The Boy Who Birthed a Blog

In December 2006 I told a little white lie. All I wanted for Christmas was to find out whether my firstborn was going to be a girl or a boy...and then to be able to tell my mother that she was finally going to have a granddaughter after her first three grandchildren were grandsons. You know, we love our boys but a Mimi needs a little girl to spoil. I scooched back my conception date by a good ten days or so when talking to the appointment scheduler so that I could take off the Friday before Christmas break, have lunch with my husband, and then head out of town for the holidays. My hCG induced plan was working well until...I saw that little you-know-what on the monitor.

I was having a BOY.

Not that I wasn't thankful for a healthy baby. But I'll be honest, for about an hour and a half I wasn't sure how I felt. I just knew within the fiber of my being that I was carrying a girl baby. Plus, I did not have a great track record with relationships with males in my life. How could I possibly be successful at being a mom to a boy?? Throughout the next few weeks I started to pray for this baby boy growing inside of me. I worried and I wondered, but five and a half months later this guy was born:

 

How could anyone not fall immediately in love with this chunky little face and bald head? Instantly, I loved all 10 pounds, 13 ounces of him! (Yes, I did it the natural way. Plus drugs. Thank you, Jesus, for epidurals!)

 

By now I have almost forgotten that he barely slept for the first year of his life. Because somehow, despite rocking my sleep-til-ten-every-Saturday world, he managed to be the happiest baby on the face of the planet. Oh, the trips I took trying to get this kid to sleep back then...I'm sure I at least tripled the size of the hole in the ozone layer for this child. (Are they still saying there's a hole? I forget. Didn't they say it mended its self somehow? I missed a couple of the years of the real world, you know. Raising babies and all.)

 

This boy is a light in a dark world. He wakes up at the crack of dawn happy to see me in my pajamas and messy hair. He will snuggle with me anytime, anyplace. He still holds my hand, too, even though he's so old now. He's six, you know. He loves his teachers at school and church, his friends, and his cousins. He idolizes those boys! Not a week goes by that he doesn't ask when we can move to "Benny and Grant's town."

 

"Mom, wouldn't it be neat if our house grew wings and could fly? We could move our house next door to Benny and Grant's!" (Yes, baby. If life were that simple, I would do that for you tomorrow. No, actually! I'd do it for you right now!!)

 

One of the many things I love about Evan Michael is that he doesn't know how beautiful he is. Like the song. :) Of course he's handsome, but that's not really what I mean. He is good *really good* at so many things with little effort. He's good at sports. He's an amazing singer. (He has better pitch than most adults without even trying.) He's also a fantastic reader. He is able to do pretty much anything he tries. He doesn't know that though. His little heart is just as anxious as any other child his age and he will never brag over his accomplishments.

 

Evan has the kindest heart of anyone that I know. He is the child that cries in empathy if he accidentally bumps into someone and knocks them down. He cannot stand to see his sister punished. And he is my personal defender. So don't even pretend like you're going to give me a wedgie. I promise your nether regions will regret it. Just ask The Dad. :D

 

He loves boy stuff...Star Wars and Xbox and baseball and Legos and running and sweating and making messes and loud noises.

 

Despite the fact that I was so frightened to have a son (I guess that's the best thing to name that emotion), there is one thing I love best about having a firstborn son. Firstborn sons usually become big brothers. It has been an honor watching this child respect his little sister in the way that he does. He takes care of her with a ferocious tenderness that is like nothing I've ever seen before.

 

 He will do anything to make this girl happy and to make the world right again. He is the peacemaker in our family. He is the rule follower. He even says he'd like to be a "cop" when he grows up. But above all, he wants to do what God has laid on his heart...to be more and more like Him each day.

 

Matthew 5:5-9

⁵ Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.

 

 

 

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Fast forward to summer 2013.

 

Every summer I take the kids to Virginia for as close to a week as we can manage with everyone's schedules and finances. Each year is a little more fun because as the kids get bigger they just entertain each other so well and get along. Plus, the fact that we collectively have fewer kids in diapers and fewer kids who need naps just levels the playing field. In short, it was a good time.

 

Our last day there was a Thursday and I timed everything so that we could have lunch with the cousins and then head home in time for me to get to worship rehearsal at church that evening. We decided to finally take the kids for their first visit to the Roanoke Star. We drove up the mountain and enjoyed a little bit of much needed July breeze at the top. The kids were less than amazed. At least we came away with the award winning photo below. Pfffffttt!! Not!!

 

 

We always have a hard time saying goodbye. The only thing that ever makes it easier when we leave is counting on the calendar to see how soon we will get to see each other again. So this time Aunt Renae extended our fun by taking us out to lunch at Fork in the Alley with the promise of visiting Bubblecake afterwards. Lunchtime within walking distance to downtown means quaint little holes in the wall will be crowded. We were limited to outdoor seating even though it was nearly 90 degrees. It didn't seem all that hot to me but Evan kept complaining about the sun being in his eyes. And there were flies all around...not the norm for FITA. It's really a nice little spot. Nonetheless, we were miserable. Evan kept drinking glass after glass of sweet tea. We decided to go when nobody really even wanted to eat. We just packed up the food and walked next door for cupcakes. Who needs protein when you can have air conditioning?

 

As we walked in the door the conversation went something like this:

EVAN: Mom, my tummy hurts. The smell.

ME: The smell?

EVAN: It smells like cake in here.

ME: Do you need to go to the restroom?

EVAN: I feel like I might throw up.

ME: Now?

EVAN: No.

ME: Let's sit down at this table over here just in case.

*I Take Evan by the hand.* I'm leading, he's following because of the narrow space. We get two steps in..

RENAE: Ahhhh! here it comes!!

EVAN: HUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLL

ME: Uhhhhhhh *blank stare*

RENAE: You take him out...I've got everybody else...

 

And there you have it. In our family, it's not a real vacation or family visit until somebody pukes. It's usually not in a cupcake shop, but you know, some occasions are just special like that.

 

A week or so later we were musing via facebook at how our lives...and our kids...provide for constant amusement. We do get into a duzy of a situation from time to time. Someone offered that perhaps we needed our own reality tv show. "Or," I said, "We could write a blog...."

 

And so, we did.

 

 

 

These were our cupcakes by the time we got back to NC. And yes, we still ate them. ;)