how it happened with chocolate and waffles

Welcome to the sixth installment of the birth posts, and the third to take place a full year after the birth. The 1-year-old birth posts are now 50% of all birth posts. If there's ever another baby, I guess it can break the tie in one direction or the other.

July 2025
July is hot. And late in the summer. We generally have had babies much earlier in the summer to maximize my time at home from work before the new school year (and because pregnant Sharayah likes the heat even less than regular Sharayah [is non-pregnant Sharayah the regular one, or is pregnant Sharayah? She has now spent over four years pregnant, so it's hard to tell.]). You can't always choose these things precisely I suppose, so here we were in July with the due date approaching.

This might have partly (or wholly) taken place earlier than July, but Tobin was our hardest baby to name. His pregnancy name was Waffles (all of them had fun names that we used before they were born so we could avoid calling them "it" without revealing names), but we just couldn't get past that to a final real name.  Finally, when we were down to two names, and I was pretty much being outvoted by everyone in the house, I conceded and we selected Tobin on the condition that we would get a Toblerone chocolate bar on his birthday every year. Sometimes I call him Toblerone anyway, so it works out. 

Of course, every kid's name is proven to be the right name once you know them as that name for any amount of time, so he is Tobin and couldn't be anyone else. However, then final confirmation came several months after Tobin was born when we got new neighbors and they had a dog whose name was our other choice. They are always yelling that name in their yard, so it would have been pretty weird if we'd gone the other way.

So, now you understand the weird name of this post.

Anyway, back to business. It was July, and it was hot, and a baby was on the way. By now, we've gotten pretty good at this stuff (by which I obviously mean Sharayah has gotten good at it and I follow her around and do whatever she needs). We go to the bare minimum required midwife visits, we have very few questions, and we know what we need to have and do to be ready for the birth day. We were doing our second home birth with our favorite midwife, Jessica, and everything leading up to birth was pretty smooth.

July 18
Some time during the night (early morning), contractions started. By wake-up time for the kids, we were already far enough along that we thought it would be a morning baby. This was our first one without family help visiting (although David and Becky would of course have come over in an emergency), so while Sharayah was on labor duty, I was on double duty of helping her however I could and getting the kids fed and keeping them occupied. We had talked to them about it ahead of time, so the older ones understood that they'd be hanging out on their own for parts of the day until the baby came. They were all really good about it all morning, even little Aviyah who was barely two. Each time I came back to check on them, they were happily playing together.

Jessica arrived, Sharayah was her usual amazing trooper through contractions, and I settled into my usual role of comforting however I could (now with fun 30-second interruptions to go check on the other guys periodically). I think we did still have some of those moments of "are we progressing at all? are we getting any closer? is this going to be another quick one or take forever? how can we tell if we're almost there??", which I guess is funny given how many times we've done this, but honestly Sharayah is so good at birth, and I know what little I can do, for me it's not particularly scary or nerve-wracking anymore. Not to minimize what she goes through, it is still a herculean, exhausting effort, but I know what she's capable of by now. When we were very close, I put an episode of Octonauts on for the kids to try to buy a slightly larger gap between checks, and we waited, and in the right amount of time he was there. Around 10:45am, we had our own little Toblerone.

As always, the newborn stage is a sleepy blur. Sharayah is such a superhero that sometimes I feel like I'm barely needed (except I change all the diapers), although the more other kids we have, the more work it is on that side for me to keep all of them reasonably taken care of in some approximation of what Sharayah would normally do for them while she takes care of the baby and soaks up all the newborn time she can. Clearly the months just fly by and he is just part of the family. Our kids are so great with new babies (I guess we have a pro-baby culture here) so he is so loved. They always want to help him and hug him and hold him so much that he can barely get a minute to himself.

Tobin is such a happy fellow, and he loves his people and all their attention so much. He's only grumpy if he's sleepy, hungry, or left without anyone to play with (even all our baby-lovers sometimes want to go be big kids sometimes), and aren't we all grumpy in those situations? Now that he's walking around, he's an unstoppable force of playing, tackling, yelling (usually happily), and eating everything he can find. He's such a big part of our family. I never would have believed that I'd want or have 6 kids before we started, but you cannot take my Tobin away, so deal with it.

Sharayah has already made her post of 52 pictures for his 52 weeks, so do yourself a favor and stare at those for a while. Pro tip: click on the collages and zoom all the way in to see lots of baby goodness. A sample:

Dear Tobin,
Happy birthday twice. You are such a silly, happy, necessary part of our lives. Do you make me tired? I don't remember the time before tired, so who can even tell? You add so much love to our house in all directions. After a year, we still can't tell who you look like, because you seem to be a perfect little mixture of all your brothers and a little extra just for yourself. I love being your Dadadadadadada every day, even when I'm grumpy. I can't wait to keep watching you grow into who you're going to be.
Love,
Dad

my tiny toblerone

Even the sixth time around, the first year flies by incredibly fast. How has Tobin been with us for so long and yet it feels like he just got here? This baby has left his grubby little fingerprints all over our home and hearts for a full year and we still can't get enough of him. 

His toddling is classic and unstoppable. His love of eating and throwing food is unmatched. When he wants to cuddle with you, he tucks his arms in front of himself and then snuggles into you with his whole head and body. His hair is getting longer but is still relatively sparse in places. He has eight teeth and one adorable dimple. He does an enthusiastic head waggle if he hears any music from anywhere and performs an impressive full booty squat routine if he really enjoys the beat. He just recently discovered a way to express rage, balling up his two little fists and shrieking as hard as he can muster for two seconds, and it's laughably cute. He refuses to say mama and squeakily says dada on repeat, of course. 

He is the most cheerful of babies and we love the stuffing out of him. 

Oh my Tobin August, 

You are such a beautiful little soul. You bring so much energy and joy to our home. Thank you for sleeping well, eating my nose with your open mouth kisses, and having such a cheerful take on life. Your dimpled grin will forever get you extra blueberries. You are absolutely adored and one of my favorite humans on this planet. I love you, Toblerone. 

Happy very first birthday!

Mama

stardate 26424.11

Life happenings lately: 

• Lucas, Finley, and Sebi finished up their official school year last week. Last year we decided to start the school year in early July so we could get a couple of routine weeks in before Tobin arrived, just to help ease the transition, and these boys absolutely killed it. Their diligence and responsible attitudes were top notch, and they are pretty psyched to be done with their 36 weeks of scheduled work [though, as all good homeschoolers do, we will obviously continue with random bits of schooling throughout the summer to keep habits and expectations moving along]. So proud of these fellas! Other honorable mentions: Eli is reading more and more and Aviyah is happily along for the ride, even if her repeating every word Eli reads seriously detracts from the flow of his reading 😄
• Tobin holds the title of our longest co-sleeper, reigning in our bed for the first 6.5 months of his life. It was glorious. He transitioned to his own bed/room when he started getting too mobile and wiggly at night, wanting to roll on and off his belly instead of staying snuggled up on his side next to me, and now at 9 months old he just might be our best sleep baby. He still wakes up to nurse usually once a night, and every time Jason places him next to me, it's like my whole body just exhales and relaxes. If I were to go back in time and tell my 28- and 31-year-old self one thing, it would be to ignore the voices that had me thinking co-sleeping was the most irresponsible thing you could do with your baby [which caused so much anxiety and fear any time I accidentally fell asleep after a feeding with Lucas or Finley next to me] and instead listen to that deep down instinct of "this is how it should be." I'm not sure what changed with the arrival of Sebi, but finally realizing co-sleeping made all the things infant-hood better was an absolute game changer.
• Our trusty rice cooker of fifteen years decided it was ready to retire. My hunt for a larger capacity one turned up naught [Related: Why do rice cookers measure their capacity by their tiny, rice-specific "cups" instead of standard cups? I have issues with this.], so I am now cooking rice on the stove like a normal Asian. I do miss being able to just turn it on and not have to pay any attention to it until dinnertime, but besides that, rice is rice. And now I can cook five cups of dry rice at once and actually have some leftovers for fried rice, so... I'm going to say it's a net positive.
• The middle kids are absolutely obsessed with I Spy type books. I admit, I was a little disappointed and befuddled when 4-to-6-year-old Lucas and Finley didn't take a shine to this particular activity since I remember spending hours hunting for every last little thing on every page of these kinds of books when I was little. But all is right in the world now that I have a Sebi and an Eli and an Aviyah head down and on the hunt. 
• The garden has been planted and the glimpses of green are peeking up. The rabbits have already had their way with the lettuce, so Jason has fenced in the garden once again. The tree pollen has taken up residence in poor Finley's eyes. The hours outdoors are off to a grand start with 350 hours logged so far. 
• As always, we have a busy start to our "summer" [which, yes, we acknowledge starts waaay before actual seasonal summer is declared (courtesy of Jason's excellent professor-ing)].  Beginning next week, Aviyah will turn 3, Jason will finish his last week at work for the school year, Sebi will turn 7, Eli will turn 5, we head to Branson for a week, and then... we will surprise the kids by, instead of heading home from Branson, driving straight down to Galveston, Texas, to meet up with Jason's parents and hop onto a cruise ship for a week. It has been challenging keeping this surprise under wraps, especially in the past few weeks as we've been figuring out all the logistics of packing. But it will be very fun to see their reaction to it all. [Sidenote: I think surprises for big kids are excellent because they finally get it - the unexpectedness, the excitement, and, to some extent, the big deal-ness of it all. With little kids on the other hand, you can "surprise" them with a second tangerine and they think it's the best day ever but you take them on a super fun outing and they are hilariously nonplussed.]
• Back in January, I put a calendar up on the wall in the kitchen. There was a specific reason for it, but I cannot remember what it was... But then, one day, I randomly wrote down the meal we had eaten for dinner that night on the calendar. And then I did it the next day. And the next day. And then we all started writing meals we wanted to have on future dates. And those days would come and I knew exactly what to make that night and could even plan for it beforehand and it was so helpful. I no longer had to dread the 4 o'clock, "What's for dinner tonight?" question because it was no longer an unknown I had to solve every single day. It has been so freeing and amazing, and I love that everyone can feel like they have a say in what's on the menu. We have a few rules [no repeat meals on consecutive days, I have the right to veto or call an audible on any meal on any day, the much requested meal of "Smoofins" can only be once a month, etc], but I cannot stress enough how much less stress there has been on me since offloading the meal planning to all the other humans in this house. 

So there you have it. A completely random, stream of consciousness, thrown together on a whim post of life happenings. I am refusing to read over it and edit it because it is Friday and I have a houseful of children needing my attention and 854 tabs open in my brain. But a blog post has been made. One more thing to check off my to-do list!

Life is good, guys, and it feels like it just keeps getting better ❤

functional fanciness

The end of October brought about the end of our microwave. It gave no warning or farewell; it simply died. I have always had mixed feelings about microwaves, stemming from having never had one until I was married, and about once a month I would consider, perhaps, just going back to that kind of life. They are a convenience for sure, but they only ever give you mediocre results. Save when warming up leftovers, when else do we ever consider sacrificing quality for instant gratification an acceptable habit? [Feel free to call this my ridiculous midlife crisis 😄]

So when our microwave passed on to that happy land where microwaves get to have all of their buttons used [ah, the sound of the rejoicing popcorn buttons is magnificent], I was more than a little interested in just possibly not replacing it. I quickly discovered all of the things I "needed" the microwave for in our normal day to day: heating water for dough making, melting butter for pancake making, and warming up leftovers. After the first few times of "whoops, forgot I needed to get that on the stove so I guess I'll have to wait a bit longer than expected," living the microwave-free life has felt 100% normal. Food tastes better warmed up in the oven. Butter melts more consistently on the stove. Honestly, the main drawback to not having the microwave? When I have a timer going on the stove, I don't know what time it is because I do not have the second clock from the microwave. 

Of course, while I had kitchen appliance shopping on the brain, I naturally thought of replacing our range. We've wanted a new stove for a while. And by "for a while" I mean "ever since we moved into this house ten years ago." The front burners on our stove are a bit wonky. And by wonky I mean that the left one cannot lower the heat enough to simmer and the right one can only heat on the highest temperature possible no matter where you set the dial. So for the past decade, any time I need to have two things cooking, I do a fancy Dance of the Pots, where I switch them back and forth and try not to let anything burn. The fact that this has seemed like a reasonable way to live should be the number one sign that you probably never want to eat over here.

Well, my search for the cheapest range I could find quickly morphed into a "ooh, this could be the moment to upgrade to a double oven!" search [this "one thing leads to another slightly different thing" in classic If You Give a Mouse a Cookie fashion is my specialty, by the way]. Do I need a double oven? Well, it's kinda like the "Do I need a microwave?" question. I probably do not need it, but it would make things a lot more convenient at times. The number of times I just stuff multiple dishes in at the same temperature, do some sketchy time math, and cross my fingers is... just a regular part of life at this point. The real question was, are we fancy enough to justify the ownership of a double oven? After just a couple days of sighing in exasperation at not being able to make a baked good because of something else already being in the oven, Jason came to the conclusion all on his own that a double oven would indeed be an excellent thing to have and that we were, in fact, fancy enough and adult enough to own one. We make an impeccable team.

Luckily [?], there were not a lot of options for double ovens in our price range, so the choosing of the oven did not take much overthinking [something that I love to do during a Big Purchase]. The purchasing and installing of the new range went without a hitch, and the removal and donation of the old one went just as smoothly [did you know there's a pretty high demand on Craigslist for old stoves?]. One thing that did surprise us is that the oven box would not fit in the back of our giant bus of a van. The box was too tall, so Jason had to rent one of Lowe's high-roof Transits all the while regretting our choice of a low-roof Transit [but no serious regrets because garage parking is sooo worth it]. 

So there you have it. We are fancy. I have absolutely loved having multiple functional burners and have made much use of them. I have also made near daily use of both ovens and it's been a game-changer. Have I ever put food in one oven but turned on the other oven? Only once - THAT'S NOT BAD, FOLKS. I continue to surprise myself with how on top of things I am. 😂

And you know what? I have not found myself wishing I had a microwave again. Jason might sometimes feel low levels of disgruntlement when he has to decide if he would rather eat something cold or wait fifteen minutes, but I have faith that one day he will spontaneously decide to remove the old microwave and turn it into some sort of practical shelf space. Perhaps with a clock. Who can say?

The Decrepit One

Out with the old

In with the new!

Bonus: Huge box/cave/house/rocketship/hiding place

my favorite Costco item

This will be a story that may seem quite silly or cheesy or overly dramatic to most, but to me it's a cool story of hope [and the eventual fulfillment of that hope] from the most unlikely of sources.

Last year, we knew we wanted to try for the sixth squishy addition to our family. With the last three being born within a week of the same time of year [April 26-May 2], making almost exactly two-year gaps between them, I had in my head that we would just continue to plan for something similar this time around as well. It is an excellent age gap as well as the perfect time of year to get to know a newcomer [what with Jason being home all summer to help out]. So, we mathed it out, gave some wiggle room on either side of our "ideal" time, and got the plan rolling [TMI?]. 

The plan refused to roll. Each month we were met with a "nope, not this month." And, I know it will sound absolutely ridiculous since I know I am only talking about 3-4 months of trying and that is barely any time for a lot of people, but with each month I felt more and more despairing [the ease and speed of all of our previous pregnancy attempts had clearly spoiled me]. Mid-October we got yet another definitive "not happening" and I remember thinking, welp, maybe it's just not meant to be. Maybe we should just quit trying. Maybe five is the number God has for us. And all of these thoughts made me feel unbelievably sad.

That morning we went to Costco. I was feeling blah and despondent. We did our shopping, checked out, and headed out to the car. Of course, Costco being Costco, we had to have our receipt marked by the employee at the exit. Since we almost always go to Costco at lunchtime on Saturdays [yet another way we like to introduce crazy in our life], we almost always see the same few employees checking receipts at the door. One particular woman makes it her mission to always draw a smiley face for each of our kids on the back of the receipt. Most of the time she says something along the lines of, "There are five, right? I don't want to leave anybody out."

This particular Saturday she didn't ask for a head count and just drew all the smiley faces and sent us on our way. As we walked out and I was showing the kids the receipt [they like to see who is who, though usually most of the faces are not all that different from one another...], I realized that she had accidentally drawn six smiley faces instead of five. And somehow, seeing a picture of what I was inwardly grieving [YES, I KNOW IT SOUNDS DRAMATIC], seeing a visual of what might be a future we wouldn't get to live... It somehow had the exact opposite effect on me from what I would have thought it would have.

I knew it was just a weird timing, completely coincidental mistake she had made [it is definitely true that once you have more than four of something, you generally feel the need to actually count], but even so... the joy and hope it brought me that day and the days to follow was huge [again, I know this sounds so silly]. I couldn't stop smiling. I hung the receipt on our fridge and it brought a feeling of peace every time I looked at it. 

Exactly four weeks later, we had our positive. Our little Half Dozen, who we have affectionately called Waffles, was on his/her way. 

Now, here I am, with a 36 week 3 days along little babe growing and kung-fu-ing and not-at-all-chilling inside of me right now. And the receipt remains on our fridge, all six little smiley faces looking at me each day, reminding me that hope can come from the most unexpected of places. 

Costco: the warehouse store for toilet paper, peanut butter, and baby announcements. Who knew?

God is good.

the spinach

One of the things I hate the most is food going to waste. It is a twofold problem [which is so much worse, twice as bad if you will, than a one-fold problem]: Not only are you just throwing money away, but you're also throwing away good foods. It drives me bonkers. And yet, it is a problem I find myself dealing with entirely too often. Sigh. 

The two most common culprits are potatoes and leftovers. Potatoes often get overlooked because our place for storing potatoes is... not particularly intuitive. Leftovers get passed by until it's too late because, with seven people, having enough of a certain leftover to make a meal for everyone is tricky. Usually a one person amount is left and then... forgotten. 

The classic "bought it and forgot it" item, however, is probably produce. Since produce is so expensive I really try to not let those lovely things go to waste. It still happens sometimes though, and that is when I get the most bothered and feel the most ashamed [which sounds silly, but humans are silly]. 

So, onto the spinach. 

I found a beautiful thing of spinach at Costco. It was probably $5 or $6, nothing outrageous but still considered a little splurge-y since it's not a regular staple purchase. And what made it a little more excessive is that I would really be the only one who wanted it. I am not a spinach person, but I do like it in scrambled eggs and tossing it into soups and onto pizzas. The trick to it not going bad before you can get through it is to freeze it. As long as you don't want to use the spinach for salads [ew], freezing it works beautifully.

Now, the best thing to do is freeze it immediately upon getting it home. And the worst thing to do is tell yourself, "I'll freeze it a little later." Obviously, if I did the best thing, I would not be writing about it. So yes, I did the worst thing. Day after day passed of me reminding myself that I needed to freeze the spinach and day after day passed of me telling myself I'd do it a little bit later. Before I knew it, a week and a half had passed, maybe two weeks. I knew then that my window of opportunity had passed, but when I looked in the fridge, the spinach still looked good. It was a Christmas miracle.

Knowing I had been gifted a wonderful second chance, I got right down to the task of bagging the spinach for freezing. But as soon as I had grabbed a handful of the seemingly still fresh spinach, I knew I had been deceived. Yes, somehow the very outer layer of spinach (around the ENTIRE container) had not succumbed to the soggy, smelly, old spinach state, but every leaf hidden inside had. My disgust was great, but the disappointment and shame at my irresponsibility was greater. I woefully tossed the entire thing in the trash and hoped the smell of it would not attract attention. 

And this is where things get silly. 

I didn't tell Jason I had had to toss the spinach. Now, it's pretty normal for people to not go broadcasting all the shameful things they do to others, but it's very much not normal for me to not spew all the things to Jason at his earliest convenience, shameful or otherwise. So clearly I was feeling extra bad about this spinach fiasco, but I pushed it and the slight feeling of deception about it out of my mind and went on with my life. 

You'd think that would be the end of the matter. The trash was eventually taken out. The spinach was gone forever. There were fresh new foods in the fridge to use up before they spoiled. Life happily chugged along. The spinach was no longer a problem. 

Except for the nightmares. 

It absolutely sounds like a joke, but over the next week and a half I had not one, not two, not three, but FOUR separate dreams where the spinach made an appearance and I had to keep shamefully throwing it out and deliberately choosing over and over to not tell Jason about it. It was absolutely ridiculous. 

So, after realizing how crazy my brain was going to be about all of this and how, at least subconsciously, guilty I must be feeling about not telling Jason about it, I immediately told him all the things. He laughed at me. And the dreams stopped. 

Goodbye, spinach. You will not be missed.

1000

The blog has been woefully neglected. This post is not an indication that the neglect will come to an end. This post is merely an attempt to show my annoying All or Nothing mentality who's boss. Also, it is to celebrate one of the kids' accomplishments this year. Thus, somehow, the small humans are simultaneously the reason I have neglected the blog and also the reason I am un-neglecting it for today. Kids are really something.

Today, November 15, 2024, the kids finished logging their 1000th hour of being outside for the year. Technically, they didn't start tracking their time outside until sometime in February, so I suppose technically they hit their 1000th hour some time ago... But still. At 11:45 am this morning, they officially logged their 1000th hour. Over 1000 hours outside of sunshine basking, puddle splashing, stick fighting, leaf collecting, bug watching, hole digging, mountain climbing, trap making, picnicking, rope swinging, banshee-yelling, frisbee throwing, cloud watching, dirt stomping, book reading, rock washing, seed planting, weed pulling, ball bouncing, bike riding, pine needle raking, muddy water scooping, childhood memory making fun. 

Over 287 days, these kids averaged 3.5 hours outside every day. They went out in the snow, the rain, the humidity, and the mosquitoes. Their record day was July 18th when they were outside for 10.5 hours. They had 87 days with 5 hours or more outside. They only had 32 days with 0 hours outside. They spent 152 hours outside in August (side effect of gorgeous summer evenings) but only 51 hours in June (side effect of being home for only 3 days the whole month). And yes, we kept a spreadsheet for all the fun facts.

It has been a great year.

It sounds dramatic, but taking on the 1000 hours outside challenge this year has brought so many amazing changes to our family. It has introduced so much freedom and independence and peace to our daily rhythm. It has created noticeably stronger bonds of friendship between each and every one of the kids. While it has helped develop resiliency in one, it has taught patience and selflessness to another and increased self-confidence to yet another. It has brought all of us so much joy and contentment.

I am so proud of these kids. 

Well done, guys. You are fantastic and impressive human beings. I love you to the moon!

💙💙💙💙💜

how it happened with a girl

Apparently the new tradition is that I make the new baby post on the first birthday and combine it with the one-picture-from-each-week-for-the-first-year post. So, here is Aviyah's "how it happened" and first birthday post.

We didn't tell anyone we were having a girl. On the one hand, Vermettes were 16 boys to 1 girl for the last 4 generations (which is as far back as anyone remembers). So, most people would assume we were having a boy. On the other hand, it was the first one where we decided to keep it a secret, so some would assume that was *because* we finally had a girl. Never mind that we planned to keep it a secret before we knew it was a girl.

December 2022
Sharayah went to her anatomy scan ultrasound. We figured we were having a boy, but we decided to do a fun reveal for the kids anyway. Sharayah got some red grapes (for girl) and blueberries (for boy) and put eleven of them under eleven cups. There would be five of one and six of the other. The winner was the baby's gender. As the boys picked cups, I was a little disappointed that it looked like some of the suspense would be lost: we were mostly picking blueberries. I thought there were six blueberries, and it looked like through bad luck we were going to pick all six way before we picked the five red grapes. I thought it would have been more fun if we got to five and five and only then did we find the sixth blueberry.

However, we started to get lucky. After blueberry number five, we kept getting grapes. They just kept coming, and suddenly we were down to the last cup. I thought that was that. I was happy we got to keep it suspenseful for the boys, but I thought I knew the last one was a blueberry. I was completely shocked to see the red grape show up. I think I had to ask Sharayah several times if it was right, if we were really having a girl. Then, the difficult secret keeping began.

April 23, 2023
My parents came to town again to help with the kids during baby week. It was the Sunday before final exam week at work for me. I had once again lined up back-up proctors for all of my exams in case the baby came early. We were on our way to one last zoo day before we'd become homebodies for a while with a new baby. When we were almost there, poor Eli seemed droopy and sad. He hadn't eaten his bagel breakfast. He threw up all over himself in his car seat. It was so sad. We were so close to the zoo, and we didn't want to disappoint the big kids, so we decided to try to go anyway and see if he felt better. We bought him a zoo shirt (his backup clothes in the diaper bag were too small because we never remember to update them), put him in the stroller, and tried to make the best of it. He didn't perk up much, but he made it through ok.

Sadly, at home he threw up several more times. Any hopes that he had just been carsick or something were dashed. He was a sick baby, right as we were preparing to have another baby. A very tough day and night.

April 24, 2023
I had to go to work since the baby wasn't coming yet. Eli had a better day, but still threw up once. The other boys still seemed fine. We were holding on and hoping everyone could be healthy by birthday. Due date was 5 days away. Still a tough night with Eli. Then Lucas threw up overnight. It was spreading.

April 25, 2023
Never mind. The other three boys were now throwing up and various amounts of sad and droopy. So many buckets strategically placed around the couch where they sat all day. Thankfully, Eli seemed a little better and wasn't throwing up today. We had some hope that it was maybe only a 2 or 3 day thing, at least the throwing up part.

April 26, 2023
All the boys were varying amounts of lethargic all day. Eli still seemed so forlorn and weak. My parents had been keeping their distance just to be sure they wouldn't catch anything and be unable to help on baby day, but they came over today. Oh, yeah, maybe you forgot, but this is the baby post, not the sick kid post. The due date was the 29th, but overnight Sharayah had begun to feel early signs of labor (we also finished the pre-baby puzzle, which is usually a big sign of baby time). No contractions, but she thought it might be the day. I used that plus the boys all still being droopy as an excuse to stay home since I only had office hours (no exams).

Not much happened on the baby front all day. The boys sat around and we tried to keep them happy. That evening, some of the boys seemed to be perking up a little. But near (early) bedtime, poor Eli was just lying on the floor of the living room and had an explosive diaper disaster. He was so upset and was just lying there. It was a horrible end to a day. It was not the lead up to baby day that we wanted.

Everyone was exhausted, but of course babies come when they're ready. After feeling vaguely labor-ish all day, Sharayah finally started feeling regular contractions around 6. Since the boys were worn out and sick anyway, I started getting them put to bed. Our normal bedtime routine is over an hour of getting pajamas on, brushing about a hundred teeth, reading books, singing songs, hugging, and going to sleep. It's a big job and a team effort. We had sent my parents back to their hotel to eat and rest up in case we needed to call in the middle of the night. Sharayah's contractions out of nowhere were ramping up too much for her to help. I rushed to get all the kids quickly to bed. I had them down near 7 and found Sharayah in the late stages telling me her water broke at about 7 while I was putting them down. Contractions had picked up into imminent-baby range as soon as her water broke. She was filling the tub with water. I started trying to help her through contractions and grab random stuff in between.

Our midwife, Jessica, arrived at about 7:15. Between contractions, I was still frantically gathering towels and I forget what else. At 7:20, Sharayah started pushing. She is so good at the baby part. Aviyah's shoulder briefly got stuck and I was so thankful Jessica was there in time. Aviyah joined us at 7:24. I had barely had time to do any of the various things I had planned to do to get ready during early labor. It all happened so crazy fast. Sharayah had gotten her quick baby, home birth, and girl all at once. (I finally believed we really had a girl.) I texted my parents to let them know all was good and they could sleep peacefully and come back in the morning. Jessica did all the new-baby-checking and we settled in to hold and stare at our new perfect #5. All the awfulness of the week seemed not to matter anymore. She was a perfect baby.

I can't tell you how much we did or didn't sleep that night or for the next week, but I know that newborn time was amazing as always. Sharayah likes to say she was/is a perfect baby/the best baby. At risk of offending the others (we love them all equally), she is the easiest at a lot of baby things. She is a happy potato. She's so sweet and easy-going. She loves her people so much. It's been an amazing year seeing her grow and learn and love her brothers, and seeing them grow and love her. All the boys love being a big brother to a little sister. They all show their love for her in their own ways.

52 photos for 52 weeks

Dear Aviyah,
Happy both birthdays! You've been such an amazing baby. We love how sweet and joyful you are. Watching your glee at watching your brothers is the best. You help our house be so full of love. I never knew how much I needed a daughter, but I know I wouldn't be me if I wasn't your dad. You make me feel a whole other set of feelings I didn't know about. I love you desperately, and being dad to you and your awesome brothers gives my life so much joy.
Love,
Dad

aviyah galore

If you are not a fan of a billion pictures of someone's child in a slightly different position with a slightly different expression on her face, this post is not for you. You have been warned.

Hello, Aviyah Brielle.

She is the sweetest little baby.

She is 10.5 weeks old. How has it been such a short amount of time and yet it feels like I've known her forever.

She weighs a little over 16 pounds. This puts her in the 99th percentile which is exactly on par with her brothers at this age.

She is 24 inches long, now officially tall enough to be marked on the kids' height chart.

She has an untameable puffy head of hair.

She is my most finicky baby to nurse so far, though clearly her mid-arm rolls and chunky cheeks are not suffering.

She might love me the most if her love is measured by who she smiles for the most. Her smiles take her from pretty adorable to absolutely irresistible.

She is by far our most chill baby. Full disclosure: I sometimes place her somewhere and... momentarily forget she's there. She will just chill quietly by herself. She is a very different type of baby from what I've become accustomed to the past 9 years.

She's not super into tummy time and working out her neck muscles. Don't get me wrong, she doesn't mind being placed on her belly. She just does not yet see the point of using that time to be productive.

I love her so much.

birth contemplations

We have reached the two-week countdown! This is literally my favorite time of pregnancy. Yes, I feel like a whale. Yes, I waddle like a whale-ish penguin. Yes, I grunt and huff and ugh my way through getting out of bed and squatting to pick up toys and straining to reach the faucet when I'm doing the dishes. BUT. It is still my favorite time of being pregnant.

Two weeks feels like nothing, especially when I consider the "one week left" time period to be "this is THE week" time period [regardless of its accuracy (I have a 50% accuracy rate currently)]. All of the icky parts of pregnancy are theoretically done [no more pesky symptoms, no more needles, no more "am I going to fail this test" anxiety fests, etc]. All I have left is the last bit of waiting and then it's Hello, Sweet Baby time. Gah, it's the best. Come on, labor, let's do this thing!

For the past couple of months, one of my wind-down for sleep activities [besides going over our very ignored to-do list] is mentally walking through all of my past labors and deliveries. It is simultaneously exciting and calming. Each of the boys has slid into this world in a very different and yet also similar way/time frame and I am hopeful that this will remain the pattern for the fifth round. If I had to choose an ideal replica birth, I'd say I would pick... a Finley delivery. He came fast, didn't allow me a lot of angry mutter time during labor, and was a born-in-the-tub baby. Five stars, would do again. 

The one thing I would not prefer about a Finley delivery is the fact that he was a day late. I know in the grand scheme of things, one day late is still crazily punctual [the mere fact that you can possibly predict within a few days when something will happen 280-ish days before it happens is just miraculous in itself], but it still seems a bit rude. Lucas was a due date baby, Finley was one day late, Sebastian was two days early, and Eli was two days late. So, all we need now is a one day early baby to complete the pattern. Do you hear me, Boo? IT WOULD BE SO SATISFYING. Please and thank you. We shall see. 

Another baby related tidbit that entertains me is thinking about how long I have been either pregnant or breastfeeding or both. It is mind boggling.

• 2013 - pregnant [only for an extremely tiny portion of the year, to be fair, but still counts]
• 2014 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2015 - breastfeeding
• 2016 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2017 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2018 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2019 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2020 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2021 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2022 - pregnant/breastfeeding
• 2023 - pregnant/soon-will-be-breastfeeding

I am somehow approaching almost four years of actively growing a baby inside of me and almost seven full years of nursing said babies. That is such a huge chunk of my life, but hands down it has been such an excellent use of my time. It has been ever so busy and exhausting but also ever so fulfilling and grand. Even though it also seems like downright craziness. I might need a new hobby soon.

Apparently 37-to-38-ish weeks is when everyone in our neighborhood all agreed that it was finally safe to assume I am indeed pregnant. The possibility that the size of my stomach was just the result of indulging in too many tacos was no longer reasonable, though one neighbor did actually ask, "Do you know if it's a boy taco or a girl taco?" So... maybe I'm somehow still leaving them in doubt. The sudden influx of questions from the neighbors is most likely also due to the fact that the warm weather has allowed me to break out all the summer clothes, which makes this belly o'mine undeniably obvious when we go on walks. 

Speaking of walks, I suppose it's time for another resolution progress report.

• Kitchen sinks/counters completely empty of dishes every night: ✔️ There was one incident of the instant pot being left to soak for two nights... but it was eventually remedied. Jason has been coming to my rescue on this one a lot recently at dinner any time I just do not want to stand hunched/stretched over the sink one more time. I need longer arms when I'm pregnant... 
• Read through the Bible this year: ✔️ I somehow fell behind four entire days over the Easter weekend 😬🤦🏻‍♀️😬🤦🏻‍♀️ I KNOW HOW TERRIBLE THAT SOUNDS. But it's all good now. I am well into 1 Samuel now and back on track. 
• Walk 200 miles [in the same socks (don't ask)] before the baby arrives: ✔️ I am pretty stoked about this one as I am so close to finishing. I have a mere 14 miles to go which, like the last two weeks of pregnancy, is nothing compared to the 186 miles already accomplished. 🎉
• Don't reach an all-time-high weight by the end of this pregnancy: 🤔 It's going to be close, guys. Real close. BUT that's not actually a bad thing! I did not think this was actually an attainable goal [due to starting weight] and honestly I'm just pleased that, at the very least, I'm going to land oh so close to my Eli pregnancy max weight [instead of continuing my five-pounds-heavier-than-the-last-pregnancy trend]. I usually weigh myself at 39 weeks and then just call it done, since I say anything goes food and exercise wise the final week 😄🤷🏻‍♀️
• Read 75 books: ✔️ I'm at 17 books for the year so far. Definitely still a doable goal, though I may need to do some shorter, more reasonable reads through the summer to prep for the end of the year. I only have one more 1200+ page book on the docket, so that should help immensely. 
• Blog more: ✔️ I think this one deserves a checkmark for sure. The real test will obviously be the second half of the year, but still. ✔️✔️✔️

Will this be the last blog post before Boo arrives? 😬🤞🏼🎉 

[don't judge the September 2019 calendar that I'm using to track my miles in April 2023- THERE'S A REASON]