I've decided that my only new blog promise is to make no more promises. That will work since I can't break them.

I obviously never put a post in for G's 8 weeks. So, here are some photos.......





About 10 hours after birth:

The red hair was such a surprise.
It was even curly!

He fit well into the Newborn size... not much room to grow (or stretch) though. G was 9lb, 8oz at birth.

I was also surprised at how alert he was that first day. I expected him to sleep a lot but he really didn't.

Later that day, my dad picked the big boys up from their father's house so they could meet their new little brother. It was sweet.

Even big, cool DS1 wasn't too tough to "Ooh & Ahh" over him - and text his friends photos.

I almost didn't take a photo because I felt (and looked) like hell, but I just had to capture the first day of our family of 6.





Little G is one month here.
Yep, Big G is still in pajamas. I have no idea why. He does love his PJs though.








April, in our backyard.

LG (Little G) is 2 months old.

J just turned 10!

















This was Mother's Day weekend, at my Grandparent's house.

It may not be a great photo technically, but I *love* it.

I am so blessed to have my grandparents still here, and doing really well. The kids really enjoy them too.













That next weekend...

Why yes, I am nursing a baby in my graduation cap.

I can't believe I enrolled back in college when BG (Big G) was a baby. He's 7 now!









Mid-June:

There's a park near our house with a creek the kids love to play in.

I just had to take a photo of them all there. It's now blown up on DH's desk too.







Father's Day -- we had a picnic at a park near my parent's house.

This is my mom & dad holding LG.

It's the first time in many years that I've had a kid for my dad to hold on Father's Day. The boys are always at their father's house.








And of course, DH's first "official" Father's Day.

We've celebrated it with the boys every year (usually a week early) but this time was different.











LG at 5 months old.

DH's grandma was not doing well so the 3 of us took a quick weekend trip to see her, and let her meet LG.

He's skooching across her floor here. ;)







Well, that's a quick photo summary of the last few months.

Now to prepare for the big family reunion this weekend up in the mountains. It's for my dad's family, and that's a big clan.

Blog? What's that again?

I have a blog. I really should post something occasionally -- even if it's just for myself to read later on and remember my great thoughts.

I actually had this self-conversation earlier this week (doesn't that sound better than saying I talk to myself?) so here I am.

I have discovered that life with a new baby hasn't allowed me much computer time. I check email, Facebook, and message boards via my electronic crutch ::ahem:: iPhone.

So, I rediscover my own blog with a precious little boy laying across my lap, fast asleep. He will be 8 weeks tomorrow, so I'll post photos then.

I promise.

Moments of Truth

There are several moments in my life I remember as important, where life's path can go 2 remarkably different ways. I had one last night.

We had brief visits from the boys yesterday when they rode their bikes over, but the rest of the day was a casual Father's Day/Birthday (mine) celebration. My birthday was actually a week earlier, but we've been busy.

Some things slip my mind when I get busy. The hubby asked me if I was supposed to start my period that day and of course I didn't know. I have friends that track cycles, ovulation days, even daily temperatures but I can barely remember whether or not the "dear Aunt F" visited that month or not. I checked my planner and counted weeks... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... Wait, 5?!?! Uh oh.

We've already established that I know remarkably little about my body's cycles, especially for a mom of 3. This is something even I know though. Do I feel pregnant? No, not really. Boobs sore? Nope. Morning sickness? Nope, but I have had mild heartburn for 2 days --is that a symptom? Extra-emotional? I did bawl during Gran Tourino, but not more than I would if I was PMSing... which would have happened weeks ago. Oh, shit. (Historical note: I bought a PG test after bawling in the Kohl's dressing room and found out I was having DS3.)

Next came shock & confusion -- I do have an IUD after all, and that goalie wasn't getting benched until this winter! Then comes acceptance. "OK Lord, You are in control and if you want me to be pregnant now, I don't get it but I guess there's a reason."

Of course, I hadn't even tested yet. On the way home from the gym, we stop at King Soopers for groceries and I get 2 tests - just in case. I slammed a glass of water & tried to take one. I guess I hadn't allowed that water enough time because the test didn't really work. It looked negative though. Really. Negative.

We eat dinner, I make a fritatta (new breakfast of choice around here) and now I have to go again. Well, I didn't have to wait 3 minutes. It turned almost immediately. In fact, the vertical line for positive was darker than the control line. OK. Wow. I start to shake a little.

On the way downstairs, the random thoughts are out of control. Ironically, I just had a conversation with a friend on Friday (over Happy Hour) about how God's plans for children don't always make sense to us but are for the best. She told me about a friend of hers who got pregnant with the almost fool-proof IUD.

The man was sitting at the kitchen table, doing some kind of engineering-geek problems. Fluid Mechanics, I think. I grabbed the camera to take sneaky photos but never ended up doing it. I plopped the test down in front of him and he stared. And stared. (Ever notice how those moments seem to go on forever?)

I'm trying to remember what exactly he said, and I'll put it here if I do. It was mostly just a shocked response though. And more staring.

I think he finally asked, "What does this mean?" My response, "Well, I'm pregnant. Happy Father's Day - you're going to be a daddy."

We decided to keep this under wraps until we both adjust to the information, see a doctor, and get further along in the pregnancy. There is a slightly higher risk of miscarriage when the IUD is removed too. It has to be removed, or that risk goes up to 50% later in pregnancy.

He had to call his brother, Will, because he was, "freaking the shit out" and I said good, because I needed to talk to my BFF, Rebecca. Later we discussed changes to our plans--- not going to Hawaii this fall, getting our house ready, etc. Lots to do.

Sleep did not come easy last night. Of course, we're planning a new course so that's not surprising.

I wish I could talk to the picture.

I can't say anything to the boys because I don't know what to say. I don't want to hurt their feelings or make them feel torn loyalties either. They get enough of that from the 'other side' already.

DS2&3 were cleaning their room for a LONG time. Finally I go up to check, and marvel at how much of the floor I can see, boxes of organized toys, etc. Truly, it was almost miraculous.

Then I look at the wall and I see a photo they found. It is the one and only portrait of me, the boys --and their dad. DS3 was only 2-3 months old, and their dad & I weren't even together when the photo was taken. (In fact, that was the only time he saw them for a few months.) We sure weren't getting along then -- evident by my fake, tortured smile. I think we did it because we felt that there should be a pic somewhere of the 5 of us.

Does somewhere have to be in a prominent location I see multiple times per day?

I don't feel hurt when I see the pic like I used to years ago. XH is just not my favorite person and I think he's a complete moron, who I'd rather not have on my walls.

See why I wish I could just talk to the picture and make it just leave on its own? It could go into a drawer or box and only come out when the boys had questions.

Time to brag

Monday I chaperoned the 1st & 5th graders to the zoo. All year, they've been paired up as "book buddies" where the 5th graders help the 1st graders in the library, work on reading, etc.

DS1 has this adorable crazy-haired girl named Sydney for his book buddy, and she is just the cutest thing. At the zoo, I had to remind most of the 5th graders several times (I had 4 pairs of kids) to keep their buddies close. I'm fairly sure DS1 held Sydney's hand the entire time.

He is a walking encyclopedia, and became her own personal tour guide. "Sydney, do you see the Capybara? See his nostrils on top of his head? They help him swim away from predators & hide in the plants." Then he'd pick her up to show her all the exhibits she couldn't see.

I told him at some point that he didn't have to hold her hand the whole time. He looked at me and said, "She's a little girl and sometimes people look for little girls to steal. I have to keep her safe." (I had to swallow the lump in my throat)

Sydney gave him a t-shirt as a gift for end of the year with "Tough Guy" on it. Her mom said Sydney always talks about DS1 and how much he looks after her at school. I am truly proud I have such a caring, compassionate young man.

Shaggy pics

I agreed to let the XH cut the boys' hair this time since he was unhappy with the lady I took them to a last time. (Hey, who knew that someone at Great Clips could screw up a boy cut?)

Well, he didn't get their hair cut before picture day, so I can now introduce my shaggy boys. 5th grade, 3rd grade, 1st grade.

Um, WHAT?!?

Last week I spent some time with DS1 & DS2 in the garden. By spending time, I really mean that I forced them to do work with me clearing the patch of weeds, rocks, and landscape fabric.

(It was "Take your child to work" day and I forgot to sign them up for events on campus, so we "worked from home" all day. I showed them that while their mom has a "real" job, she also takes care of the garden/plants, organizes clothes for donations, etc.)

So, I get out all of the garden tools and tell the boys to grab a rake or ho so we can get to the weeds. DS1 laughs and grabs one saying, "I want the dirty hoe!" Did I mention the mischievous grin? I pretended not to hear him, of course.

Later, as we attack the weeds the mischievous grin returns as he says "I won't have a 'ho' until I'm 16." WHAT?!?! Apparently the expression on my face silenced him and he amended, "I mean DATE, not, uh...."

I don't think I could speak for at least 5 minutes, and then I got to (gently) tell him that he should not date a "ho" and find out if he really knew what that meant.

Tell me again why I can't just keep them little and innocent?