{ Seven For Sunday-Mother’s Day Thoughts }

I need to do a whole separate post for Mother’s Day, but thought I would jot down a few thoughts lately about my great kids since they were the ones that made me a mother in the first place. These “Seven for Sundays are suppose to be brief snippets, but I am realizing that these are pretty lengthy today-I guess I had a lot of great thoughts about these kids of mine, and the little things they have done lately.

1. Brianna has been really studying hard for her two AP exams at school, and has been pretty stressed about them. On Friday she had her first one and needed to be at school extra early. Aaron was working on inpatient the whole week so I had been taking Brianna to seminary. That morning our schedule was a little crazier than usual. The rest of the week I had been leaving at 6:40am, taking her to the church for seminary, going back and picking up the girls to take them to school and then getting back before 8 so Austin could catch the bus. This morning I needed to leave with Brianna and all of the girls to get her to school by 7:30am, then the girls to school before 8am. We then drove back home to get Austin and take him to breakfast at Chic-filet for his birthday breakfast. The kids had done scripture time on their own because Aaron had left early and I had slept in because I was up during the night with Ethan. When I came out the kids were all ready, lunches made, Brianna had done the girls hair, and they were all ready to go. The whole drive down to the school Brianna was reminding herself of “one last thing” she would need to know for her test and looking over her flashcards one last time. She was really nervous-I asked if she had a pencil “Yes, I had seventeen of them.”-SO nervous!. As she got out of the car the girls all shouted out last minute encouragements to her. It made my heart swell with love for these kids-I love families, and there in front of her high school I was reminded of what a special thing that is.

2. We talk A LOT at our house. We just do. All of my kids have gotten remarks on their report cards that they talk too much. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. We are just big talkers-as you can tell from some of my very lengthy posts. I have inherited the “talking gene” from my dad, and all of my kids have inherited it from me. A few weeks ago Brianna was telling us at dinner about how so many of her friends and kids at school don’t eat dinner together-they either eat alone in their bedroom (what?) or in front of the TV, but not together as a family. One friend mentioned that she only eats with her parents at Christmas and Easter, and it’s really awkward and hard to even talk with them. It made me so sad for her, and then Brianna says, “That is really sad. I just like our family so much.” (Like= more than a “I liked your Instagram picture, but in a higher plane than even love-it’s a crazy teenager thing) I “like” our family too and so glad that we talk so much and enjoy each other’s company.

3. Last night Brooke and Erika thought it would be a great idea to draw mustaches, goatees, and really bushy unibrows on themselves with permanent marker. Yes, permanent marker. It was kind of like an early mother’s day present to me-you know getting to walk into church with all my lovely kids perfectly dressed trailing behind me-WITH MARKER MUSTACHES on. Yea for me. Luckily, that permanent part only seems to work on paper and walls, not on faces. I was in between trying to look all mad and serious like and wanting to burst out laughing. I held my laughter in enough so the little boys wouldn’t see me-we are having major issues with them drawing on stuff. Like pen on the cloth dining room chairs and other furniture and walls. It makes my head spin sometimes. Hence-no pictures of this little mustache incident-we couldn’t applaud such “naughty” behavior. (though I am pretty sure that if that permanent marker had really carried through on it’s promise the embarrassment for them would have been punishment enough)

4.Ethan is really a good baby. He is starting to sleep good at night. He will go to sleep around 9:30-10:00pm and sleep most nights until 3am. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get myself to bed that early to actually take advantage of those sleeping hours.

5. Abby got her own set of scriptures for her birthday. She loves those things. She carries them around just waiting for a chance to read them and then makes little lists of the things that she has read and what she wants to read the next day. It’s definitely one of those proud mama moments I dream of.

6. Aaron and I took Austin out to eat at Red Lobster for his birthday on Friday. It was fun hanging out-just the three of us. We laughed at the Scott-look-alike waiter, ate until we were stuffed, and then Aaron took him and Brianna and her friend Ashleigh to a late movie. I went home and let the other kids watch a movie for movie night and then got them to bed. Before we had movie night I reminded the girls to read their scriptures for the day, and since I had already read mine, I took the boys up to the playroom to watch PBSkids for their “movie night”. I basically fell asleep on the couch with Ethan. At almost midnight we went downstairs to bed (the boys wanted to sleep on our floor and at midnight I wasn’t in the mood for a fight) I was getting their blankets ready and Scott is looking around for their kids scripture picture book. I was SO tired and really just wanted to go to bed. Scott continues to look, and I continue to just be tired. He finally says, “Where is our scripture book? Dad says we have to read everyday.” It’s crazy how fast a five year old can humble you. We find it and both boys climb up on my bed for a late night read. The next day when Aaron asked Scott to go get the book and what story we were on, Scott turned to it and told him back the whole story. I wanted to tear up right there-what an example this kid is to me on being diligent.

7. Every day for school Erika has to have a paper initialed for her behavior the day before. If the behavior was good then you get a little sticker. We are usually not on top of it to sign it the night before, so it’s a sign-in-the-car-on-the-way-to-school-at-the-stoplight kind of thing. She had it out and was talking about it to Brooke. Erika was mentioning how she had gotten all stickers this nine weeks and how a girl in her class had gotten stickers all year long. Brooke asked, “So what do you get for it?” Erika responded,”You get a happy mom, and a happy life!” Yes, happy moms make for a happy life.

8. A while ago I was talking to Scott at lunch and he was completely ignoring what I was saying to him. I was getting a little huffy at his complete defiance for what I was trying to tell him. He finally turns to me and in his sassy little voice says, “I was imaging that your voice was invisible.” Nice.

{ Life Lessons–To Live The Life of A Tulip }

Tulips are funny things some times.

They start out standing tall and look so dignified with their petals all closed up tight.

You bring them home, wash them up all pretty, trim some dead weight off the bottom and give them a happy new home in a fancy vase and there they stand ready to show off all they’ve got for all to see.

Over the next few days I notice that their tall and straight demeanor seems to fall a little-sometimes I think they just need a new view of the window from where they are sitting. Other times they just seem to follow the light. But by day eight they seem to be just downright tired, barely able to keep there once colorful blooms lifted up for anyone to see, sometimes amidst a sea of other tulips who still seem to be standing tall and proud.

There are days I feel like those eight day old tulips.

I feel like my once dignified and straight and tall demeanor fades and I often feel like just holding up my petals seems like such an impossible effort. I’m sure that all that weariness has a lot to do with those late night feedings that I am currently being exposed to. I’ve been known to say that I would rather get up every two hours feeding a newborn than having to potty train a kid. Now, I’m getting to do both. There are days when I wonder if life will ever by the same again.

Will there ever be a time when my house will ever be picked up again? Clean? I think I gave up that dream a while ago, but just picked up, is that too much to ask? And some days I really wish dinner would just cook itself. I’m actually considering changing my 2 meal a day cereal limit. Cereal can’t be all that bad if consumed for a full 24hours, can it? Will life be normal again? Will we get back to a normal schedule and normal bedtimes and normal activities that don’t involve running around like crazy people from one activity to the next.

Truth be told, there are days when this mothering thing is just SO hard. There are days that all those tidying up things get combined with all the really important things like all the worries and dreams I have for and about my kids, and all the things I need to teach them, and all those overwhelming feeling of love I have for them that just can’t seem to be put into words-they just sit in my heart and grow and grow with every look at each one of my precious kids. My mind swirls with how amazing they are and if I am helping them become all they can be. Are they learning to be kind and charitable? Am I teaching them to be compassionate and loving? Are they responsible and know how to work? I look and suddenly there I was, a tired little tulip who feels like holding up those petals is a little too hard for a while.

I had one of those days. And Aaron came home to my rescue without even knowing the super hero he was being. I got to go and actually take a nap with Ethan sleeping soundly next to me on my bed. When I woke up there was a sweet little note laying on my nightstand next to my bed.

“I love you mom. Love, Erika”. It had a pretty white flower taped to the edge of it.

Will my life ever by the same?

No, I’m confident it won’t. Because I am a mom, my life has been forever changed. How grateful I am for a loving daughter that reminded me of how great that change was.

And all those other tall and good looking flowers? Well, turns out they aren’t all those others that you think have it all together. They aren’t the Jones that you are chasing down. They aren’t the cashiers at the store looking down their noses at you. They are your family. Standing tall and proud of you. Because of you. Not in spite of you. Sometimes that new normal is not being weighed down low and wilting with the weight of life. If fact what you once thought was wilting was actually  bending-bending down low in thanks for a Heavenly Father who let you feel the weight of having eight little people love you so intensely. It’s a weight I am happy I get to feel each day.

{ Remembering Easter Sunday }

Last night I was upstairs sitting with Scott and Ryan in their room trying to get them to bed. It was way past their bedtime, and I was trying my best to get them to sleep without too many tears from either of us. Getting two little boys to want to go to sleep after a full day of Easter egg hunts and chocolate was becoming a bit of a challenge. We got on pajamas, brushed teeth, read stories, put on their stickers on their bedtime sticker charts from the night before, said prayers, and they were at least laying down in their beds. I was sitting between them trying to keep the peace, and hoping that sleep would quickly find it’s way to them. I had my phone out and was trying to finish up reading parts of my Sunday school lesson that I would be teaching the next day.

After getting Ryan to actually lay down and be somewhat quiet for awhile, Scott started talking to me about Easter. I told him that tomorrow was a special day that Jesus was resurrected. Suddenly all the knowledge that he had stored up in that little 5 year old brain, came spilling out along with all the tender feelings one could hope to have about the Savior. His honest and sincere questions of exactly what happened when Jesus died, and what is would be like when we are resurrected, and how Jesus really lives filled me with awe as I sat listening to this young child. His understanding far surpassed that of even some adults, and that “old” spirit of his came shining through in a way that I hadn’t seen before.

The spirit in that room was so real, and I could see Scott get choked up as he talked to me about Jesus. He spoke up with such excitement to answer all of Ryan’s questions like what a tomb was, and that Jesus was crucified, and how it was for three days. He told him that Mary saw Jesus and he talked to her, and that a big rock was rolled away from the tomb. We talked about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost, and how they were all separate and real. He told me that we are all brothers and sisters because Heavenly Father is the father of our spirits-even him and his friend Ann from preschool. He told me that sometimes when he is in the car and Ryan isn’t talking to him he hears a voice and it’s Jesus telling him, “Choose the right Scott”.

As I sat there experiencing a little bit of heaven, I was thankful that Heavenly Father blessed me with an over abundance of patience at that moment. The swirling thoughts of all the many things I still needed to do that night and the chaos of a busy day disappeared and there I was with just my two little boys in a dark upper room remembering what Easter was all about. The little light that shined from my phone was so small and weak compared to the bright light of hope from the Savior I felt in my heart at that moment. I felt like I knew in such a different way what it meant to become as a little child, and I was thankful for my own little children who had taught me so much about Easter.

My love for what He did is overflowing as I think of how imperfect I am and how much I depend on His atoning sacrifice that He made for me. How grateful I am for the Savior Jesus Christ who suffered and died for all of our sins, and who gloriously rose again on the third day. What hope it gives me to know that someday we too will rise again to be with Him forever.

{ Tiny Baby }

Weighing in at 8 lbs. 4 oz. I think hardly qualifies you as a tiny baby, but even now when I look at Ethan he just looks so little to me. He sleeps in our room at night, and by morning is usually in our bed. I look at him and he seems kind of lost on this big king sized bed of ours. I can’t help but think about how fast he will grow and before I know it he will fill my arms like Ryan does, and then my lap like Scott does, and then will be towering over me like Austin is. How I wish I could stop time for awhile and just keep him this tiny.

{ Sleep When the Baby Sleeps }

I have had a lot of advice given and asked of me in the last 15 years of motherhood. By far the one that has held the most truth in it has been the one that recommends that you sleep when the baby sleeps. Even after eight kids I totally forget how sleep deprived you can get with a newborn. After that first night in the hospital I remembered real quick. I was so lucky to have Aaron home for almost three weeks to help out while I recovered. He held down the fort so I was able to sleep when Ethan slept, since my night times were a bit lacking in the sleep department.

It’s funny how lots of other individuals have been taking that advice too, and grabbing a few winks when they can WITH baby Ethan. I think it’s just a good excuse to cuddle extra close to him-which I can hardly blame them for because he really is so fun to cuddle with. Here are some cute cuddle times they have had with him in his first two weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

{ Visiting OUR Baby }

It’s funny how ownership works. Usually you buy something with money and it becomes yours. Or you earn something-like a grade, and it’s yours. Occasionally you may own up to a choice, and that makes it yours too. Little baby Ethan wasn’t bought with money, or earned through any good merit of his brothers or sisters. He wasn’t necessarily their choice they could own, but they have claimed him as their own since they knew of his tiny little existence almost nine months ago. Every time we talked about “the baby” he was always OUR baby. And not the Aaron and I kind of OUR, but the whole Starbuck gang kind of OUR.They bought him with love and take that ownership so seriously. His every little movement and need is looked on with love and care. There are usually three people deep in line to hold him, or change a diaper, or sit next to him. Yes, ownership for this little guy is a group effort, but never was there anything quite so nice to share as OUR baby.

  The first little glimpses of Ethan were looked upon with complete wonderment and amazement for this tiny little creature that just days before they had to only imagine what he would look like. They seemed to hang on my every word as I talked about him being born or what he was like already at just a few hours old. The nurse had come to take his temperature a few minutes before they arrived at the hospital and his temperature was a little low, so she had me hold him skin to skin to warm him up a little. The kids loved to see his cute chubby little body as I played momma kangaroo for awhile.

    

Our tradition of holding a new baby still stands as youngest to oldest-and our former youngest Ryan was SO excited to hold Ethan. I think the sweetest thing though was that he immediately wanted to come sit on my lap and he asked me, “How are you feeling?” He had come up with that sincere little thought all on his own with no older sibling prompting and it was just what I needed to hear. He was so gentle holding Ethan and kept stroking his hair lovingly. So cute to see this brother to brother interaction already forming-or maybe just picking up where they left off in heaven a few years ago.

He was very interested in my IV in my hand and wanted me to “open it up” and show him my tummy. It took a little bit to figure out baby Ethan wasn’t in my tummy anymore. He decided he would just push on my stomach a few times to make sure and then he declared, ‘'”It’s just kind of fatty.” Ha! Love his candidness! And yes he was right, it’s just kind of fatty still. He was happy to give others a turn holding Ethan too, but after his last time holding him before leaving he said, “Can we put him back in your tummy?” I asked if he loved Ethan and he said “Yes, I was just joking”

{I just noticed how appropriate that he has a number 8 on his shirt for our little number 8 being born. Good job me for picking out that shirt beforehand and not even realizing that. I guess my pregnancy brain wasn’t that non functional at the end.}

Scott seemed almost the most nervous to hold Ethan. He was completely taken back by how little he was and kept saying, “I want to hold him, but I am just afraid I am going to brake him!” It was very sweet-and he did great! He held him close and Ethan even stuck his thumb in his mouth as Scott started holding him, so that made Scott just beam even more. He is going to be such a good older brother to those two younger guys.

Abby-aka “Little mommy #4”. I tell you those girls have been planning and plotting how they are going to care for this guy for months! A real live baby doll is just about every 7 year olds dream-and boy did Ethan not disappoint. After two younger brothers she has perfected the baby hold, and cuddled him like a pro.

Little mommy #2 and #3 were equally happy with their new roles as big sisters. They were pretty pleased that they were chosen to stay extra long that night and hold Ethan. They made sure that everyone got exactly 10 minutes of holding time and that he was constantly being passed to the next person so that they could get in as many turns as possible before Aaron came back to get them. Brooke amazingly seems to call all the diaper changing. I don’t complain at all, and am secretly doing air high fives about that fact. That girl knows just what this “service love language mom” needs sometimes. I love that!

      

And then there is this guy. I don’t think that smile could have gotten any bigger. He is pretty positive that Ethan and him are twinners and he couldn’t love it more. Austin and the girls got to stay a few extra hours with me at the hospital that night when Aaron took Brianna and the little boys home, and then Austin got to come back the next day and spend the whole day with me at the hospital. It was very heartwarming to see him loving hold Ethan and get just as excited as the girls at every little sneeze and yawn he made. It’s times like this that I feel bad for some other families that never get to experience bringing home a new baby and seeing what that does to your other children. It is pretty priceless.

    

Brianna was the one that most opening declared ownership on Ethan. He will probably eventually share a room with her for a while, and she has assured me that she will be overjoyed to fetch binkies in the middle of the night and calm him down. We will see about those latter promises, but as for the loving part-she already has that down pretty good. She loves on him and he just stares and stares so intently at her-it’s quite special to see. Brianna was happy to go back with the little boys instead of staying extra at the hospital that first night-with promises that she would get a chance the next night. After Aaron came down to get the other kids later that night though, he was SO tired and maybe rethinking the three trips down to the hospital the next day. At 30 minutes each way, it takes a lot out of the day and being in the car. She was bummed when she left for school the next day thinking she may not get a longer chance to be with Ethan. Aaron then decided to bring Austin to the hospital during the day to help me, and when he brought every else after school bring Brianna down and let her spend the night with me at the hospital. That text reply was filled with a resounding YES!!!! and lots of smiley faces.

It was nice to have some one on one time with my older kids and let them have some alone time with Ethan. Once he gets home and their busy schedules get quickly filled there aren’t always as many hours of uninterrupted baby holding time for them.

We are so glad that you are OURS Ethan. You have been waited for for a long time and we are so glad you are in OUR family. We love you so much!

{ A Birth Story }

When you have a specific date in mind for something to happen, it’s really hard to get that date out of your mind. Feb. 26, 2014. That was the date. A date that unfortunately came and went without a second thought. A date that for 7 other people in our house was THE date. 7, not 8 because I had one little stinker of a son, Austin that thought that it would be funny (or inspired) to pick March 5 as his due date when we made our baby chain. (More about our baby chain back here when Ryan was born). We all laughed that there was no way that I was going to be a week late. I have always been on my due date or at latest two dates late. We laughed it up, and went on with our countdown to the magic day. When that magic day came and went, we were laughing less, and Austin was grinning from ear to ear. He just knew that he was going to be right.

Every morning and every day after school I was met with disappointed faces from everyone that I was still at home. Everyone was on the lookout for a “contraction face” that I may have, and would question me, “Are you having a contraction?” Their hopeful attitudes were so cute, but unfortunately making the days go very slow. I had been having contractions for the last two weeks, but they would either be strong but not consistent, or consistent and not strong. Our little guy was just very content to stay right where he was.

I had a doctor’s appointment the week before my due date and was happy to be 2cm dilated and about 70% effaced-more progress than I had ever shown in any of my other pregnancies. The doctor’s appointment the day after my due date I was at 3cm, and the doctor’s appointment on March 4, the day before Ethan was born I was 4cm dilated and 75% effaced. We all agreed a mere whiff of Pitocin was all I would need to get things started. They set my induction date for the next morning, March 5-Austin’s guess and at 41 weeks gestation.

That day at my doctor’s appointment the doctor had stripped my membranes which started contractions within the next hour. After a few hours I was sure that I just may not make it to the next morning. We decided to keep ourselves busy and go out to eat at Texas Roadhouse. A little steak and soft rolls was not enough to tempt our sweet little boy out though. He was determined to stay in as long as he was allowed.

We were to call the hospital the next morning at 4am to see if they had a free bed for me to be induced. They did, but suggested we come in at 6:30 after the shift change. Brooke had also woke up at 4am throwing up, so we decided that a little extra time might be good. We had agreed to let the kids stay home from school that day (I’m pretty sure that there would have been not a lot of concentrating by them at school anyways because they would have been so excited), with Brianna and Austin babysitting the younger kids. We headed down to the hospital at about 7am, and got checked in right away. History taken, monitors hooked up, IV in, blood taken for epidural, and epidural in by 9:00am.

I had ice chips and a popsicle and was pretty much as comfortable as I could be. They started the Pitocin at about 10:15am, and gradually upped the dosage every 15-20 minutes or so.

I was smiling as I would see those big humps on the screen showing the intense contractions I was having, but not feeling one of them. Epidurals are my saving grace. I have given birth once without one with Brooke (not by choice), and boy was it hard. At this point, I was exhausted, felt so uncomfortable, and was just ready for our healthy little boy to be here. I have no shame in using the epidural route. My one issue I have is sometimes getting a pocket on my right side that doesn’t take, getting the shakes, or sometimes throwing up. Okay, that was three issues, but they are minor enough to out way my epidural choice. Lucky for me I didn’t get the shakes or throw up this time. The epidural was working great for awhile and I was all smiles, but don’t be fooled. It quickly went from this…

…to this.

At about 12:30 the midwife who was on that would be delivering me (our doctor wasn’t on that day) came in and checked me and broke my water. I was at 7cm and after that things went very fast. A short time before she came in I was starting to have to breathe through the contractions as they would come. There is this magic little button that can administer more medicine through the epidural, and then maxes out after 3? times. In all my pregnancies I have never pushed it. I don’t know why, I guess I feel like if I push it I am being too picky and expecting the epidural to work miracles and take away all the pain. I pushed it once, but was afraid to push it too many more times because the epidural was really working great. It was taking away the pain, but I still had great mobility in my legs. I have had other times when I couldn’t move my legs at all. When my legs started getting more tingly, but the pain wasn’t going away, I figured that I would have to take 2 out 3 of the side effects not happening. I had gotten a pocket that didn’t take, and boy did it start to get painful fast.

After she broke my water, the contractions were much more painful and things moved very quickly. The midwife could tell things were moving much quicker than they had thought. Her guess earlier was that I would deliver at about 2:30pm, and Aaron’s guess was that it would take 6-7 hours-or at about 4 or 5pm. Within about ten minutes I was at 9cm, and she thought if I pushed I would be a ten. Nurses rushed around the room prepping everything for our little boy’s arrival. The midwife has said at the next contraction just push, so I did, and kept pushing, but her and Aaron and the other nurses were just kind of chatting and waiting. Aaron looked over and said, “Are you pushing? You aren’t screaming or anything, just pushing like a champ”. Inside I felt like screaming and dying a little bit. The whole birth experience with Brooke was becoming all too real again, and I pretty much was feeling everything. I guess I was happy that the epidural had gotten me to this point. A few more minutes of pushing and our son was here. At 12:55pm, Ethan Christopher Starbuck was born. He had the cord wrapped around his neck, but had still come out very quickly-he was a bit blue and his poor little face was bruised from being evicted in a much quicker manor than he would have liked. But he was here, and after a few seconds of encouragement he was screaming and letting us know that he was perfect in every way.

After they weighed him in a 8lbs. 4 ounces, Austin’s birth weight as well, we were sure that him and Austin just might be kindred spirits. His hair was even a bit lighter just like Austin’s was when he was born.

The midwife who delivered Ethan, Captain DeSantas.

    

After eight pregnancies, and eight births, I still get a little choked up when I look at these perfect little beings who get sent to us. They really are miracles in every sense of the word. His hand can barely grasp around just ones of his daddy’s fingers, yet he has a way of fully grasping our hearts in a way that will never make us the same. Just minutes old, and we are already completely in love with the little guy.