blog.  We'll see if that's true.  Anyway, I don't expect to have any followers, and that's okay.  I can handle it if I'm not real popular in the blog arena, seeing how there are probably millions of you out there.  My one goal in this project is to have a written record of all the cute, sweet, and ornery  things my boys have done and will do (that I can remember).  Just being pregnant and giving birth to them has depleted most of my brain cells, listening to them fight, wrestle, scream, and whine have depleted the rest.  I'm afraid that by the time they are grown, if I have survived it, I will be without my hearing and memory.   I want them each to have a record these memories and know how much I have loved being their mommy.