I didn’t want to leave that dreary post up over the weekend, so I thought I’d balance it out with things that make me smile.

Graham, aka He Who Loves To Read/Write/Build, signed up for the basketball team. He had his very first game on Wednesday.

WHERE DID MY BABY GO?

Emily drew me this picture (hover to read the story behind it).

She’s my little artiste.

These tea cups I got for my birthday.

I feel so FANCY.

My bi-weekly girls’ night with Emily while the boys are at Spudz.

I read while she watched her Barbie movie, and then we watched Enchanted. Love.

A few non-photo-related things that make me smile:

• Inexpensive date night ideas
• That two Canadian teenagers sent a Lego man to space. You need to watch the video.
• You can redeem your Air Miles for ski lift tickets. Matthew and I have five each coming in the mail.
• This DUI test video. BEST TEST EVER. (Hat tip: Schmutzie)
• I have plans for a dinner out this Sunday with the same ladies who came to my birthday night. I can’t wait.

What’s making you smile?

Today you are nine. NINE. Nine years ago you came into our lives and made us parents. Life as we knew it no longer existed. There were the feedings every two hours, and the mustard poop that occasionally went up your back and sometimes, onto the bathroom wall. There were all of the decisions that I needed to make but could not be done until I examined them every which way and called three of my good friends who had kids older than you. It took me awhile, but I eventually figured out that you were pretty laid-back and didn’t care about the minute details I worried about. You were a good baby for me.

You are a good kid, too. You’re at the age where I don’t want to go into too much detail, because you have your own story, but I also want to tell you how much I love you and this is my space in which to do so.

I love how you are such a good big brother to your brother and sister. Yes, you can be a little bit of a bossypants at times – it’s the role of the firstborn – but you play well with both of them and look out for them. Not because you have to, but because you want to.

You’re in the midst of a “know-it-all” stage, partially because you are the firstborn and partially because you are NINE. I call you on it, because I find it hilarious. You’ll say, “Well, technically (fill in the blank).” I’ll fire back. “Is that a fact, or are you making stuff up?” (Dad makes stuff up ALL THE TIME. You get it from him.)

You love to read, and you love to write stories with amazing illustrations. You are a Lego NINJA. You love to (cook, and) eat scrambled eggs. You do that shaking-head bug-eyed thing to me, and  I do it back, when we’re all, “What?”

You chew your lip like I do, you look a lot like I did as a kid, and you are wired a lot like me. I get you. And you, get me. As much as I miss my baby boy, I kind of love how I have this person (you) with whom I can have both hilarious and serious conversations with. I am often surprised by the wise words that come out of your mouth, whether they are aimed at me or a stranger.

I love you, dude. So much. So, so much. You are my first baby, my first boy, my introduction into each new stage of parenthood. I’m thankful that you get to lead the way for your brother and sister and I’m sorry if the pressure of being the firstborn is a bit much. Your Dad and I are both firstborn children, so we get it, and try to balance it. We fail, often, but we’re trying. Thank you for being so patient with us.

Today you are nine and I almost can’t believe it. But, hey. I’ve had nine years with one of the most amazing kids that the world e’er did see.

I love you the most.

Mom.

P.S. A birthday post would be not be right without some of my favorite photos of you:

You are my favorite (nine-year-old).

Christmas recap, done! But that’s not what I’m excited about. I’m excited that we finally made it up to the ski hill to take lessons. OH, YOU GUYS.

We got up to the hill yesterday, about an hour before the kids’ lessons started, in order to get their skis waxed. As we pulled in to the parking lot they were so! excited! They were going to LEARN HOW TO SKI! As we were hanging out in the ski shop, Graham was talking about how we should buy a cabin up there and spend all of our winters SKIING. (This, from a dude who’d yet to strap a pair of skis on.) Before we knew it, the skis were ready and it was time to head down to the group lessons area. I think that the best way to cover yesterday is to do it timeline-style.

9:25 Gather in the area where the groups of children are divided into their respective skills level. Let Mom take an obligatory photo because you are so! excited! to learn how to ski.

9:30 Strap on skis while we wait for groups to be sorted out and walk around a flat area to get the feel for them. So far, so good!

9:45 Find their instructor and as he leads them in a different direction on the “flat” area, Emily slips and then throws herself to the ground in frustration. “THIS IS TOO HARD!” Tears, flailing, the whole bit, despite all of our pep talks telling her that this is how it would be. We begged, we pleaded, we played tough.

9:55 Still dealing with Emily. Her big wish for taking lessons was that she be with her brothers, and not a stranger. We told her that we did not have the ability to teach her, so she either stayed with the group, or she’d have private lessons with a stranger. We also told her to just try it until lunch, and then we’d assess. We walked away as Graham was holding her hand and helping her “walk.”

10:30 We returned and peeked out a window to see them sitting on a snow bank, eating snow. I went to them and asked them if they were on a break, or if something else was going on. Graham, in a teary voice: “We just want to go home.” Emily had a quivering lip and Nathan wiped away crocodile tears while saying, “This is SO HARD.” I told them that it IS hard, but that after they got it, they would have SO MUCH FUN. I had them promise to try until lunch, and then we’d talk about it. Matthew and I stayed to help (the instructor is a great kid, but was outnumbered with five kids who had never been on skis before.)

11:30 Nathan masters “the pizza” (snowplow). Graham is getting there, and Emily has found her balance.

12:00 Lunch. The kids are looking forward to their afternoon lessons.

1:30 Graham (almost) masters “the pizza.” Emily is doing small, unassisted spurts, and staring to “pizza.” Nathan has been told that he will move from the tiny hill to the bunny hill tomorrow.

2:30 Lesson is over. Graham has mastered “the pizza.” Emily is doing AMAZING, and the instructor remarks on her improvement. Nathan won’t stop talking about the bunny hill.

We get home, eat, and then go sit in the hot tub, etc.

TODAY

The kids spent the morning practicing on the wee hill. Normally, those who were ready would be moved to a different instructor so that they could start on the bunny hill, but it’s a busy week. Everyone had to wait for Emily and one other kid. We helped as much as we could but knew she’d be better if her instructor had more one-on-one time with her. We went to pick up our own skis from getting waxed and geared up and returned to hear (and see) that she could do “the pizza”!

We had lunch and the kids were talking about how much they LOVED skiing and how HAPPY they were and how much FUN they were having. A complete 180 from the morning before and it made me so happy. It hurt my heart to see them so frustrated, but I knew that temporary pain would provide years of gain. It was still hard, though. I spent a lot of time watching them through the window upstairs.

After lunch entailed not only their afternoon lesson, but also a lesson for Matthew and I. I skied sporadically throughout my teens and early twenties, but it’s been a good fourteen years and I thought lessons would be a good idea. Matthew predicted that he’d be flailing everywhere and bailing all over the hill, despite the fact that he’s a natural athlete. At 1:15, we met with our instructor, shortly after taking this photo.

After 90 minutes, we were turning, we were gliding, and we were doing hockey stops. Yes, we were on the bunny hill, but we rocked that bunny hill. Bonus: Neither of us bailed or even did any arm-windmill action.

As for the kids? All three of them spent the afternoon ripping up the bunny hill with their instructor. He still did some backwards skiing for Emily by the end of the day, but the boys were free to go and wait for him at the bottom of the hill. We let them go a few times after our lessons, and they seriously flew. And Emily? Well, the instructor thinks she’ll be ready for solo trips by the end of tomorrow.

We can’t wait to be back up there the rest of the week (and the season) to keep getting better and to keep having fun.

Best. Decision. EVER.

2003

(I apparently thought eyebrows were overrated.)

2004

(Graham and Nathan-bean.)(Now with even less eyebrows!)

2005

(They were so WEE.)

2006

(Emily was so tiny! SO TINY.)

2007

(Little Miss Thumb Sucker was rocking her fierce pose. The dudes are slaying me.)

2008

(Wait. That was THREE YEARS AGO?)

2009

(Cannon Beach, Oregon. Photo courtesy of Kerri Anne.)

2010

I managed to grab a photo of the five of us that we all liked with less than ten tries.

I also took this one on Christmas Eve.

It’s in a frame in my office.

2011

We walked down to the bridge crossing the creek, I wielded my camera remote, and we came out with this one.

I love seeing the changes from year to year, and extra thankful for the four other members of my family unit. Happy holidays, folks.

As he’s grown older, I share less about his life. His stories aren’t mine to tell and he’s started to write his own stories. His life intersects with mine — it always will — but I try to respect his privacy. That said, I’m still a Mom, standing in front of a computer, asking my friends if they understand how I’m feeling.

This child of mine, my first born, will be nine this month. NINE. Because he is (almost) nine, he is not always ready for bed at 8:00 when his siblings are. He is allowed to stay up if he either reads or writes and on Saturday night, he wrote.

As I shared that photo and typed out his age I was a little bit gobsmacked. My firstborn is (almost) nine. ALMOST NINE.

I still remember the day of his birth and I remember that day when he was about six-months-old in the baby swing and I had him doing the belly laugh (at my hair)(babies love it) and I remember his Frankenstein first steps on Christmas Day and, oh.

I asked him yesterday if he was going to turn into a surly teenager who no longer puts his arm around me when singing at church or who wouldn’t let me hug him or who would no longer sit with me on the couch. He said no. I hope that’s our reality.

I have mentioned a number of times that I have eight siblings. Yes, eight. No, not am “Octomom” eight, but eight. Same Dad, three different Moms. We’re pretty spaced apart, us three sets, but we get along pretty great regardless.

What I may not have talked about in a long time is the one sibling I spent my formative days with. Mel is my sister from the same mother and is 2 1/2 years younger then I. She is also my polar opposite. This is not a bad thing; it is just simply fascinating how two girls, from the same gene pool, can be so different from each other. Anyone who knows us both can attest to the fact that we are like black and white.

Growing up, we were not friends. Oh, my baby sister would cut anyone who hurt her big sister (she’s even feistier than I am) but the rest of the time we led different lives. Except, you know, when she was chasing me around the house with a serrated knife (!) or we were fighting about anything and everything. I will still fight for her if need be, but I wouldn’t say that we’re close. She’s my sister and I love her and that’s where we’re at.

I am no longer a child and I am married to a man (over eleven years later, this is still a revelation most days) and we have borne three children. Three children. THREE CHILDREN. Each of whom is the most amazing child that the Earth e’er did see.

(Did my Mom feel the same way about me? I’d like to hope so.)

But these kids are so awesome, so amazing, so hilarious. They crack me up all of the time and they make my heart want to burst with their words and this is a whole new world, for me.

Glimpses:

We say grace every night at dinner every night and Emily often volunteers. “Thank you so much for my family and that I love them so much and that I have the best Mom and Dad in the whole world and I love them so much.”

And I quote (myself): Graham emailed me to ask if they could stay home from school on Friday. I wrote back and asked why. Him: “Because I want to spend time with you.”

Quoting myself (again): Nathan: “Mom! Graham is bugging me while I’m trying to read.” Me: “Graham! Are you being a wenis?” Him: “Sort of.” At least he’s honest.

When it was time for the kids to go to bed last night, I made sure everyone brushed their teeth and then asked Emily what book she wanted to read. Graham asked if he could read to her. Nathan asked if he could join them. Then Graham came out a few minutes later to ask if they could read her a second book. Nathan then came out to get me to sign his homework and go to bed. Graham asked if he could cuddle with Emily to go to sleep, because she asked him to.

(I love my kids so hard.)

I went in to get him and as I tucked him in, he said that he had sung her a lullaby. (Graham DOES NOT SING.) I asked what he had sung to her and he said that he had made something up.

Emily got up to ask me for a kiss goodnight and as I tucked her in, she told me that Graham had sang to her. I asked her what he had sung to her, and she sang it for me.

Lullaby, lullaby, Emily go to sleep.

I DIE.

I had no idea that siblings could be this close. I kind of love it.

About a month ago, we got Graham his own gMail account. Don’t judge me. Or do.

(My kids will not be on Facebook for many, many years. *I* can’t handle The Crazy most days, so I am not going to subject them to it until they are of the age where they can handle it.)

(Same goes for cell phones. Graham has a friend who has had a cell phone since third grade. I…just…WHAT?)

We have his log-in information and he uses one of our laptops to access said gMail account. He occasionally emails a school friend (About snow forts! And lunch plans!) and the rest of the time he spends emailing back and forth with Matthew and I. He is REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS. I am, too, because his emails usually crack me up. Here is our exchange from yesterday, while sitting IN THE SAME ROOM. (Parenthesis are for clarification, and were not part of our exchange.)

G: do you want for christmas?

Me: What do I want for Christmas? From you or from Dad?

(I wondered if Matthew was fishing.)

G: no silly from me.

Me: Coffee in bed?

G: what about new lipstick or new makeup?

(I looked at him and asked him how much allowance he had saved up, since he just spent some on a game. He offered to use some of his own Christmas money that he has asked for from grandparents instead of presents, to use towards saving for a Nintendo 3DS. (AWWWW))

Me: Lipstick and makeup is expensive. How about a $5 Beanery gift certificate?

(The Beanery is a local coffee shop)

G: And where am I going to find that?

(Haaaa!)

Me: You buy it from the Beanery. They then give you a card with $5 on it that I can spend on coffee or a treat.

He hasn’t responded yet, as bedtime took precedence, but I’m sure he’ll have a response in the morning.

We’ve had other great exchanges via email, and while they pale in comparison to the hilarious/great/deep conversations that we have in real life, I love that I get to be the one to help him learn how to communicate in an online forum. I also love that he wants to communicate with me via every avenue that he can. File this under Reason #782 that I love having kids.

(We’re also nothing like Vancouver – we get very little rainfall here in desert country. While I used to own at least three umbrellas back in my Vancouver days (one in the car, one at the office, one at home), I haven’t owned an umbrella since moving here ten years ago.)

With the warning of a colder than average winter, Matthew and I thought we’d look into our options for a tropical getaway. We’d take a week to go away, just the two of us, in order to recharge our marital batteries, but there is nobody to watch our kids. Boo. We had an opportunity to rent a condo in Neuvo Vallarta from a family member and started planning a family vacation. When looking at our mileage points, we thought that we could cover three flights, use a companion fare, and only have to pay one fare. MEXICO, BABY.

We sat down on Saturday morning to book everything and while talking to a customer service representative, we discovered the following:

1. Only two of our five flights would be covered by miles.

2. We’d have to pay a ridiculous amount of taxes on those flights.

3. The other two flights would costs us a a good chunk of change, and the taxes on the companion fare were also ridiculous.

What we thought would be a $2,000 holiday was looking closer to a $4,000 holiday. For that price, we thought we’d look at deals on all-inclusive resorts. We found one, and so began The Great Debate. My argument was that an all-inclusive resort would be a true vacation. No meals to plan, no groceries to buy, no events to plan. All we had to do was sleep and eat and bring the kids to the Kids’ Club (if they wanted) and lay by the pool and watch the evening entertainment. Matthew’s argument was that we could stay at the condo for cheaper, and we could stay for longer and we might be disappointed by the all-inclusive resort after being spoiled (twice) by “our” resort on the Mayan Riviera.

There was some banter, and some debate, and some discussion about the many dollars that this trip would cost, even if going with the “cheaper”/condo version. It was going to cost us more than we had expected. I then threw out an option that Matthew didn’t expect.

Maybe we shouldn’t go to Mexico.

He had been pushing the trip, despite the increased cost, because he knows how much winter gets me down. What I hadn’t communicated to him lately is that now that we have plans to take up skiing, I have watched the snow fall without any dread. I am excited because that means that we will be skiing soon. We will be above the cloud cover, we will be having fun family time and we will be getting fresh air and exercise. WHEE!

I suggested that instead of spending a week in Mexico for FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS, that we spend a week on the local ski hill for far, far less. We’ll still be away from home and we can ski, sled, skate, eat out, play board games, ETCETERA. And, while we’re reallocating FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS, I’d like to request that we spend seven nights at “our” cabin in Cannon Beach next July, instead of our usual four nights.

We both agreed that it was the best idea and spent the rest of the day sporting goofy grins because we know that it is the best option for us. We would still like to get away, just the two of us, and are hoping to make that happen somehow (Any takers?). Whether that happens or not, it feels really great to make decisions that aren’t just financially sound, but that will be a whole lot of fun.

Besides. These crazy kids seem to like the snow.

*Having a sledding hill in your backyard is a little bit awesome.

**More sledding photos on Flickr. Man, it felt good to take photos with the big camera and play around with editing.

Before we even started trying to get pregnant and have kids, Matthew and I would discuss the names that we wanted for our future children. If our first child was a boy, I wanted to name him Graham. My Step Mom was instrumental in my decision to become a Christian, her maiden name was Graham, and if I had not made that decision I would not be married to Matthew, so. It seemed perfect. He agreed.

If our first child was a girl, she would be named Naomi. We like traditional names and Naomi is both traditional and pretty, in our opinions.

As for that first child’s middle name, I share a middle name with my Mom and thought that I would share my middle name with my first daughter, should the opportunity arise. I suggested that our firstborn son share Matthew’s middle name, in keeping with that theme. He thought it was a great idea.

While waiting to see who came forth from our first full-term pregnancy, we would wither be meeting a Graham Jonathon or a Naomi Dian.

We met Graham Jonathon on December 29th, 2002.

During our second pregnancy, we struggled with boys’ names until the very end. We had our girl’s name lined up, but what were we going to call this baby should it be a boy? I suggested that the middle name be Matthew, so that if there were two boys, each boy would have one of his Dad’s names. Matthew’s response was a teary, “Really?” Yes, really. It was mere days before we had our next baby that we decided on a first name for a boy. We really liked Nathaniel but we (didn’t know if it was too long of a name, and) hate shortened names. We settled on Nathan.

Nathan Matthew was born on August 25th, 2004.

We had two babies, twenty months apart, and wondered if we might be done. Two kids so wee, with all of the feedings and diapers and naps and all of the insanity made us think that our first vision of Three Kids might be ridiculous. We knew it was not the time to take drastic actions and when Sir Nathan was around a year old I said that I thought that I might want to have one more baby. Just one more, boy or girl.

Matthew had been feeling the same way and so we embarked on a third pregnancy.

We were back in the names discussion and decided that Naomi was off the table for a girl; it sounded too close to Nathan. (I still mourn the loss of the name. I love it so.) What first name would we use if we should have a girl? We loved Emily but it was the number one name in our province which meant…nothing. We loved it and we would use it. Amen.

As for the name if we were to have a third boy, our discussions/debates were never ending. Matthew’s siblings kept having boys, too, which meant that traditional names that we loved were being knocked out of the running. At the eleventh hour we decided that if this baby were a boy, he would be named David Christopher.

Emily Dian was born on October 11th, 2006.

Names are important to me; this is obvious. I do not like to shorten names, except in certain circumstances. Graham is Graham. Nathan is Nathan. Emily is Emily. Matthew is Matthew (except at the church, where he is Mr. Matt). My name is Angella, Ange if you are a friend of mine, Angie if you have a death wish.

While thinking about this yesterday, I came to a startling realization. I know where my middle name comes from but I have no idea why my name has two L’s. I love it, it is me and it is the perfect fit. I cannot imagine going by any other name. I now need to find out how my name came to be.

2006 – The year of the Batmen

Those were actually pajamas. Double duty! (Duty. Heh.)

2007 – They’re Incredible

ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?

2008 – Optimus Prime (Graham), Belle and Bumblebee (Nathan)

Too awesome for words.

2009 – Ironmen and a Little Mermaid

Love, love, love.

2010 – Darth Vader (Nathan), Cinderella and Boba Fett the Storm Trooper (Graham)

Have you figured out the theme yet?

2011 – Two Ninjas and a Snow White

I look forward to their costume selection every year. I also look forward to looking back over previous years’ costumes every year because SERIOUSLY. This is awesome in action.