Doesn’t baby Kai look just like his big brother, Hunter? And don’t they both look just like their daddy?
Kai is one week old now. He is lovely and loved.
I wrote this in November when we found out you were having another baby girl. Forgot to publish. This is for you, Rocky & Jovan!
The odds of having one child of either gender are nearly, but not exactly, 1 in 2. US birth statistics reveal the odds are slightly in favor of a baby’s being male: roughly 105 boys are born for every 100 girls. So the odds a newborn is male are 1 in 1.95 (51%), while the odds a newborn is female are slightly lower, 1 in 2.05. This means that, when it comes to a woman’s first children, streaks of daughters are slightly rarer than those of boys.
The odds a woman’s first 5 children will be female are only slightly lower than the odds a baby will be part of the birth of twins (1 in 31.12). Multiple births, especially those of higher order (triplets and beyond), are much rarer than streaks. SOURCE
You are having another girl! Yes, Averi had been planning for “a little Rocky” and it would sure be fun for me to see another “little Rocky” unleashed on the world, but from afar so I could laugh and enjoy his antics more (as opposed to running red-faced after him at 90-miles-per-hour and trying to keep his little highness from escaping safety 268 times a day). Oh, my Rocky, in retrospect, you were a hilarious handful, but during the days of your short little legs and gigantic mullet, oh my, I was pooped, pretty much all the time. Haha.
But before we got you, my darling boy, in 1984 (we dared not even hope), we were the parents of three, beautiful daughters. Three girls with 4 dozen dresses apiece. Three girls with tangles and curls and mountains of stuffed animals and lacy anklets and Barbie dolls and lilting voices and fuzzy slippers and joyous giggles.
And three is the big deal, you know. I have always told you: three is when you know you’ve got this thing. Or else you lose total control forever, but one day they all grow up and it is all fine, anyway. But three kids is the parental “tipping point,” in my humble opinion.
You see, when you have one child, there is balance: both parents are there to share the load and care for the little sweetie-pie. If one parent is sick, the other kicks in one-on-one. It is all very nice and manageable.
Then you have a second baby. Still – balanced. Because there is one adult per child. It all works out.
But three. Three is the one that will upset the proverbial fruit basket. Because if one parent is changing baby and another parent is cleaning up the child who is potty-training and just fell into the stool ~ who {???} will tend to the child who just ran out the door and down the street in nothing but a toddler-sized pair of cowboy boots and a nerf-gun in his hands? Who, I ask? That 1.5 children per parent thing does not work like it seems it should.
So, that you have had the courage to venture into parenting three puts you among the most courageous parents on the planet. Both of your mothers did it (yay, for Jo and me!), so you come from a land of “possible.” :)
I always tell everyone that once you have three children, you can add any amount and it no longer throws you. Have 3, or have 12*. It just doesn’t matter anymore. This is because you either become extraordinarily able to handle absolutely anything and everything child-rearing-and-raising brings with it and can no longer be conquered, nor intimidated by them, no matter the size of their miniature army-ness, or you sort of lose your marbles and are blissfully unaware that you have lost control. Either way, win-win. So have 5 or 7* or however many you want after you have crossed the three-line, you can do it!
*I am mostly kidding about having 7…or 12 ;)
But here you are, Rock-star and Jovanie: three babies. Three baby GIRLS! Three beautiful little daughters in a row. Just like your mom did, Jovan. Just like I did before the Rockster and the Storms came along.
They will never all sleep at the same time. If you nap when the baby naps, be prepared for the ornery things the older 2 will be doing while you blissfully rest [Vick’s Vapo-Rub, baby powder, needles and a water-bed….the memories]. It will take 3.76 hours to clean up. But the sleep will have made it worth it.
They will stay up too late almost every single night giggling and teasing each other and sharing their hearts and making each other cry and talking about what they will be when they grow up.
They will all want to cuddle with you at once. Or none of them will.
You will go through 862 bottles of hair detangler before they reach 18. Let’s not even talk shampoo and conditioner, and other beauty supplies. And, by the way, your skills at fancy French braiding will become world-renowned.
It is going to take 47 minutes just to get everyone properly strapped into their car seats. At which time one of them will need to go to the bathroom before you can leave. Really – total emergency.
You can weave red ribbons into long braids in their hair for Christmas and have them each hold a large mic and sing “Come on Ring those Bells” at church because the whole congregation will find your little girls as wondrous and adorable as you find them. Absolutely.
While you are nursing the baby, watch out for what those other 2 are up to. Don’t think they are not going to scheme, for the minute you get situated nursing is a great time to do or touch [whatever it is they have been forbidden to do or touch]. True story.
I hate to tell you that I left Tredessa in her little seat in a shopping cart 3 aisles over at the local department store and would not have thought another thing about it until I heard saleswomen oohing and aahing over her. She was a week old and dad was always the “cart driver.” But with 3 kids, he had one walking, and holding on, the other in the cart and now…the big, yellow newborn seat needed a space in an additional cart and I … left her for a few minutes. Yes. It happened. Keeping count of 3 kids is much, much harder. Much harder. I may have had to use my fingers.
You’re going to have 876 pink socks, but not the same-matching pink socks. They will each be slightly different and varying shades of pink. Oh yes, at one time there would have been a match for each, but where those go, no one knows. Mysterious.
And under every couch cushion will be dozens and dozens and dozens of hair ties and bobby pins. Count on that!
And of the 368 dolls they collectively own, only about 2 will actually be properly clothed at any given time.
You will see more shoes and small purses and pastel-jackets in your entry hall than in all of Macy’s~ all of Macy’s in the United States, actually.
You will have a house with three little girls. It will be sugar and spice and every-oh-so-nice-thing and pretty loud and high and songs will peal out and cries of distress over small things, too. They’ll all want to be as beautiful as their mama and they ‘ll need their daddy to affirm they are. Be the man of their dreams, Bo-Bear.
I had three daughters first, so I can tell you, it will be sweet. Not every second, but over the long haul of life, you will be blessed by more delicious-warm-cuddly-wondrous-sweetness than any of us deserves.
You have been chosen, entrusted by God, with these three, these little pretties. And they will be the strong, bold, courageous generation of women who speak and sing out the faithfulness of the Lord to generations you and I won’t ever even see. You are reaching into eternity x 3. In pink.
You got this!
Love,
mom
They lived through that awful Bronco game on Saturday by way of lots of good “football food.” Stayed up late watching silly movies and propped up in bed with stacks and stacks of pillows.
They got up early and watched “Kicking It,” (then jumped all over doing karate kicks) played many levels on their iPod games (but for a very limited time, because I am the Nonna and I said so!), played with Poppa’s “antique” electronic {extremely noisy} football game, ate chicken tacos and watched old b & w episodes of Gillgan’s Island.
Their energy level was dangerously high so I “challenged them” to run up and down the 2 flights of stairs to our top story…20 times! By golly they did it. It definitely wore them out (and Hunter may or may not be limping and moaning about very sore legs today).
Then they hauled out the 1960s Hot Wheels and miles of track which belonged to their Grand-poppa when he was a kid.
They built and re-built that track and tested car after car until they could tell me endless details of which cars took jumps well versus the ones that could hang tight on the curves. At some point they called in to Dave, “Poppa? We need more speed.” His engineering skills were needed to make cars go faster. :) They played with those Hot Wheels until nighttime fell.
We are blessed to have Hunter for some days while mommy and daddy are hanging with Baby Kai. So providing cousin-time is a good thing.
Did I mention several hundred Star Wars guys set up in marching formation in the living room?
I love him, I love him.
He is 5 days old today (Monday). These photos were taken when he was three days old.
Please pray for him, will you? Pray for my 7th grandbebe, 6 weeks early, if you would be so kind. He is still in NICU at a really wonderful hospital with an amazing staff. He has some challenges to overcome. He has rhythms to master and development to continue and bottles to learn to love.
Sleep is his favorite, right now. And he seemed to enjoy cuddling, too.
Poppa (who was also adopted so many years ago) blessed baby Kai.
This is the small giraffe who keeps careful watch over our little Kai during his time under “the lights.”
These were taken Saturday, “Bronco” day. And we dutifully wore blue and orange so the little guy would be exposed to that which he has been born.
But it didn’t help, did it? Don’t blame me, I wore my orange. I don’t even like football. But, wow, I adore Malakai, bunches!
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind’s wild lament
And the bitter weather
I hear it was cold that day, brrrrrrrrr. So, thank-you, Stephanie, for the pictures and to all the mommies and daddies who loaned their babies and especially thanks to Gavin (9), Hunter (8), Guinivere (7), Gemma May (5), Averi J (almost 5) and Amelie Belle (2 1/2). Because they are so darn-tootin’ cute and sweet to their Nonna.
All the grand-girls got IKEA dolls from a certain Nonna (aka “Nonni,” as dubbed by a few of the grandbebes).
My first dolls were fabric, embroidered faces. Good memories. :)
I meant to get a picture f each of them holding their babies, but alas, forgot. Did get a few of Averi, though, a couple of days later.
And may I say POO to Youtube for mis-identifying the original music and banning it from mobile playability??? I had to change to one of their ugh selections…YT is ticking me off.
So many snippets to remember. So many frames I’d like to freeze.
Christmas morning – Stormie bringing us breakfast so we wouldn’t be lonely on our first Christmas ever without the whole family in the house, raising the roof with creative gift-giving and happy-noise. That is a good frame…it worked.
And then guess what? They all came later and stayed late and it was messy and wonderful just like always. :)
Ryan’s family from Florida joined us for Christmas, too. Then 2 days later, Steph and Tris went for an anniversary celebration and we got the kids and Tuppy-the-Puppy, which made for very merry and bright days, too.
Just for added fun, we invited over Hunter and the 2 Rhoades baby girls.
Using 145 different photographs to fill this 54-second film, we present “Magi This!” It would have been a longer story, but their parents showed up early.
Christmas lights are twinkling through bedroom windows as nightlights and I pray over cherub faces and tuck each child in with the requisite two stuffed animals and/or squishy toys. We whisper our good-nights, the boys in one room, and 4 little girls next door.
I give the regular if-you-wake-up-before-everyone-else-please-just-read-a-book-and-don’t-wake-your-cousins speech, though I know with 100% certainty that it will be ignored at 5:54 am sharp tomorrow. Still, I go through it and ask one more time: Did you go pottie? Brush your teeth? I add more blankets so they won’t get cold. They kick them off, “I’m hot, Nonna.”
Everyone is tucked. I can’t help but pray over them again and again for God’s anointing on their little lives and for peace and joy and for good restful sleep and a smile in their hearts and for God to heal little sniffles and keep them safe from evil, who lurks near our babies – this, we know. I pray and I pray and they let me. They make their requests known and soon, if I don’t say amen, we will be up all night praying over every detail in their universes…
More hugs, more kisses, more one-last-drinks…whew. We made it.
I walk into the hallway and through my house. O.my.goodness. There are globs of toothpaste in every sink, toothbrushes teetering on counter edges. There are overcoats and outer-wear and underwear strewn about in bathrooms, entry, living room, family room, and yes, even in the kitchen. Every couch pillow and cushion has been used otherwise and our floor is covered with blankets and baggies of cheese balls and water bottles with names written on them. Are there any toys left in the playroom, I wonder?
Is that a marshmallow gun target on our front door? Why, yes, it is. Why do you ask?
Evidence of a family feast-night and a disco dance and watching the Turtle Man- Christmas episode and a couple of Gilligan’s Island re-runs (to my great dismay) and my house is in utter, complete and total jumbled, snarly, tangled, topsy-turvy, chaos and clutter, with a side order of full-blown dishevelment. Yep. It is a mess.
Still basking in the glow of the holy days of the holidays. Merriment continues…
Did I really, actually whip up a feast of pork chops and applesauce for 6 little grandbebes?
I mean yes – there were LOTS of other dishes, too because we were eating off those giant school-cafeteria trays and you must fill every section. But the main thing was porks chops and applesauce.
Because of The Brady Bunch, silly. I want them to be exposed to the classics, for sure. ;) Porks chops and applesauce for dinner. That’s swell!