Dear Moms of Twins...

My sweet, Batman loving, dimple faced, growling at me when he falls because he's embarrassed, little man turns 3 today. It's a bittersweet day for me. Not many moms understand the mixed bag of emotions I feel today. The happiness that he is even here, that I can squish on him and tell him I'm going to kiss his face until it falls off and he can reply "my face didn't fall off Mommy" in his growly little voice.  And for that I am eternally grateful. But I am also broken and sad. I am missing his twin. The one that didn't make it. That child should be here too. I should be squishing them and kissing their face off as well. But that child never made it out of my womb. You see, I am a mother of twins, but no one sees it.

The minute I saw that first ultrasound with two babies, I was sold. I was frightened and nervous... going from 3 babies to 5. But that is what God had in store for us. And I was excited and completely on board. We started planning. But somewhere deep in the back of my mind I knew that just because there were 2 babies in there, it didn't mean I would give birth to 2 babies. I had lost two babies between my first and second children but I continued to ignore the feeling. After all, I had already fallen in love with both of those babies, I knew where their car seats were going to go in the van. I knew how we were going to lay out the nursery with two cribs. I knew there was enough love to go around.

And when that nagging feeling came true, the one that I had completely ignored... I was devastated. How do you mourn for one child and be grateful for the other? There's no manual on that. I still hurt. There are days, especially the ones when I meet a parent who has twins, and think, that should be me. Today is another day I dance on the edge of happy and sad.

But you know what hurts the most? When parents of twins tell me how horribly hard their lives are. Now don't get me wrong, it's in our nature to complain about things being hard. All babies are hard, if yours isn't, don't tell anyone, you won't have any friends.

But I think I speak for every situation, not just having twins, when I say that when you complain about something incessantly, there is bound to be someone within ear shot that has either lost that very thing you are complaining about having, OR would give anything TO have that very thing you are complaining about.

If you take away anything from this, take away this, please take a beat and soak in how blessed you really are. You never know what others have been through or who has had it harder.  I know that is what I will be doing today. Soaking in every moment of this sweet face....

Lulu Bean is FOUR?

I remember when we left Oregon only a year and a half ago and so many of our friends were like, "my goal in life is to get that Lucy to talk to me." 

Most of them wouldn't believe this Lucy we have now. This 4 year old girl we have now, she's like a completely different person. Tony likes to describe her as a walking sitcom. She drops one-liners all the time. She throws out "I am going to give you infinity hugs" like it's going out of style. She's the sweetest thing full of random sayings. When you offer her water, most kids would say gross, but she proclaims, "yes! that's my favorite drink in the whole world!" She is kind and sweet and above all she is grateful. Her only downfall, she has a hard time trying. Sometimes if it's too hard, she will barely try at ALL and just say.... "uhhhhh... it's tooooo hard." Even if you ask her to "please pick up that piece of lint and put it in the trash." It's hilarious. But I suppose it's part of the sitcom charm. 

Just yesterday we were at the splash pad and a friend of mine leans over and says, "you better watch her, she's gonna grow up and be a supermodel." It's funny, I've never even thought of her that way before now. When Tatum was born, everyone always said how pretty she was. I didn't think of Lucy that way. Her crazy Lyle Lovett hair always got in the way. But as she's really starting to grow into herself, she really is a striking little girl. And with such an awesome personality on top of it, that girl is going to move mountains, I just know it. 

Brand new

One

Two

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 Four

 

Tatum turned 6... I know, I'm behind.

So there's this kid that follows rules. Those even exist? I don't even know what to do with her. She keeps me on my toes, that's for sure. I have to say, having a child that is kind of a little bit opposite of who you are, but in a totally good way, it's sort of good for you. When I want to break the rules, and Tatum is around, I can't. Or she will totally call me out on it. And what are you gonna do? Ummm.. sorry. I know I wasn't supposed to do that. I promise I won't do it again? It's almost like she's the adult sometimes and I'm the child. It's been good for me. I've grown up a lot. At least I know that when the kids are older and I send her with Spencer or Lucy that the truth will ALWAYS reveal itself. I just have to find a way to make sure her siblings don't hate her for it.

I swear, everytime I look at her she seems to have grown 2 more inches. She's helpful and sweet and smart. SO smart. And KIND. When she was 4 we had a talk about what it meant to be beautiful because it was about that time that everyone, people she knew and people she didn't, were telling her how beautiful she was. We were driving home from somewhere, we pulled into the garage, I turned around to talk to her and she looked like she was about to cry. I asked what was wrong and she blurted out, "Mama, I don't think I'm beautiful." Well that just about broke my heart. We went into this huge conversation about what it meant to be beautiful. We talked about exterior beauty and being pretty, which she totally obviously already was, but that being beautiful had more to do with what was inside your heart and how you treated people. Since then, she has blossomed into the sweetest kid. Her last day of Kindergarten, her teacher awarded her with the "Kindness" award and she spent her entire recess yesterday trying to help a friend rekindle a friendship with another friend when she had no reason to and would gain nothing from it.

I'm so proud of Tatum. I think she knew that beautiful girl was inside her. She just had to figure out how to bring her out.

3 weeks

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5

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My Bucket is 8.

There's nothing in this world to make you feel old like your child's birthday. Am I right? Especially when you look at them and can barely remember what they looked like as a baby. Today marks the day I became a mother 8 short years ago. Who knew what a sweet boy that not so little ten pound, four ounce, screaming-all-the-time-baby would grow up to be?

While he came into this world with an abnormally large body, a squished neck on one side, bulging on the other, with no chin, and the loudest scream you can imagine... he has become the most adorable, kindest, giving, think outside of the box, kid. And I am proud to call him my son.

In my mind, he stopped aging at 6. But when we have our heart to heart chats, his reasoning and ability to fathom concepts is well beyond his 8 years. We went for a walk yesterday and he stopped at every blown over garbage can and picked them up for our neighbors. After wrestling with a little boy in the neighborhood yesterday, you could see the look of devastation on his face when the boy accidentally got hurt. He didn't even have to be asked to apologize as he rushed to see if the child was okay. Earlier, Declan was trying to climb the stairs to the slide and Spencer just scooped him up, carried him up the play structure and took him down the slide without even being asked. I am so proud of the kind, helpful, giant hearted kid he is and the man that I know he will grow up to be. He's going to make big waves in this world. Big waves.

An hour old:

8 years later:

Bittersweet Birthday

Welp, here we are.

My baby turned one.

*Sigh. We did it. We made it through 4 stints of babyhood. Sleepless nights... the zombie-phase. The gassy nights, the screaming nights, the "I just don't wanna sleep, so I'm gonna keep you up with me" nights.

I look at those moms that are ready to give birth at any moment with their first baby, or are cradling their newbies with pity. I don't ever have to do that again. But at the same time, that moment when you first see your baby and realize just how fragile life is and how much you are responsible for from here on out... My favorite moment.

I'm overjoyed and saddened. I want to press the pause button on the day and relive the moment I walked into his room this morning when he awoke and started bouncing up and down in his crib. It's true what they say, it went by fast. Really fast. But I do feel like I took in every moment, cherished it, and stuffed it deep down in the crevasses of my brain so that those moments, the ones I don't ever want to forget, will always be there. It might take some gingko biloba to access them, but they're there.

So here's to a day of celebrating the birth of by far, the happiest baby I've ever had. With the biggest smile, and head rocking excitement, he will melt many a girl's heart someday. But for now, he melts mine. I love you Mr. Gibbers.

Tazey Eli

Tatum is 5. That went by far too fast.

I still remember how desperately I wanted her, crying and praying, thinking that Spencer would end up being an only child. I was heartbroken... NOT that Spencer was my only child, but that he would never know how amazing it was to have a sibling. I am so very grateful to have grown up with 3 fantastic brothers and I wanted that for my child. Brothers, sisters, didn't matter. Someone to grow up with, rough house with, play with, laugh with, fight with... And I thought Spencer would never get that. It wasn't until I gave up trying that God blessed me with the sweetness that is Tatum.

It's almost as if Tatum herself is an embodiment of my struggle to have another child. I tried so hard to have another baby, just like I tried so hard to get Tatum to be mobile. But just like God was waiting for the right moment to grant me another child, she was waiting for her exact right moment. She moves at her own pace, a perfect pace for her. You can't force her to do anything, never have been able to. But if you're sweet and kind to her and always loving, she will return that kindness and love tenfold. God does the same, turns out.  He is continuously teaching me through Tatum. I am so grateful he gave me her. I suppose there were some lessons I needed to learn, and He continues to teach me every day.

She was by far, my easiest baby. That's why I always encourage mother's who are scared of transitioning from one baby to two, not to worry because that was the smoothest transition from baby to baby I've had. It might be Tatum's calmness, but I could set her down to go deal with her ruckus causing brother and come back to a completely content little girl. Almost too easy.

When Lucy was born, Tatum took to the older sibling role like an absolute professional. At 2 she would sit and hold her baby sister and soothe her to sleep. It was insane to me. Spencer, would just try and leave Tatum (when she was a new baby) where she was if she started to cry, (while he was holding her) and he was 5 months older when Tatum was born. But not Tatum, she would shoosh Lucy and give her a binky to calm her. It was the most amazing thing to watch such a little person have such patience.

At three, Tatum's personality really started to blossom. She loved everything pink and frilly and girly. Still does. Still "shy" but when you were blessed enough to experience the moments where she came out of her shell, it was like magic.

Then 4 hit and this adorably snarky little thing, with the quirkiest sense of humor emerged. I give credit to the little girl down the road that she would play with. She talked baby talk to Tatum, told her what to do, and would call Tatum shy. Tatum wouldn't stand for it. And I seem to recall a time or two when Tatum told her "You're not my boss, and I'm not shy. I just don't want to talk to you." I was probably more proud of her than I should've been. Since then, there's been no looking back. She is growing into a strong, independent "Little Mama." Or at least that's what we call her because every time her baby brother wakes up, she asks, "can I go take care of him?" 

She's growing up so fast. Literally, she's only a few inches shorter than Spencer. I have a feeling she's gonna pass him up in the next couple of years. 

I love you infinity Tatum and thank you for always cuddling with me when I ask and giving me my kisses and squishes. You are more than I could have ever imagined could be possible.

My Bucket is Seven.

It was 7 years ago today that this tank of a baby who resembled a four month old with his black hair, tiny dark eyes and ginormous cheeks, made his way into the world and made me a mommy for the very first time.  I wanted him so very badly, but as every new mother knows, he wasn't quite what I expected. He was so much more... From the beginning he's kept me on my toes and I'm so proud of the young man that I catch glimpses of him becoming, and that I get to call him mine. He is such a sweet, smart, handsome, bighearted kid and I cannot wait to see what his seventh year brings... Love you Spencer!

 One:

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Three:

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 Seven:

Happy belated birthday Lu...

It's so hard to believe that I once had a brunette baby girl. I cannot believe that it's been 2 years since this sweet little thing was born. She was the most petite of my babies and still is. She had the teeniest little buns and was the only baby to ever wear size newborn diapers. She was so calm and would go to sleep simply by me stroking her soft brown hair. 

Then her and her sweet soft brown hair somehow turned into Lyle Lovett when she was one. She looked just like her mama, down to the dark brown eyes and crooked little smile.

 As Lucy grew, her personality seemed to grow to match her hair. Wild, crazy, with a mind of her own and apparently blonde. My mother always wished that I'd get a child exactly like me, and guess what... Here she is. She definitely has a personality far different from her siblings, but as a 3rd child, I know that that is exactly what she needs to forge her way in a family of 6.

 She is by far the most vocal and opinionated child I've had thusfar, but I'm so glad she has a mind of her own. She has been speaking in full sentences since before she turned 2 and frequently says, "I got it" when asked if she needs help with what she's doing. Her favorite phrase as of the last week has been, "Baby's eatin' your booby, Mommy" when her new baby brother nurses. I can't help but laugh and agree. She thinks she's 6 and tries to boss her big brother & sister around. I can't wait to see who she becomes as this next year as a big sister goes by... I love you Bean!

Slurpee Baby is TWO!

I can't believe it's been two years since we've met our little Lucy. She came into this world so easily. One push and she was out. She didn't look like anyone other than herself with that full head of dark brown hair. She was so smelly from the leftover vernix that I could hardly think of much else, other than, when does she get her first bath? She's been a little stinker ever since.

I can't complain though, she's a perfect little recreation of me in nearly every way but one... She snores... Just like her daddy. She wants what she wants when she wants it and it's always now.

I can relate.

And I wouldn't want her any other way. She thinks she's a 6 year old and doesn't like Tatum telling her what to do but has no problem asking Spencer for help, which makes perfect sense right?

She will never give you a kiss or hug when you ask her to, but when she does give them, it's on her own terms, when you least expect it, and it is the sweetest most honest love you'll ever receive.

I am so grateful for my little Lulu Bean and couldn't see our little family functioning without her. I cannot wait to see what a great big sister she is going to be. I have a feeling she is going to really come into her own and step up to the challenge. Now I have to go give her hugs & kisses while I she will let me... She's sleeping.

My miracle turned 4.

As a lot of you know, Tatum is my miracle baby. I lost 2 babies before her, thinking that I was never going to be able to have another child. BUT fortunately for me and for this world, God had other plans. And now, the way I see it, as sad as it may sound, had I NOT lost those babies, I wouldn't have the sweet, dimple-faced, emotional, loving little girl that I have now.

It is so hard to believe that she's no longer the "Baby Tatum" Spencer so sweetly called her when she was teensy. She's tall for her age and every time she asks me to straighten her hair, it makes me a little sad inside because I can see a glimmer of the teenager she's going to be in what will seem like no time at all. But despite the sadness that she's no longer my little baby girl and she is inevitably growing up, I am so very proud of her. You definitely can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do until she is absolutely ready, which has been evident since she was a tot and didn't walk til 17 months old-when she knew she could do it without falling... But just the other day, after an hour of sitting at the McDonald's play structure, she finally, in her own time, went and played with the other kids. I was so proud. That's something she never would've done, even a few short months ago.

She and Lucy recently moved into one room together and I was curious to see how everything would work out and I am pleased to say that Tatum is such a sweet little mama to her little sister. When Lucy cries, she calms her down, when she loses her pacifier she brings it to her. I love her to death and am so excited to see what God has in store for her as she maneuver's through this next year and the years ahead.

6 years ago my life changed forever...

Spencer asked me last night, "how was I born?"And this is what I told him:

6 years ago today, in the middle of the night my belly started to hurt. Every 5 minutes it would hurt. When Daddy finally woke up at 5 in the morning I told him it was time to go to the hospital. I walked around the hospital with Daddy for 8 hours to try to get you to come out, but it didn't work. You wouldn't listen! Surprise surprise. ;) So the doctors gave me some medicine to help you come out and you STILL wouldn't listen. Then the doctor popped the bubble of water around you with a big crochet hook to try and get you to come out and you finally said okay. So I pushed REAL hard and I pooped (insert an insane amount of 6 year old little boy laughter).

Then I pushed again and out you came! And you were HUGE! The doctor put you on my tummy and I said, "He's an angel. An angel sent straight from heaven." (insert said little boy's sweet little "awe") And that is how I became a mommy for the very first time.

Your face was so red and swollen and you didn't have a chin (insert giggle) and you had dark black hair and looked like a little eskimo baby. Scratch that, a BIG eskimo baby. And the whole time we were at the hospital the nurses would pop their heads in and say, "I just wanted to come see the 10 pound baby! Oh my goodness! He's so huge!" 

And here you are 6 years later, even HUGER. So grown up, so sweet, so smart and so loving. It's hard to remember you were ever so "little." Sometimes when I am feeling nostalgic, I'll pick up a 10 pound bag of sugar in the grocery store and think about my baby boy. I am so proud of the little boy with the HUGE heart that you have become. I love you Spencer, Happy Birthday!

Where's My Slurpee!?

Oh Lulu Bell. One year ago, little did I know what a spunky yet sweet little lady I was about to meet. Last year, at 7am, your Daddy & I headed over to the hospital and got hooked up to some nice labor inducing drugs. A few hours later, I got me my epidural, and life was good. At 6:46pm I started to shake and cry (that was always my indicator with your brother and sister that I was ready to push) and your Daddy told the nurse it was time. Much like your sister's birth, the doctor was busy eating dinner. So... we waited. 10 minutes later, she came in and told me to push and I told her to sit down first. Good thing I did, because I sat up, asked for a refresher course on how exactly I was supposed to do this... and, what must've been a push later, you were here. You were a SMELLY 9 pound 7 ounce and 22 inch baby COVERED in vernix. BUT, you were absolutely beautiful and with so much dark hair, your father questioned his part in your arrival.

Such a sweet and quiet little baby you were. Those first few days, we would just cuddle and your brother and sister would ooh and ahh over you, until you pooped. Then they'd leave.

I was so grateful that all I needed to do in order to put you to sleep was to rub your sweet smelling, soft hair.

You were such a cuddler, still are. I love how you still lay your head on my shoulder when you know it's time for bed.

Such a strong little lady. You had your head up only days after you were born

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At 6 months old you were quite the little chunk. And to everyone's surprise, your hair didn't fall out! It grew... and grew... and started to grow in blonde! What? I just tell everyone that you went through a goth phase while you were in my tummy. ;)

And then, at 7 months old, you gave your mommy and daddy a run for their money and got the sickest any of my babies has ever been. You and I spent many nights together in the hospital while I rocked and prayed over you. Despite your exhaustion, you were a fighter. And with God's help, you were healed. You lost a chunk or two, but it didn't take long for you to gain it back.

And now, you are the most beautiful, crazy curly, two-toned hair colored, feisty, stubborn, warm, loving, curious, attached, Ba of a Lulu Bell and I will always adore you my little mini-me. Happy Birthday Lucy Olivia! Slow down... you're growing up far too fast for your mama.