Violet's Birth Story

When Violet turned one a month ago I meant to post her birth story, which I wrote just about a year ago.  But life happened and I never did.  So I'm doing it now.  Parts have been redacted because they may not be for young or male ears.  It is long but I make no apologies.  It is for Violet.

When I suspected I was pregnant with Violet, I was in disbelief.

But this seems to be how we roll...surprise!  We’re pregnant again.

I was not thrilled.  It was so unexpected.  Five seemed to be our number.  Six seems so out there, so many kids.  We would need a larger vehicle.  We are filling up our four bedroom house now...I would be 37 when the baby was born.  Not to mention the nausea, vein problems, weight gain, and the fact that I had a job now and would have to break it to my boss that I was pregnant and thus wouldn’t be a very good assistant in approximately 8 months.  It was all overwhelming.

We made it until I was at about week 11 before we told the kids.  I was just so sick and tired.  I was going to be early every single night and the children were bringing me “Get well soon” notes.  The kids were happy.  Libby’s reaction was the best.  A quiet, almost tearful joy.  But reserved, as the first thing she said was, “I thought Mom didn’t want any more kids.”  She was afraid I wasn’t happy.  It was sweet.

It took me seriously until about week 17 before I accepted the fact that I was having a baby.  I really thought it wasn’t happening.  That I would lose the baby.  I just felt detached.  Maybe it was because it had been so long.  My baby had just turned three.  I had gotten rid of all my baby stuff.  I was moving on.  I felt like I was going backwards in a way.

Between 16 and 18 weeks I found out my alpha-fetal protein levels came back abnormal.  I had tested at a higher risk for having a baby with downs syndrome, or possibly another chromosomal abnormality.  After a few weeks, during which I had an ultrasound and blood tests run, it was determined everything was totally normal.  This was hard.  I felt like I was in limbo and didn’t know what the future held.  It was strange.  I felt the fear of the unknown.  God spoke to me the Psalm that says, “When I am afraid, I will trust in You, in God whose word I praise, in God I trust.”  

The summer was full of swimming next door in our neighbors pool, in attempts to help my circulation.  I tried to swim, to burn some calories, because the weight gain was plentiful.  I felt jealous when I watched my kids jump in the pool.  I wanted to be able to have fun like that.  Instead I felt huge and uncomfortable.

The vein issues forced me to bed every night early to elevate my feet.  I had no other choice.  Looking back I can see how slowly I became more and more withdrawn and unhappy because of the state of my body physically.  It was impossible for me to feel happy when I felt physically undone.

When I got to the end, I was retaining fluid and if I was up on my feet all day, by about 4 p.m. I was really exhausted and my legs just felt tight and huge.  My lower legs began to get red and splotchy.  I was unable to squat and bend all the way at the knees without feeling like something would explode.

All this is a very long way to say that me and pregnancy were not getting along any more.  We used to be best friends, but now it was as if we were enemies forced to be roommates.  Or maybe like inmates where one (the pregnancy) beats the other (me) up.

But it all would come to an end.  And I was hopeful I could go out on a high note.  That I would have an easy natural delivery without any labor inducing drugs or the need of an epidural.

I wasn’t expecting to go early.  None of my kids had come early, except one.  But as I got closer I hoped for it.  I was so miserable, I wanted to get a week or two off for good behavior, as my OB put it.

A week before my due date I was 3 centimeters and 50 percent effaced.  I’d had some good contractions.  It was Thursday, and my doctor was on call that Saturday.  He joked that it would be a great time to come in and have the baby.

But nothing happened.  I hoped for it.  I would have some good contractions at night when I was resting, but nothing would materialize.  Nearly a week later, the next Wednesday, September 24th, I had some real good contractions that lasted until nearly 3 a.m.  I was hopeful.  My mom and dad decided to go ahead and come to stay.  Thursday came again.  I went back to the OB.  He checked again.  I was nearly 4.  He stripped my membranes.  It hurt so bad I yelped.  I was embarrassed for screaming.  He had caught me off guard.  I hadn’t expected it to hurt like that.  It was about 2 p.m.

I went home.  I walked as much as I could that afternoon and evening.  I had a lot of contractions.  By about 9 p.m. I was ready to put my feet up.  I really thought I was going into labor.  But the contractions, which at first were coming every 6 minutes, by 11 p.m. died down and I went to bed.  I had a few more in the night, but I knew it wasn’t what it takes to get a baby out.

Then, for days, nothing.  It was as if my body had settled in to being pregnant.  Tuesday came.  I was back at the OB.  Standing at the front of the office to sign in, I read the large calendar.  It was September 30th.  I realized in that moment that I had made it.  That unless something crazy happened, my baby would be born in October.  This would mean that all my kids would have a different birthday month.  I had another ultrasound to make sure the baby and my fluid looked good and that there was no need to get her out.  She passed all tests.  I saw the Dr.  He stripped my membranes again.  We decided on induction Friday if needed.  I would be over a week late by then.  I stopped by the scheduling desk.  They told me I would have to come in on Friday, somewhere between 4 and 7 in the morning; whenever they had a bed available.  I was not enjoying the fact that I was having to do this.

When I got back from the doctor visit, I was determined to keep the contractions going.  I knew that stripping my membranes would get some of the hormone going that causes contractions.  I walked.  I took a very short nap.  I walked some more.  Jimmy and I left the kids with my parents and went out to dinner.  Then we walked around a couple stores.  We had to drop off a saw at a friend’s house.  On the way there, it occurred to me I should ask people to pray for me.  So I texted everyone in my contacts that I thought would lift me up in prayer, specifically that I would not have to be induced Friday; that I would go on my own before then.

When we got home from the date we walked some more, around the neighborhood.  I put my feet up at about 8:45.  I was exhausted.  But I was still having contractions.  At about 9:15, after watching the clock, I could see that my contractions were becoming less frequent and they felt less painful.  I had a moment of realization.  I could get back up, walk some more, and even though it would be hard, it would make the contractions harder.

So I made myself get up.  I remember having a mental picture of myself in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV of the evil pitocin, blanket up to my chin with chills because of an epidural, and I thought about how much I did NOT want that to be my birth experience this time.  I wanted to push this baby out naturally on MY terms.  I got out of bed and started to walk.

At first I just did some chores, making sure I stayed on my feet.  Then I began to walk around the circle that exists inside our home, living room, front room, entry, kitchen, hall, over and over.  My dad was getting ready for bed.  I said to him, “I’m in protest.  I am not going to eat or sleep until I push this baby out.”  I don’t think he believed me.  I don’t know if I believed me.  But it ended up being true.

I walked for about an hour and a half but I could do it any more.  I was starting to swell up and my legs were getting really tired.  I laid down for about 30 minutes.  But I was determined.  I got up again.  I put on some headphones and listened to music and just walked the circle again and again.

By about 12:30 a.m. though, I decided I couldn’t do this all night.  I decided to go to bed.  So at 12:45 I laid down.  Contractions were coming, though, but not real close together.

Now everyone was asleep.  But I couldn’t sleep.  Not because I was in labor, but just because I was all done sleeping as a pregnant person.  I had been restless for about a month already.  

At about 2:15, with contractions still coming, I decided to get up and walk again.  I figured I could really speed this process up if I could just make myself walk a little more.  I knew the contractions were way more effective if I was on my feet.

I walked for 30 minutes, loud music in my earphones, using the length of songs to time the distance between contractions.  I was surprised to learn they were coming strong, every 3-4 minutes.  I decided to lie down at 2:45.  I knew that if they kept coming that close together even while I was resting, that I was probably actually in labor and that there may be no turning back.

They kept coming.  So at 3:15 I nudged Jimmy and told him that I wasn’t positive, but that we’d probably be heading the the hospital soon and he might want to get up and be coherent.  I started to get things packed up.  I put on my jeans, I got the camera and computer packed up, we woke up my mom.  When they continued to come strong every 3-4 minutes my mom and Jimmy wanted to get me there.

We left at about 3:50.  I told them that if I was anything less than 5 cm dilated that I wanted an epidural.  We argued about which way to drive to the hospital.  I pleaded with Jimmy to go slow on any bumps.  

We got there about 4.  Jimmy dropped me and my mom off at the door.  He would park the car and be right behind us.  In the elevator, I told my mom that the ladies at the triage desk would be real complacent and to not yell at them or anything.  Not that my mom ever would.  I was right.  When we walked up to the desk we had to stand there for quite a few seconds.  She finally acknowledged us and said, “why are you here?”  And I said, “Um, I’m in labor.” To which she replied, “Okay, let me finish processing this newborn paperwork and I’ll be right with you.”  I blame this on all the ladies who come into the hospital when they are NOT in labor but think they are.  Shame on you.  All of you.  At this point I have no patience for women with a low pain threshold.  Anyway, I had to fill out paperwork.  They had contacted me and told me I needed to do this, but I didn’t know I’d need to do it while in labor.  I had to walk away from the desk a few times during contractions; the pain being so bad I couldn’t stand still.

Eventually I made it back to a bed in triage.  I got out my free pass to call Dr. Brickler and not whoever was on call.  I made a comment to my nurses that it was kind of quiet tonight.  She quickly came back, "Girl, shut your mouth!" It was pretty funny.  I told her that when I get to seven I go quick, so we shouldn’t fool around.  After a few minutes she checked me and I was seven.  I knew it was go time.  An interesting thing happened too, when she checked me.  It was weird.  I smelled the smell of childbirth.  It was startling. It all became real at that moment.  I knew that soon I’d be pushing my baby out and I’d smell it again.

So I got back to the L&D room at about 5 a.m.  I walked around a little bit.  I used the bathroom.  I wanted to take a few more contractions standing up because I knew that once I laid down, I wouldn’t get back up.  Right after I got into the bed Dr. Brickler came in.  He'd been up since 4 something and had already been jogging.  This is who you want delivering your baby.  He checked me again.  I was 8-9.  He asked me if i wanted to go ahead and start pushing and just get the baby out.  I was feeling a small urge to push at the peak of my contractions, so I said sure.  He went to gown up.

He came back at 5:15.  I was wanting to push.  He had wanted to break my water but I asked him to wait.  I was getting such a good break between contractions that I was afraid to change anything.  He agreed to wait.

I started to push.  The nurse asked him to let her know when to call the baby nurse.  He nodded.  I think I actually thought I would only have to push once or twice.  After a few minutes I could tell I had some work to do.  I would wait for the contraction.  The crazy thing was, my contractions were still 3-4 minutes apart!  So there were a few times in between where we were all twiddling our thumbs, so to speak.  It was kind of awkward.  But things started to happen.  I was moving the baby down.  I would get frustrated when my pushing for that contraction was over and I knew I had to do it again.  I wanted to be done very badly.  Dr. Brickler did break my water after about 20 minutes or so of pushing.  I felt a little bit of relief.  I think things moved down a bit.  

When I pushed once and I heard my doctor say, “Okay, call them” I knew I was about to push the baby out.  I bore down really hard and the head was out.  I asked “Now what do I do?” and he said, “Relax.”  And I did.  For a few seconds.  Then I pushed a little more and I heard my doctor say, “Reach down here!”  And I said, “NO!” (gross!) but he insisted, “reach down here and deliver your baby!” and I did and pulled her little legs out and dragged her up on to my chest, smelling that delivery smell and talking to her and feeling SO much better.  

You are almost in disbelief that you’ve done it, and mostly I am in disbelief at how amazing God is and how generous and gracious He is to have given me a perfect human being.  She was so big!  And beautiful and wonderful.

My mom had been rubbing my forehead and saying encouraging things to me.  Jimmy too of course, but I remember mom rubbing my forehead because just the day before Juliet had not been feeling well and I held her on the couch and rubbed her forehead in exactly the same way in an attempt to make her feel better.  I told mom how much I enjoyed that- especially because I had done it to my own child just the day before.

And then, you are post partem.  And though it is an ending to pregnancy, it is a beginning of something else.  The immediate post partem is not super fun, but it is waning...I am nearly three weeks out as I type this.  I still feel some of the physical challenges and still don’t want to bend over, even though I can much more easily.  I am desperate to lose my weight, but not so desperate to do anything desperate.  I’m feeling like a breastfeeding machine and am enjoying every minute my baby sleeps on me, because I know it doesn’t last nearly long enough.

I love you baby Violet!  You are my last birth story and you are wonderful.

Costumes 2015

The Alley house is currently being rented this weekend so we are in Brandon, FL for Halloween.  We have already enjoyed First Baptist's Fall Festival and we will go to Calvary Chapel Brandon this evening.  It is nice to already have the photo session over with- now, if their costumes get messed up at least we have captured it all for posterity.

 Here they all are.  Jackson decided not to dress up, but I had him put on the George Bush mask so he could be in our photo.  Violet is scared of George Bush.

 Juliet is Rainbow Dash.  This is the second time we've had a Rainbow Dash in the mix.

 Penelope is a bird.  She wanted to be a peacock, but we both had a pretty difficult time with the fact that peacocks are male birds.  So she's just a bird.  She's my bird.

 Cash has rocked his Hulk costume hard this year.  Has been wearing it around the house for over a week.  I didn't know the Hulk had a sensitive side, but you can see here his rage stopped long enough for him to kiss his muscles.

Libby is a baker and Violet is a cupcake.  It is fun and fitting for these two to have costumes that go together.  They love each other.  

Candy! Costumes!  Fun.

So, a mom walks into a bar...

A couple weeks ago something wonderful happened.  Jimmy and I went out on a double date with our very best of friends, Spencer and Carey Mitchell.  And we didn't have babysitters.  We left our very capable teenagers in charge of their siblings and we went out. 

Let's just pause for a moment to relish in the significance of this unprecedented event.



(Still relishing...)

Okay.  Moving on.  It really was a wonderful thing.  We went to an arcade/bar in Midtown (where Jimmy and I dominated in a couple vs. couple Foosball game and then Carey schooled me in Ms. PacMan) and then out for shakes and fries at a burger joint.

Without children.  Without paying money for a babysitter (we pay ours in room, board, and screen time).  It was a super fun night.

Jimmy mentioned it again this week, how it was as if we'd "arrived".  For you see, ever since little Jackson popped out 14 years ago we have been practically prisoners in our own home.  But no more.  Jimmy said how he'd like to go back to the arcade.  How it was fun and how he felt like an adult. (Usually we are regulated to kids night and places with a playground.)

Even though I had a wonderful evening and look back at it with lots of fondness, I replied, "I don't really want to go back there right away."

Jimmy said, "Why not?"

And I realized. Going to a bar/arcade wasn't much of an escape.  At a bar/arcade it's loud.  And there's no where to sit.  And you have to yell to be heard.  And it's not really very clean.  And it's loud.  Did I mention it was loud? Do you see the parallels?  At my house I never sit down.  I'm in a room full of loud people who play games (and drink/eat a lot) and I have to yell to be heard.  And it's really dirty.  You never know what you might find in the bathroom, or really, you might find dirty underwear just lying in the middle of the kitchen floor.  Why would I want to go to an arcade with a bar to escape my normal life?  I live in a bar!

But just as I wouldn't trade our night out with our best friends for anything, I wouldn't give up my every day life no matter how crazy, loud, and dirty it is.  My whole life is a night on the town.

And there is one more parallel.  I told Jimmy, "I liked the milkshake part of the date.  When it was quiet and we could talk and relax."  Because this is me every night when I shut down the arcade, go into my room and close the door, and eat ice cream in the peace and quiet.

I should leave a "tip jar" on the kitchen island or charge quarters to open the game cabinet.  Or maybe I'm taking this metaphor a little too far...

Our Trip! Part Four

This post contributed by Cash Alley.

When we left Niagara falls we went to Rochester Hills, MI to see our friends the Bateys.
The first thing we did was eat pizza it was amazing.
Then we watched a movie called Alvin and the Chipmunks 2 and went to bed.
In the morning we ate bagels and went to a cross country meet for their son Cole.
After that we went home and ate lunch.
Then we picked apples and berries. This was probably the best part of the trip.
We picked a lot of macintosh apples.
And there were raspberries and blackberries.
When we finished apple picking we ate donuts!



                                                And here are the pictures................

Our Trip! Part Three

The following is an interview with myself (Julie) and Penelope (age 7) about the third leg of our trip, our time in Niagara Falls.

Mom:  Tell me about the first thing you saw when we got to Canada.
Penelope:  The toll bridge when Cash had to use all his money.

Mom:  Why did Cash have to use his money?
Penelope:  Because Mom and Dad didn't have any at that time.

Mom: Do you remember how much to cost to cross the bridge into Canada?
Penelope: $13, right?

Mom: No, that's not right.  We're going to move on. Where did we stay in Niagara Falls?
Penelope:  In a hotel.

Mom:  Did you enjoy your stay in the hotel?
Penelope:  OH YEAH!!

Mom: Could you expand on that please?
Penelope:  I had a lot of fun because I liked going to the pool and I liked that we had a big hotel room.

Mom:  Do you remember the first time we saw the falls?
Penelope: Yes.

Mom:  What was going through your head when you saw them?
Penelope: It was cool.  (Takes off her clothes and says, "OH these pants are so sweaty!")

Mom:  What was your favorite view of the falls?
Penelope:  I like the boat.

Mom:  Could your describe your experience on the boat?
Penelope:  It was very cool because we...it was awesome because it was very cool because....because...(giggling...) It was very cool because, um... (laughing...) because we got free ponchos and we got to ride on this boat and we got like 15 feet close to Niagara Falls.  It was cool because I found my own loonie.  It wasn't really a loonie, it was 10 cents.  Overall I found 35 cents because I found one 10 cents and one 25 cents.  I found my own coin under the falls.

Mom:  Moving on...What is "the strip?"
Penelope:  OH the Strip!  The Strip!  We call it the strip except without the "p".  It was the coolest at nighttime because all the lights were on.  It was so cool, it was like the best thing about going to Canada.  Oooooh.  Nailed it!

Mom:  Could you try to use to use an adjective besides cool?
Penelope: Good!  (laughing.) Sorry.  It was amazing.  And good.  And cool.  And it was way colder than it is in Tallahassee.  It was like boom!  I love the air!  I love the air SOOOOOOO much.

Mom:  (silence)
Penelope:  Ask me another question!  Hey, you're writing stuff I didn't say!  Stop writing stuff I didn't say!

Mom:  Okay, could you please think very hard and tell me one more thing you experienced at Niagara Falls that you will remember forever?
Penelope: OH! My pencil thingy!  I bought a pencil thingy and then I bought some gum.

Mom: Is there anything else you would like to tell me?
Penelope:  I didn't like it that much because it wasn't in the United States but I loved it still.  THEEEEE ENNNND.

Our Trip! Part Two

This post contributed by Jackson Alley. Edited by Jimmy Alley

The third stop on our trip that we made was Piqua, Ohio. We stayed at Chad Spruance's house for a couple of days. Chad is my dad's cousin and when I say house, well I probably should say mansion. This house was so big you can get lost in it. It reminded me of the Addams Family mansion with all of its tall ceilings and infinite amount of rooms.

Me and Cousin Chad

Aunt Mary and Violet

While staying in this natural creepy mansion, we did a lot of fun things in Piqua. One thing we did was visiting this new library that used to be an old hotel. They kept most of the original architecture on the inside and outside of the hotel, and it was super cool. Another thing we did was we went to the US Air Force Museum in Dayton, Ohio. This was fun, for the first hour. It got pretty boring and tiring for me and my siblings towards the end. But this part of our trip was my favorite because of the weather and beauty of small-town Ohio.

                                                             My Dad and his cousins!

Another stop we made was Cleveland, Ohio to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. This was awesome!! One of my favorite parts was seeing this really cool prop used by Metallica during their ''And Justice For All'' tour. Overall we saw a lot of cool stuff and it was a lot of fun.

Our Trip! Part One

This post contributed by Libby Alley.

Our first stop was the Phillip's house, south of Nashville, TN.  When we got to the Phillip's they gave us a tour of their house. We got to meet their dog, Toto. The girls slept in the same room and the boys slept in another room.

After we woke up the next morning Mrs. Stacy had made us a delicious french toast cassorole.(it tastes as good as it sounds.) We played "Just Dance" with them on the TV after breakfast. After that, we decided to walk to their neighborhood pool and swim. It was very big, but it was also very cold. after we got used to it, we had a lot of fun! When we were done swimming,we went to the park next to the pool. There was a rock wall, swings, slides, and lots other fun things. Then we got some bread from our car and walked to the lake close to their house and fed the fish and the turtles. There was a big fish who every one in awhile popped out of the water and grabbed a piece of bread and when back down again. It was fun to watch him.

After that we went for a walk in a civil war battlefield for about 30 minutes to an hour, then we went home. The parents went to downtown Franklin and ate at Chili's and the kids ate chilli and watched a movie while Jackson babysat us. Then we went to leave the next morning.

The next day for lunch we stopped in Louisville, KY at Ms. Darcy, Madeliene, Nena, and Eloise's house.  We ate yummy sandwiches for lunch and played for a few hours.  We had a blast!

Yearly Update: 13, 11, 9, 7, 4, and 11 months

It's time again for our yearly update!  I wanted to get a shot of all six of them together looking their best, but that requires people not being in their pajamas and hair brushing and face wiping, and on top of all that remembering to take a picture of them when they might be put together as above, and that just hasn't happened in the last month.  But we are leaving on a big trip tomorrow and I want to post this before then.  So the pool photo is it.  And here they all are...

Jackson, 13 years...
Jackson is in 8th grade.  He's into music, friends, guitar, computer coding, reading, tv, youth group, and planning his financial future.  Jackson babysits for us a ton, masterfully motivating the kids to do their chores using the age old tactic of bribery (food and television as rewards).  He is always coming to me with dreams and ideas and his take on how certain things are going to turn out.  Jackson is slowly becoming more disciplined and has really gotten on board with home school.  (It only took 9 years, Jackson...)  I have enjoyed helping him with his Algebra so far this year.  Jackson is a pretty cool big brother, and will always be our number one.  He has been our buddy for a long time.  Jackson's head shot is a silly face (Uncle Rico) because I was doing head shots for our church and decided to do the kids at the same time...he helped me test the lighting but when I was actually ready to shoot them, he was off socializing.  Typical!



Libby, 11 years...
Libby is in 6th grade.  She's into drawing, reading, and creating.  She's doing piano and gymnastics. She also loves to help me.  It is wonderful to have a helper.  When someone comes and asks you if they can put their little sisters to bed, asks if they can read to the baby, the answer is a resounding, "yes!"  I don't feel bad at all, having her help with my mothering.  Because when I was 11, all I wanted to do was take care of babies and play with little kids.  Libby is a wonderful daughter and sibling.  She takes things to heart and we all love her very much!


Cash, 9 years...
Cash is in 4th grade.  My big smooshy marshmallow has turned into a smooshy boy who wears glasses and likes to read.  Cash never misses a thing.  He likes to sit right next to Jimmy at the dinner table, and will sometimes plant himself there at 4:30, intending to keep his bottom there until dinner begins.  (Which, let's be honest, in our case isn't that long...but he is usually forced to get up and do chores.)  He and Jimmy enjoy playing computer games together, and he loves music.  He and Jackson sleep with the radio on.  Cash is taking piano and playing flag football with his buddies, friends who moved down the street this past spring.  Cash is fun to be around, and is not afraid to speak up and contribute to any and all conversations.  We love you, Cash.
 
Penelope, 7 years...
Penelope is in second grade.  She is still toothless in the front, and we all remark about how weird it will be when she finally gets teeth.  Penelope is regularly seen rollerblading in the house wearing only her underwear, and other such antics.  Penelope is taking gymnastics and swims like a mermaid, going way down deep with her hair flowing behind.  Penelope is just a lot of fun.  She is a leader to Juliet and looks out for her sister with a deep love.  She still loves all things My Little Pony.  Every night I receive multiple kisses from her all over my face. She is just plain awesome, that's all.


Juliet, 4 years...
Juliet has started PreK at a preschool down the street.  Libby helped me (with illustrations, of course) make her a bedtime and morning routine, and she willingly follows it; preparing her snack and getting dressed and brushing her teeth, etc.  Juliet refuels by playing, pretending, drawing, or coloring alone.  Lately she has begun writing, and will put the first letter only of each word.  She brings me wonderful letters that say Y A D B M (You are the best Mom) for example.  She often has marker smudges all over her hands.  Love that.  Juliet is so compliant, and I do not take this for granted.  I am so grateful that she takes things to heart.  Juliet has four outgoing older siblings, and she has somehow survived and found her own voice.  The other day I was helping her fold her laundry and I left her there, came back, and said "How can I help you Juliet?" and she said, "I can handle it, Mom."  And that's Juliet.


Violet, 11 months...
Baby Violet.  Violet is smothered with love every single day.  I have to fight my children to open her door when nap time is over.  We all want to be the one to get her up.  To see her smiling face and pick up her baby cuteness.  Really, I hope she survives.  She is rarely not being held by someone.  I am often telling the kids to leave her alone, let her crawl around, teach her to play on her own.  They just want to run to her at any little noise.  She loves music.  If you give her a beat, she dances to it.  Right now it's "Barbara Ann" by the Beach Boys.  She asks for it..."bah bah bah..." Violet is our baby.  Forever and always.  An angel straight from heaven.  She gives kisses and is ticklish.  How much more could anyone ask?  Nothing but sweetness.  We all love you, Violet!

And some bonus photos:  Juliet on the first day of preschool and Cash's Uncle Rico pose.

Mr. Nobody is Somebody Too

I use First Language Lessons (Susan Wise Bauer) in my home school.  One of the poems that I read to the children is called "Mr. Nobody."  It's about the fact that when something is broken, neglected, or left a mess, everyone always denies responsibility, leaving all the problems caused by "Mr. Nobody."  It's a comical poem, and it is fun to explain the poem to the kids and see their eyes light up when they understand this literary puzzle of sorts. 

They are smart, they know that there isn't really a man named Mr. Nobody living in our house breaking plates and leaving the door open.  They get the message that it's a messy endeavor, raising a family and living together with all the stuff and activities that life brings.

But today I've decided that I might believe in ghosts, or the supernatural, or whatever category of crazy belief Mr. Nobody would fall under.  Because I'm here to tell you, Mr. Nobody makes his mark in my house quite often.  It happened twice today.  Someone moved the toy shelf away from the wall.  Jimmy wanted to know who did it.  There was finger pointing.  Emphatic denials.  Someone was sent to their room.  More denials.  More finger pointing.  Turns out, it was Mr. Nobody.  Then later, at dinner, I had left part of a hamburger for Violet on the counter.  I went to get it and there was a bite out of it.  I asked everyone who ate it.  Every single person said it wasn't them.  No one could recall taking meat off the counter.  Eventually, someone pointed the finger at Mr. Nobody and he is mute and unable to defend himself, so...

Despite his moniker, I'm here to tell you, Mr. Nobody is Somebody too.

Mr. Nobody

by Anonymous

I know a funny little man,

    As quiet as a mouse,

Who does the mischief that is done

    In everybody’s house!

There’s no one ever sees his face,

    And yet we all agree

That every plate we break was cracked

    By Mr. Nobody.

’Tis he who always tears out books,

    Who leaves the door ajar,

He pulls the buttons from our shirts,

    And scatters pins afar;

That squeaking door will always squeak,

    For prithee, don’t you see,

We leave the oiling to be done

    By Mr. Nobody.

He puts damp wood upon the fire

   That kettles cannot boil;

His are the feet that bring in mud,

   And all the carpets soil.

The papers always are mislaid;

   Who had them last, but he?

There’s no one tosses them about

   But Mr. Nobody.

The finger marks upon the door

    By none of us are made;

We never leave the blinds unclosed,

    To let the curtains fade.

The ink we never spill;   the boots

    That lying round you see

Are not our boots,—they all belong

    To Mr. Nobody.

September One

Here we are, September first, in the year two thousand and fifteen. Whether we like it or not. Today baby Violet is eleven months old. When I get to this point of my baby's first year, I always think back to where I was one year ago. Pregnant. Hot. (Not in a sexy way.) Fat. Uncomfortable. Anticipating labor and having a newborn and all that entails. And like a blink, I'm past it. It happens to everyone with a baby. Yet the sting is real. You love every single day, and every day they get older brings more joy and adventure. But they grow without your consent and sometimes you can't keep up emotionally. 

I'm not crying myself to sleep or anything, but having the first year in front of you is like a promise you can't believe you've been granted. Having it nearly behind you leaves you feeling like that very promise ran at a much faster pace than you could ever keep up with and you want to beg it to slow down. And at the very same time you don't really want to go back--you feel grateful and blessed to have nearly made it through the first year with a healthy child. 

There, that's it. Even though I am still a month away from the first birthday, I've gotten my nostalgia and bittersweet musings out of my system. Today I have an eleven month old. And she continues to be a violet joy, a wonderful bundle of happiness that is the color of the bruises you bear as a parent. The joy with the pain, the laughing with the crying, the beauty in a dirty diaper. 

It's September One. I am content. 

Misc. Musings

"You're the older year old."  -Juliet, today.  In the bathtub.

I just closed my eyes and prayed that I could remember what it was that Juliet said that I didn't want to forget.  My life is filled with things I don't want to forget.  I want to hear things like bathtub conversations and sear them into my brain like a signet seal in wax.

But I'm laundering.  And cooking.  And *cleaning.  And this week is our last week of summer so we are all making sure we have all our books and a plan for school and I can feel my sanity slipping through my fingers.  I feel ashamed to be doing the one thing I beg my children no to do: complain.

If I had encountered a person like myself, six kids, starting her 9th year of home school (10, if you count pre-K) I would look at myself and think "She totally knows what she's doing."  But now, being that person, I can tell you with 100% certainty that I have NO idea what I'm doing and I'm just moving forward and praying that I don't make any huge mistakes and that my children learn enough to stave off the guilty conscience I fight to quiet so I can sleep at night.

You become numb to the pain.  Dealing with the noise, chaos, and mess of being together all day every day is like a prima ballerina on pointe.  Her toes may be bleeding and calloused, but she doesn't even feel it anymore.  In a good way.  The end result is shockingly beautiful.

Lately I've been trying to figure out how I became lazy and messy.  And I realized.  It's because my life is full of things I have to do.  So when I have the chance to let something wait until later, I usually do.  Because trying to stay on top of everything all the time is only possible if I don't sleep, don't eat, and spend 24 hours a day reminding my children to put away what they got out and clean up what they messed up.

And then there's the baby.  Such a wonderful picture of God's graciousness to His children.  Bringing everyone around such JOY.  But growing up and making me realize I'm almost done with babying.  I've been babying for nearly 14 years.  I love babying.  I want to baby forever.  I know life will go on.  But I've had a baby on my hip for a long time.  I love the feeling.  I am thankful for the babying.

I want to write more blogs.  I want to have time to craft a balanced essay of deep thoughts and humor and comedic blurbs about life as a mom of six.  But I feel like what used to be an ability to serve up steak has turned into leftover hamburger helper.  (Which is like fresh hamburger helper only super more gross.) I am afraid my brain has been fried by my iPhone.  That I have become a robot who charges her batteries by watching screens instead of eating good food or digesting God's Word.

And yet deep inside I believe the promise that "He who began a good work in you is faithful to complete it."  And somehow this continues to happen, despite myself.  I want to teach my children the truth, the right parts of life.  I know it's going to happen mostly by my example.  By my example in the mundane tasks of laundry and food prep.  I want to be an example of someone who knows I'm just a mist that vanishes.  I am, after all, the older year old around here.  Lord, help us all.

I love my kids so much it hurts inside.  I am truly looking forward to a wonderful home school year and a daily grind that brings us closer to each other and makes us more like Jesus.  Bring on the mess.  And may grace abound.

Bob's River Place

After the Fourth of July weekend we headed (all 20 of us) to Bob's River Place. It's a little over an hour from Waldo, on the Suwannee River. 

Bob is just a retired guy in his eighties who, over the years, has built up decks and wooden platforms on the river bank of his property and hanging rope swings off the huge live oaks from which you swing out into the river and let go. You pay to park and that's it. No lines, just people taking turns. Bob has no insurance (as the signs posted on his property attest) so you just swing at your own risk with no hope of a large settlement of you get hurt. 

It was really fun. Like a red neck water park, complete with karaoke you sing in your bathing suit between death defying rope swings called "the demon" to name one. 

My nephew Adam was in his element, swinging and dropping like crazy, the entire time we were there. 

Bob also had a canal of sorts that he dug out and pumped water through as a swimming hole that was shallow and non-moving like the river. (Log roll right over Violet's head.)

Here is little Penelope on the easiest swing. 

 There was also a high dive (on the left) or, you could climb up into a tree and jump off that. Cash is letting go in this picture. Lincoln and Jackson are climbing up behind him. 

Even though she couldn't swing on the ropes Juliet had a great time playing in the splash zone and floating down the river with me and her aunts. 

And speaking of dreaming... That night after we got home I had weird dreams about college students floating through the air on ropes and landing in the 

water. It was like when you are in a car accident and you keep living it over and over in your sleep. Weird. It didn't really hit me how dangerous it was until after we got home and my head hit the pillow. But a little risk was a great reward. We had an awesome fun day as a family. Thanks, Bob!

The Fourth of July

We headed down to Waldo for our annual big family get together the week of July 4th. So thankful for my sisters and their families and of course my parents for loving my six kids and embracing the chaos. 

Penelope was excited to see Pop Pop's chicks, which aren't so little anymore. But she still managed to hold one. 

Dad has built an amazing chicken coop complete with an automatic refilling water dispenser made out of a five gallon bucket and a toilet valve. Chickens have never had it so good. 

After asking on many previous visits, Juliet was allowed to make her mark on the upstairs bathroom shower curtain. 

This year was the first annual photo scavenger hunt at the Waldo flea market. One of the things on our extensive 65 item list (find as many things as you can in one hour) was incorrect grammar. I of course was delighted to find a use of unnecessary quotation marks. 

Of course when you're living the lake life there's lots of skiing. Sometimes it becomes so commonplace you suck your thumb. 

Here's me and Slim. Why must I always grimace like this instead of smiling? It's ridiculous. Stay behind the camera Julie Alley. 

Sunday we all filed in to church together and happily listened to Pop Pop give the children's sermon. It was about chicks and coveting. Not coveting rather. 

Juliet perfected the disc swing!

Aunt Susan and the girls watching one of the many ultimate frisbee games in the backyard. Ultimate!!

And someone enjoyed crawling all over the upstairs loft. 

Happy Fourth of July!!