Sunday, October 2, 2011

Day 2: Tell us about your child(ren).

As much or as little as you like. Names, birthdays, stats.

The oldest.  14 years old.  Boy.  

From the beginning, we knew that he was had the special ability to recognize others' feelings.  He would react to the mood of the room.  He was always concerned how others felt.  Even if it meant disregarding his own feelings or needs.
He is lovingly called a space cadet.  A dreamer.  Not artistic.  He is the first to tell you that.  But he dreams big.   He has known since he was about 4 years old that he couldn't be a priest in the Catholic faith because he planned to marry and have children.  Most of his essays for entry into the local Catholic schools included the fact that he wants to be a role model father.   He has been my rock through all our tragedy the past few years.  He understands the pain and now can directly relate to those around him that experience a similar pain from loss.

12 in 16 days.  "Middle Child" for 8 years.  Boy.

He is loud.  He wants to be heard.  He smiles like the day is long.  He can light up a room.  Quick to laughter, quick to temper.  Struggles in school.  Will be the best friend a boy could ever have.  Always ready for a party or gathering.  Instrumental for the organization of flag football, pool parties, basketball games in the driveway, and baseball in the front yard.  However, he is a home-body.  Will beg to go home if he is away too long.  He loves music and can usually recite lyrics of most songs.  Can name an artist or title in a heartbeat (I am always impressed because I can't do this!)

He is our quiet one about his sister.  He usually gets angry if she is talked about too much.  Not because he doesn't care, but because it hurts him too much.

9 years old.  The "Baby" for 8 years.  Boy.

He is always around.  Always underfoot.  Always hugging, kissing, loving.  His cuddling puts the family pets to shame.  Always game for whatever anyone is doing.   
FIERCELY independent.  He takes after his mother on this count.  If he can do it, don't help him.  If he needs assistance?  Tell him, don't show him.  Tough as nails.  Who wouldn't be as the youngest of 3 boys?

Despite being the baby, he was the most anxious about a new baby arriving.  He prayed over his baby in my tummy.  Sang lullabies.  Snuggled in a chair with her.
He was the first to completely break down when we said goodbye to Jamie.  His poor, fragile, warm heart was broken for the first time.  The heart wrenching sobs were something we never had heard from him, our strong warrior.

Would be two years old in 10 days.  Gone.  Girl.

We lost her 1 hr and 15 minutes after birth.  She had a genetic mutation called Thanatophoric Dysplasia.  A fatal dwarfism.
Our blessing and our pain.  

7 months.  The youngest.  Boy

Our rainbow.  Our calm after the storm.  Our delight.  Our joy.  Our love.  

He is still young, but to quote our pediatrician...he is our very precocious child.  She announced this when he was about 2 months old.  He constantly startles us with his personality and behaviors.  Peek-a-boo on his own at 4 months.  Ability to pick up the smallest fiber in his two fingers on purpose.  Has no difficulty "lecturing" his older brothers from the pulpit, which is better known as the exersaucer.
Makes things too easy for us parents. 
However, I think he just might give us a run for our money.

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