Just hit her back!

Porter was getting all of his markers and paint perfectly set up so he could enjoy craft time. Charlotte comes over to do what she does best, destroy Porter's perfect arrangement. If she just glances in the direction of where he is sitting, and he knows what she is up to, he will start screaming bloody murder. This gets her even more revved up to complete her path of destruction. She runs over there with her arm cocked back in the "I'm going to hit you" position, and in 2 seconds flat she performs her perfect follow through. Porter is still screaming, but just taking it like the sweet little dude he is. Never on earth would he think of hitting her back. I was across the room with my hands full of something and couldn't get over to the slugfest in time. Porter looks at me with this look in his eyes like "what do I do?!?!" so I say, "Porter, just hit her back." This is not our conventional approach to problem solving, but I kinda felt sorry for the little guy getting beat up by his little sister, and quite honestly we go with other forms of discipline to get her to stop hitting with little to no luck so I thought that maybe that might work. If she got whacked back just one time maybe she would STOP!

Charlotte, still slugging away, Porter, still taking it, looks at me again with those eyes. I say, "Porter, just hit her back!" He looks at me funny and takes his hands and turns her around and hits her on the back! He had no idea of this concept of retaliation and took my words quite literally. He whacks her on the back and she whacks him back. He looks at her again, turns her around, and hits her on the back once again. By this time I had cleared my hands and ran over to stop the madness, all the while dying laughing.

I love that my sweet little dude would never even think to hit his baby sister. Good thing because we will not be using this method in the future. Apparently that just fuels Charlotte's fire to hit harder. We will be going back to time out!

5

Paxton,

You are 5 years old. 5! 5 years old! I can't believe it! 5 puts you into a whole different category of life. You really are a big boy now! And I could not be more proud of the big boy that you are.

The thing about you that makes me most proud is your kind heart. You are patient, you are kind, and you are considerate, even at 5 years old. You listen. You try so hard at everything you do. You are amazing.

I cried the whole day of your birthday this year. Tears of joy. Tears of disbelief. I know it sounds so cliche, but I just don't know where the last 5 years have gone. It seems like today I woke up and all of a sudden you were a 5 year old little boy. You are no longer the tiny baby we brought home from the hospital that had a tummy ache and was so uncomfortable, but still had the best belly laugh I have ever heard in my life. You are no longer the toddler who was a little unsteady on his feet, running around our house so fast you fell head first into the wooden door frame and dented the wood with your hard head! You are no longer the 2 year old who would sing "Thhhhhaaatttt'ssss Elmo's World" over and over but instead of Elmo you would replace it with the different names of people in our family. You are no longer the 3 year old boy who's role as a big brother of 1 was revised to a big brother of 2. A job that you do so well and take so seriously. You are no longer a 4 year old boy who would tell knock knock jokes to no end that made absolutely no sense. You are now a 5 year old boy. Who is missing his bottom front tooth. Who is learning to swim so well. Who has conversations with his mommy and daddy that are well beyond his years. Who is nice to everyone. Who loves to draw pictures of superheroes and shares everything with his brother. You are a 5 year old boy who thinks he loves attention, but once it's upon you, gets shy and quiet. You are a 5 year old boy that reduces his mommy to tears daily remembering the sweetness and perfection you have displayed that day. You are a 5 year old boy that is a perfect role model for his siblings.

Paxton, you are the first child to ever have my heart. You are sweet and smart and sensitive and thoughtful. You are funny and silly and full of joy. You are different. You are perfect. You are mine. And I love you more than anything in the world.

Happy 5th birthday big boy!

Love,

Mom

A Birthday Poem from Pops

MY PAL PAXTON

On March the 8^th 2007

A Gift Came Down To Us From Heaven.

A Handsome Big Boy and Number One Son

Whom Kate and Scott Named Paxton.

He Loved To Smile And Play All Day

But At Night He Acted Another Way.

He’d Toss And Turn And In Sleep He Would Cry

So Mom And Dad Asked The Doctors Just Why.

They Ran Lots Of Tests On Our Little Boy

And Thought He Might Not Like Soy.

Finally They Decided With No Ifs Ands Or Buts,

That Pax Was Allergic to Dairy and Nuts.

What Pax Couldn’t Eat Gave His Mom And Dad Fits

Until They Discovered Chicken Nuggets.

What Else Can Pax Eat His Mom Thought With A Sigh.

How About, Said His Dad, Hideaway Pizza Pie?

On His Special Diet Pax Just Grew and Grew

And Spread Happiness To All That He Knew.

He Learned All His Letters And Started To Talk

It Seemed That He Did It Before He Could Walk.

In Owasso He’d Run, Jump And Play Very Hard

In Robert And Noni’s Green, Spacious Backyard.

With Mimaw He’d Snuggle And Ask For A Story.

Then With Old Papas He’d Sing “That’s Amore.”

He Loves Brother Porter and Charlotte His Sis

And Makes Them Feel Special With A Bubba Hug And A Kiss.

To His Mother And Father He Brings Only Joy.

They Love Him So Much, Their First Baby Boy.

So On His Fifth Birthday We All Say Out Loud,

We Love Our Boy Paxton, He Makes Us So Proud!

Happy Birthday, My Pal!

Papas

Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

I prayed for you. Before I even knew you were to be, I prayed for you.

It was the longest I have gone without being pregnant since I learned I was pregnant with Paxton in June 2006. I found out I was pregnant with Porter shortly after Paxton's first birthday. I found out I was pregnant with Charlotte when Porter was 9 months old. Charlotte was over one and a half, and I wasn't pregnant. It was about that time. But was it?

We always knew we wanted a "big family" before we even started having kids. How big is a "big family" anyway?

We went through all of the usual questions, I guess you could say. How would the kids respond to having another sibling? Can my body handle this again? Can our marriage handle this again? Can our bank account handle this again? The answer was simply, "We don't know." But we have never known. Not before Pax or Port or Charlotte. We never knew how all the pieces would fall together, but what we did know is that our lives would be richer, our hearts would grow bigger, and we would slowly figure the answers out. But with all of that being said we weren't really sure if it was time again. So I prayed.

I prayed that I would KNOW. I would know if it was time now, or later, or ever. I prayed and I didn't think about it anymore. I didn't think about it anymore until that day I drug the babies into Walgreens on the way to pick Paxton up from school. I was anxious and impatient. We had plans after school and I knew I wasn't going to be home for a while, so what else is a girl to do but take the pregnancy test right there in the Walgreens bathroom with the babies slithering around on the dirty floor. It was one of those pregnant/not pregnant tests so it seemed like an eternity before the word PREGNANT popped up in that window. WHAT?!?!?! I mean I know I had asked for guidance just a few weeks before, but I thought that I was going to get this feeling like "oh yes we are supposed to have another baby." And I would go to Scott with this beautiful story of how it had been in my heart to have another baby. Instead when we got home from the park I sat him down and said point blank I'M PREGNANT!! And what does Scott say? I knew it!

So there you go, baby. We are over the moon excited to meet you. Do we still have all of the same questions? Of course. But now we have other more important questions to ask ourselves, like, are you a boy or a girl? What are we going to name you? Who are you going to look/act like? And all of that other fun stuff. The unknown will all come to be known in due time. The one thing I know NOW is that you were meant to be a part of our family, and each and every one of us loves you more already than we ever knew we could!

Love,

Your momma

Happy Anniversary!

Scott,

Today we have been married 8 years! When comparing it to the tomorrows we have left, 8 years doesn't seem like long, but comparing it to the yesterday's past, I feel like 8 years is a lifetime. And it has been a lifetime. I feel like my life really started over when we started dating.

More has happened in the last 8 years of our lives than the previous 22 it seems. And we've been through it all together. We have experienced some incrediably high high's. Getting our first jobs, buying our first few homes, starting our own family traditions, having a baby, and another baby and another baby, financial peaks, amazing friendships, watching loved ones get married and have babies, getting to know each other better, getting to know our parents and siblings on a different level, getting to know ourselves better.

We have also experienced some low low's. Job loss, DEATH, religious differences, the stress of being apart when you're traveling. I know there is more that aren't coming to mind now. Those aren't the things that stick to my memory.

And now 8 years later we are stronger, more in love, better people, because we experienced all of these things together. We were just babies when we got married and we heard the statistics. We knew we wouldn't be a statistic. And we aren't. We could have been. We could still be. But we won't. We won't because we don't want to be. Because we love each other that much. Not because we have kids or because we share a bank account or because of what other people would think. Because we love each other. That much.

I am not ashamed to say that we haven't always had a perfect marriage. Anyone who says they do is lying. I am happy to say that we have a really solid, incrediable, loving, accepting, understanding marriage. All because we have earned it. Because we try. Because we are best friends. Because we are a team. We are two halves to a whole. We need each other and we know that.

I love you, Scott. More than words can ever express....

Scott

I've been MIA. It's a long story. I'll get to that another day.

In honor of my anniversary and Valentine's Day, I am dedicating this week of blog posts to Scott.

After 8 years of marriage and 2 years of dating, I am still realizing things about Scott that I love every day. Today while I was laying on the couch in the fetal position and Scott was cleaning the kitchen, bathing the kids, taking out the trash, etc., I realized that Scott really steps up.

I am a helicopter. I hover over everyone in my household, basically telling them how to do everything. It is a weakness of mine for sure. I remember when Scott and I had only been married for a very short time I got on to him one morning for not making the bed the right way. He, very sweetly, told me that he was more than willing to make the bed every morning, but it wasn't going to look exactly like it did when I made it. He had a little different technique and it looked just as nice, just a little different. So, if I wanted him to make the bed I had to let him do it and stop hovering over him telling him how to do it. I didn't ask again. I liked the way I did it and didn't want him to mess it up. Helicopter.

Since I have been staying home for the last 5 years I have gotten even worse about this. It's hard for me to let other people do things around the house because they don't do it the way I do it, and come on, I do it pretty well so why wouldn't they do it the way I do. This is a monster I have created, however, I get frustrated with everyone else (aka Scott) for not helping out enough. I am aware that this is not fair, however, it's hard for me to remember that from time to time.

I haven't been feeling well lately. As I laid on the couch and watched Scott perform all of the things I normally do, I was so impressed with how good he actually is at it all. It got me to thinking about all the times when I needed help, but was too proud to ask, and Scott stepped up to the plate.

Every time I get pregnant Scott goes into training it seems. He works out harder, eats healthier, and works harder so that he is in his prime for when the baby comes.

Charlotte wakes up ridiculously early some days and then goes down for a morning nap before the rest of the family is even awake. If I doze back off with Charlotte, Scott gets up with the boys and makes them breakfast and lets me sleep.

Anything that even remotely resembles manual labor, ie. moving furniture around, carrying heavy things upstairs, etc., he takes care of it and tells me to "just sit and look pretty."

When I am feeling puny, like today, and am not up for much of anything he steps up. He does what needs to be done. Without me hovering like a helicopter telling him how to do everything. He is awesome. He is seriously so so awesome.

I am glad that after 8 years of marriage I still don't take him for granted. When he is traveling for work things just don't feel right around here. Sometimes his way is the better way. And now I know that.

Dragon Babies

They kids all have such adorable imaginations, and they are all so different.

Charlotte plays "house" with her babies all day long. She carries around this one baby and this little pillow all day. The baby, and the pillow, have to go everywhere with us.

Porter has his own language. He makes up words for everything that sound like gibberish. For example, apparently "blukie" means soup. Don't ask.

Paxton will play with his action figures and robots and cars and trucks all day long. I can hear him in the other room making up these elaborate stories about what all of his characters are doing.

One day several weeks ago, Porter and Paxton were playing behind this chair in my bedroom for what seemed like forever. Paxton would come out from behind the chair and bark some orders at Porter to stay behind and "protect the babies." When they are playing so nicely and independently like this I don't want to say a word to them as not to distract them from this pleasant play. Finally, I had to know what was going on, so I asked Paxton what they were doing behind the chair. "We are protecting our dragon babies." I looked back behind that chair and what do you think was back there...about 500 Q-tips! Apparently the Q-tips were their dragon babies and Porter was the mommy and Paxton was, of course, the daddy. Needless to say, the term dragon babies stuck.

I was talking to my mom the other day telling her about the doctor's appointment I had just finished up with the boys, "Well they have a virus, I guess. The nurse stuck that dragon baby up their nose and they tested negative for the flu."

Scott's ear was itching the other day and I saw him scratching it. I said, "what's wrong with your ear?" He replies, "it is itching like crazy. I wish I had a dragon baby so I could scratch it on the inside."

Porter, having to go back to the doctor still sick, says, "please mommy, don't let them stick that dragon baby back up my nose!!!"

So if you ever hear me refer to a dragon baby, at least you are up to speed on the terminology now!