Soccer!

Soccer season is coming to an end for the spring. Jonah played in a league with 10-12 year olds, so he had plenty to learn. I know he was frustrated about not getting more playing time than he did, but I was so proud of his effort. Every time he played, he gave it his complete effort. Very few kids on his team hustled as much as he did.

Turns out Josh had a lot to say during games. All those years of soccer growing up had a way of working their way to the surface, I guess.

(Coming from someone who grew up with a dad whose baseball rules included 1. Hustle and 2. Always know the score of the game, serious hustle is a great compliment.)

Caroline also loved soccer this year. Her league was for age 4-6, so she enjoyed being the tallest and most dextrous on the team. She was #2:

Miriam desperately wished she could be on a team, so she wore an old soccer jersey to every game and practiced on the sideline with her own soccer ball (when she wasn't busy doing somersaults, that is).

All three children have expressed interest in playing fall soccer as well. We liked the league, so we just might do that. That said, we were at the soccer field 3-4 days a week as it was. With Caroline in the next league up and Miriam playing next fall, we might just need to set up a tent and live at the soccer field. I'm not feeling willing to make that commitment today, so I told them not to ask me after I've had a few weeks off.

10 Years

10 years ago right now, I was checking in to the hospital to have a baby. I had no contractions or pain of any kind, but my water broke (sort of*), so my OBGYN sent me off to the hospital anyway. On the way to the hospital, we passed Josh's grandpa on his beach cruiser bike. He was so excited when we told him where we were going!

We walked the hospital floors and up and down the stairs. Mom, Dad, Jo Anne (and Barb!), Byron, Marilyn, Brandon, Stacey, AND Quintin all came to the hospital to wait. Brandon, Stacey, and Marilyn had the good sense to go home and sleep instead of crashing in the hospital waiting room. Quintin went back and slept at our house (I think), but he was too afraid of me to turn on the air conditioning. Apparently, I was sort of scary 9 months pregnant.

We had four nurses: the best nurse ever, the worst nurse ever, a nurse I don't remember, and the best nurse ever all over again. We loved our nurse Gracie so much we almost named Caroline after her.

We were so unprepared. We checked into the hospital and they wanted to know our pediatrician's name and whether or not we planned to circumcise the baby. Somehow, I'd been under the impression those decisions could wait. I had a list of pediatrician recommendations somewhere that Rosalyn had sent me, but I couldn't find it anywhere in my hospital bag. (It was there. I found it when we checked out a few days later.) I must have been really flustered; Gracie had pity on me and just filled in her kids' pediatrician.

It took 24 hours for him to finally enter the world entirely and another 5 for me to get to hold him. (Am I still upset about that? Yes, a little.) His head was all swollen and misshapen from his partial descent down the birth canal, and Josh was worried something was wrong with him. Having never seen a brand new baby right at birth before, he wasn't expecting his head to look like that. Josh made a very wise decision, though, and kept his thoughts to himself. He figured there was no reason to get me all worried in my current state. (Good choice.) He also thought the baby (no name yet) looked a lot like Quintin. He still does, although I see a lot of his uncle Brandon in his face when he's feeling silly.

He immediately convinced all three grandmas to love him more than anything.

By one year, he had two whole teeth.

By two, he was already starting to sing recognizable songs.

By three, he was not yet potty trained, but he was making the biggest mess of his life.

By four, he had already moved five times. I'm also including two pictures from May 2012 because he was so dang adorable as a four-year-old. That was the year Laser Man was born and the monkey blanket became a cape (only to be semi-retired a full five years later).

By five, his hair was starting to turn brown, but he still hadn't given up the cape.

By six, he was a big brother again and had finally come around to the idea of nuts on his Texas sheet cake.

By seven, he'd decided to grow his hair out. (It didn't last long.)

By eight, he was ordering full-sized hamburgers off restaurant menus and finishing the entire thing.

By nine, he had mellowed out into the kid we recognize today.

What does ten have in store? It's anyone's guess. He still plays the piano, but he very rarely wears the cape. He still loves his sisters, but they spend more time reading and making up plays together than playing with cars or jumping on beds. The thing he's most excited about tomorrow is going to get snow cones and going to the park. When people ask him what he wants for his birthday, he just shrugs and says he doesn't really need anything. When pressed, he'll admit that he does love books and that he likes useful gifts the best.

Josh builds a lot of things.

So it's been six months since we moved into this house. Hurray! In that time, Josh (with some help from Byron, me, and all three children) has built:

Bunk beds for the girls and a loft bed for the boy:

A chicken coop big enough for a flock of 20+:

A bookcase/shelving unit for our kitchen remodel:

A pasture fence:

A raised bed for my lovely garden:

And a milking stand for mama goat:

I feel like we're living at Lowe's these days, and I've learned how to use all kinds of new tools. If I never have to see a spool of fencing, I won't be disappointed. That said, we're incredibly proud of all our lovely creations and are loving having a home to build things in.