Comparisons

There are differences between the first baby and the last. Here are some I've noticed:

First baby: the reaction of our families was giddy excitement. First grandchild on both sides. Grandmas started shopping for outfits and crocheting right away.
6th baby: Reaction of families is bafflement. "What?...How?...Who...Huh?"

First baby: I started wearing maternity clothes when I was two weeks pregnant because I was really, really excited.
6th baby: I started wearing maternity clothes when I was two weeks pregnant because that's when I grew out of my normal clothes.

First baby: Scott jumped in the car every time I had a craving and brought back whatever I asked.
6th baby: Do you remember when I asked for Panda and got gyros? After that, I went to Panda ALL THE TIME, by myself. Ha!

First baby: Went to violin making school all day and waited tables at night up until the 9th month. Reluctantly gave up the waitressing gig because Scott was embarrassed his wife was trolling for tips with her enormous belly.
6th baby: Taught ballet up until the last month. Pretended to be stretching whenever I couldn't get up off the floor. Pulled a muscle demonstrating a tendu.

First baby: I had a hospital bag packed by the end of the first trimester, stocked with the most ridiculous things, like massage oil and card games.
6th baby: I actually googled "What to take to the hospital when you're having a baby" an hour before we left to go to the hospital. I think I ended up with a book and my phone.

First baby: I brought my regular jeans to the hospital to wear home. I was surprised when I couldn't get them up past my knees.
6th baby: I wanted to wear the hospital gown home, but they wouldn't let me. I had to change back into the maternity clothes I came in. They were still snug.

First baby: Someone told me to feed her every two hours, so I did. I timed it. Golda would be screaming and I'd think, "Well, she's not hungry. It hasn't been two hours. Hmm...what's wrong?"
6th baby: He has never cried. You can't cry if you're eating.

First baby: I had just graduated from violin making school and quit my job, so I had absolutely nothing to do except take care of one little baby. I still couldn't manage to take a shower.
6th baby: I'm taking showers and keeping six kids fairly clean. Well, five. Freestone is a bit of a challenge in that area.

First baby: I think I was too shell-shocked to go anywhere. And too leaky. And too confused.
6th baby: I'm trying to stay home and rest, but it's harder than it looks. Life keeps getting in the way. The poolside is more relaxing than home, anyway, and it puts Ptolemy to sleep.

First baby: Scott and I stared at her all the time thinking how miraculous she was.
6th baby: Scott and I stare at him all the time thinking how miraculous he is. That part doesn't change, I guess.

City of Brotherly Love

Philadelphia ain't got nuthin' on our town since Freestone brought his baby brother home from the hospital. He has been very solicitous of the baby and me, carrying things and opening doors, keeping his eyes open for anything that might harm his little bro. A mosquito flew into the car and Free said, "We have to get that out of here! We don't want it to bite Ptolemy's brand-new skin!"

Leaving Ptolemy home with Scott, I took Freestone to Golda's voice recital tonight. Immediately after sitting down in the audience, Free said, "Take me home. Tolly is soooo hungry and what if Daddy's trying to feed him?"

Freestone loves that he was there when Ptolemy was born, that he saw Golda cut the cord and watched the nurses clean up his baby brother. Free got to hold Tolly when he was minutes old, beginning a bond of brotherhood that will last their whole lives. Now that I see a new, tender side of Freestone, it occurs to me that each relationship we have and nourish fosters a different aspect of ourselves. Free sees himself differently now, as protector of his future video game buddy. He's the guy that will teach Ptolemy how to make obscene sounds with his armpit, but he's also the guy who will help Ptolemy reach the band-aids when he's hurt.

Gazing at his sleeping brother, Freestone said quietly, "I wish you could get your driver's license when you're six. I'd take Tolly to 7-11 and get him a Slurpee."

The time will come...

Emily's Art

My very talented sister-in-law is having a giveaway here. Among other artistic endeavors, she does the most sublime, modern paper cuts. Emily is an artist in every sense. You'd be lucky to win her drawing and have one of her beautiful images to look at. Check it out!

Squeaky Clean

There's nothing cleaner than a freshly bathed baby...at least for the first few minutes. Scott had lots of helpers. Ptolemy couldn't have been any more thoroughly soaped and rinsed. He was highly entertained by all the attention.

Heroes in Mom Jeans

Just kidding...none of my heroes wear Mom Jeans except President Obama. (You heard about the baseball game, right?) My heroes are moms in very stylish clothing. :) I just have to give a shout-out to the girls who have helped me rest and rehabilitate my stomach muscles while focusing on my tiny babe. Many of our friends have helped us, and we have been very spoiled. I get phone calls every morning saying essentially, "What's my assignment today?" Coco, Jennie, Emily, Gingham Michelle, Nadine and Sarah have taken the kids for more hours than I can count and continue to arrange to bring us dinners, groceries and Scott's favorite cinnamon rolls. Every day, my mom takes all the kids to French class and then whisks two or three of them off on fun adventures for the rest of the day. Anyone who has had a baby knows the huge relief it is to have somebody focus on the older kids and let them feel cared-for. Right now, with Golda and Ruby at Harry Potter with Coco, Xanthe getting ready to go to Costco with Emily and Freestone planning his next rendezvous with Collin, I am completely free to teach Araceli how to hold her baby brother safely, without distraction. She loves it, and I'm grateful to have that one-on-one time. Plus, when Scott gets home, I feel like I haven't seen the other kids all day, which gives me the energy to take them somewhere in the evening while Scott holds his last baby and marvels at his sweet face...before he grows up.

Thanks, moms.

Take Your Ptolemy to Work Day

It's a nationwide holiday. You didn't know? It's called Take Your Ptolemy to Work Day, and everyone who has a son named Ptolemy gets to take him to work and show him the ropes. Scott left this morning with a full and drowsy baby in his carseat and a bouncer seat to put him in on the desk. Scott gets so lonely at the office with no tiny face to gaze at and no cute noises in the background, he had to come up with a plan. With all the kids constantly clamoring for a turn to hold the baby, I think kidnapping the babe was the only way Scott was going to get his turn. Plus, he wanted to show off his son. When Golda was a baby, Scott bought her a little purple beret and denim dress. At restaurants, he would hold her above his head like she was a miniature conquering hero. If someone in the crowd didn't ooh and ahh, he was genuinely offended. When I told Ruby Daddy had taken Ptolemy to the office, she said, "He hasn't changed since Golda was a baby." Indeed he hasn't, which I love. It's fun to be married to the proudest papa on the planet.

While Daddy worked, Ptoly brushed up on his Utah code and visited Bill. Bill likes the idea of a fourth generation of attorneys at the firm. He repeated his mantra to Ptolemy, the one that worked on only 33% of his own kids (and Scott!), "You can do anything you want in life...after law school." It might be awhile before Ptolemy goes to law school, and Ruby might beat him to it, but at least he has a head start. If he hadn't had to come home to be nursed and have his diaper changed, he might have been the world's youngest lawyer. Maybe after naps.

Thanks

Dinner, chauffeuring, cinnamon rolls, babysitting, flowers, gifts...How did we end up with such great friends, family and neighbors? Etiquette requires more than a "blog thanks," but it's a start. :)

The Kid

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