Bed Hogs...

In my 21 years of parenting I have discovered that there are three main types of bed hogs. Yes, I am the mom (we are the parents) that let their children climb in bed with them for just about any reason. Bad dream, tummy ache, fever, lonely, wanting snuggles...you name it.

The first type of bed hog is the "heat seeker".  This is the child who will cling to you, burrow into you and somehow find you in the bed no matter how you try to evade her. My first heat seeker was my daughter Meg, now 21 years old. She would climb in bed with me (actually, I never bothered to put her in her own bed, even though she had one),  and just go straight for the throat. Literally. I would wake up in the mornings with downy soft, blonde baby hair tickling my nose because she would fit the back of her neck sideways over my throat. I have no idea how I endured this, because I am a little claustrophobic, but I actually enjoyed it. She was my baby. I was going to school full time and working several jobs, so I soaked her up every second I could, even if that was while we were sleeping.

She doesn't sleep with me anymore - she's kinda huge. I have a new heat seeker - 7 year old Luke Christopher. He doesn't climb in with us often, but when he does, you know you are in for a long night. He burrows. He clings. He plasters himself right up against you. Lukey is going through a growth spurt right now, and having the bad dreams that seem to accompany growth spurts in children his age. We pull him in, and his dad scoots over as far as he can to accomodate for the big boy climbing in between us, and he puts his sweet head on my arm, and I know I am trapped until morning. There is no escape, even if I ease my arm out and scoot away, he will find me in his sleep, and burrow in once more.

The next kind of bed hog is what I like to call "the sprawler". Four year old Benjamin is one such bed hog. Climbing into bed with us, usually under the guise of needing to snuggle, as soon as he falls asleep, he flips sideways, so his head is in the middle of his dad's back, and his feet are kicking me. No matter how many times we rearrange this child, he always flips back to his sprawl position. This too, makes for a long, uncomfortable night. We have tried putting him back in his bed, too - but if he wakes up and catches you LOOK OUT! He is kinda mean when woken. So it's not really worth the effort, especially if he manages to wake the third kind of bed hog...

Yebbi - aka Caleb, our 2.5 year old, is the worst kind of bed hog. He sometimes wakes in the night, so we bring him into our room before he can wake the other kids. He loves being cuddled. Until he falls asleep. Then he is ALL OVER THE PLACE. This kid does NOT like sharing a bed. He wasn't one to be held while sleeping as a baby, either. He wanted to nurse, and then lay down in his own space. Fine by me! His bed was within arms reach, close for me, alone in his space for him. He is still the same. He wants to sleep in our bed. But, he doesn't want us in it. While the other kids would not want to sleep without us, he would much rather be in our bed, and he is just fine you go find whatever empty slot there is, bed wise. All the better so he can toss and turn at will. He doesn't sprawl. Yeb still sleeps with his legs tucked under and his butt in the air. I love that. But, he doesn't want you, your blanket, arm or hair touching him while he sleeps. He will go to great lengths, apart from actually leaving the bed, to not be touching anyone, including just pushing you repeatedly in an effort to scoot further away.

While we have had many, many nights with a bed hog of one type or other, we never send a child away. We both know that all this...this glorious existence where we are the parents of small children, will be over all too soon. I hate that thought. I think all parents do. We've been incredibly blessed. We've been parents of small children far, far longer than most people these days. I'm still not ready for it to be over. So, when they come creeping into our room at night we never, ever send them away. We pull the covers back, tuck the bed hog between us. Ask them if they are scared. Check for temperatures, and snuggle them in. Tell them they are safe, mommy and daddy are right here. Breathe that magical scent of a small child. And are grateful for the long, sweaty, crowded night of nurturing a tiny soul who needs us that night. And thank God for the opportunity.

On Raising Teens...and a Comment About Day 13

I recently read a post on one of the blogs I enjoy very much, all about her methods of training up her small children, so that by the time they are teens, they were pretty much the people they were going to be forever. I think I would have to agree with some of what she said. Having raised two teens so far, and working on 1.5 more, currently, with lots of littles coming up, I have a few opinions on the matter. I think having one foot in the homeschool world, and one foot out, has given me a unique perspective. Some homeschooling families (we are one, so don't take it the way it sounds, please!), make such strict rules for their kids, especially the teenagers.(And yes, I know some families have no rules or raising up at all!) I just tend to think that being overly harsh, with many rules and restrictions isn't going to help your case as a parent. If you know you raised a good kid - then trust that you raised a good kid, i.e., the following:

1. I think forming them early is important. Manners mean more than just saying please and thank you. They teach respect for self and others. If you teach them manners and self control when they are young, they don't have to learn it when they are teenagers.
2. I truly think that the beginnings of respect for self and others stems from a love of the Lord. Teaching children about God's love for us gives them a sense of intrinsic self worth. It also teaches them that God loves all of His children. Now, I know that children will be children, and therefore make mistakes, but when a child knows and understands that we are here to know, love and serve God in this world, so that we can be with Him in the next, it will impact many of their choices, and certainly the important ones.
3. If you take the time to get to know your kids, and keep knowing them as they mature, then you will be able to guess what kind of choices they will make. My Meg, my 20 year old, is our wild child. While that may scare some parents, it has never really scared me. I know where she draws the line between wild child and just plain sinful and disrespectful. I am comfortable, if not always entirely happy, with where she draws her line. She has a firm foundation in her faith, and she will stand by it, and always base her decisions, most especially the bigger, more important decisions; on it. I think, knowing that, it is easy to know what choices she will make in most situations. I know I can trust her to make good decisions. Our other 20 year old, Liz is somewhat less the wild child, and I think her foundation in faith is even deeper than Meg's. I trust that she knows her heart and mind, and bases all decisions on the teachings of faith. I know that because I know she has been well formed in faith, by her own choosing.
4.It's our job as parents to make sure our kids have the tools to navigate the world, relationships, choices about life, love, schooling, careers, everything. If we have raised them well, taught them the God loves them, and that we love and value them, and gotten to know their hearts and minds, then it is time to trust them. Let them make their own choices. Of course, some of them will be the wrong choice, but that's how everyone learns. But, hard as we may try, we can't hang on to them forever.
5. Keep talking to your teens. Know them well, and make sure they know you have expectations of them, but don't rule them. If you lord over them, make too many choices for them, they will fight you. Instead, keep conversations going, but let them have some room to move.

So, teach your babies, mold your toddlers, shape your children and tweens. And then, when they become old enough to fly the coop once in a while  - let them. Guide them, but let them go! They will make the right choices because you taught them how. I think this was why our oldest girls really never had too many rules. They never needed them. They just didn't need them. They were always home on time, they never hung out with the "wrong crowd" unless they were trying to help or convert them in some way. They never abused our trust in them. When it came time for the big dances and things, they actually had to ask us when we wanted them home. It never occurred to us to give them a curfew - we ALWAYS knew where they were, and who they were with, but we never had to ask.  They had such good, good girls as friends.
Maybe we've gotten lucky with some really good kids, and I'm not going to say that a couple of the ones coming up aren't gonna give us a run for our money, but we're doing okay so far. I am really proud of the ones who've flown the coop so far, and the next one, my Kenzie, she's a doozy. This kid is a great kid. When it's her time to fly, I'll trust her, and know that she'll make excellent choices.

As for my Count Down - it's Day 13, and I think I was a present parent today. I played with babies, I tried not to be distracted, I got school done in a timely manner, even though my new PW book was calling my name all day! Kolbe and I read about Susan B. Anthony today. Now, she was my kind of lady. She fought for womens rights, but she never wanted women to lose our femininity. She was against abortion, and outspoken about it. She knew that motherhood was the epitome of femininity, and a woman's best chance at shaping our world. She fought for our daughters rights to vote, and to own land, but never to give up what it means to be a woman.

So my goal for Day 14? I want to expose my daughters to true femininity - grace, love of God, respect for self and others, the dignity that comes with being thought of as a "lady". My grandmother was always a lady, she carried herself well, was full of poise and dignity, and dressed to the nines, with a killer set of gams. If you throw in some of my Grandma Karcher's warmth and hugs, and ability to make great pie, I think you've found the perfect woman! I want my girls to know their great grandmothers just a bit better, so I want to tell them some stories, and hopefully, create a memory of each woman for them. My grandmother is still alive, my Nain, and my girls know her, but they don't remember her when she was a little younger. Maybe I can give them a little of her, and a little of Grandma Karcher.

My Last Little Girl

I have always loved little girls, with their pretty clothes, and hair ribbons and patent leather shoes. Okay, I'm totally in it for the clothes! Maybe it is a little like playing baby dolls when I was little. I loved dolls. I actually played with a doll until I was about 13 or so.

We have had four little girls. I missed Elizabeth's babyhood, but totally got my hair fix with that kid. She has amazing hair, and even as a little girl it was so, so thick and dark. I remember pouring water over her head while giving her a bath, and it would just roll right off. I used to love to brush and braid her hair, or put it up in a wreath around her head, or pigtails. So much fun.

When Meg and Liz were just little girls, I loved dressing them up to match - that often meant an exact match, or just coordinating outfits. They loved it at first, but when they found out that they were going to be sisters, they were none too keen on the idea of dressing alike! When Mackenzie came along I would hunt and shop until I had found three outfits that matched or coordinated. I loved showing them off and did whatever I could to enhance the "family unit" feel. Both of the big girls wanted to dress like Kenzie, so I got away with it for a little while longer. The matching thing was also for Elizabeth's benefit. I was worried that since she at that point still spent half of her time with her mom, she would feel left out. I hoped the outfits and the "sister" t-shirts and things helped her feel more apart of what was going on at our house. I never really knew if it made any impact, but I was new to the whole blended family thing.

When my little Jenna came along, after her brother Jonah, I was so excited to have a little girl again. For some silly reason I had thought we weren't going to have anymore babies (I have no idea why!) and gave most of Kenzie's things away. So shopping we went! Oh, the pink! And purple, and polka dots! And ribbons, and pretty little shoes. I really, really love it all so much. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that Jenna would be followed by four boys! I never ever imagined I would never get another little girl.

Never fear, I love my boys. They are awesome, and each one seems to have a tad more testosterone than the last. Kolbe is as manly as they get, Luke is a total beef cake, Ben is as hairy as all get out, and little baby Caleb already knows the sound of an engine when he hears one! Nothing delights him more than finding a matchbox car, or one of the ones that makes the engine noises.

So, Jenna is my last little girl. I am so thankful that she seems to really enjoy being a little girl. She loves Littlest Pet Shops, Barbie, her American Girl doll, dresses, getting her hair done, and all of that. She does not seem to be in any hurry to grow up, as Mackenzie was. She lets me braid her hair and loves it when I paint her fingernails any shade of pink she desires! If she is my last girl, she has been a wonderful little girl. She is so eager to please, and has the most tender heart. She prays every night for the unborn babies and all the survivors of whatever natural disaster she has heard of recently. I think she tries very hard to be holy, and I think God must be proud of her efforts. I know I am.

Maybe, someday God will decide that our family needs another little girl, whether by birth or adoption. (I am rooting for adoption - I am getting old!) But if He does, there is no WAY I am naming her Priscilla!

This girl

This girl has me. She has had me from the moment I laid eyes on her. Actually, she had me waaayyy before that night. I knew about her the instant she was. I just knew she was there. I was terrified. I was supposed to be a nice Catholic girl. I waited for 5 months to tell anyone about her. Actually, my mom guessed. She could see what was happening, though I had tried to pretend that my 115 pound self had suddenly ballooned out due to over eating. I pretended to overeat, trying to buy some time. We were going to tell everyone once we had a "plan". We were just having a really hard time coming up with the "plan". We were both in college. Part time jobs, no money. We thought about eloping and telling everyone when we got back. We thought about just telling everyone we were getting married, and then tell them about her. In the end we eloped, he left for the Navy, and then left us.

But, I had this girl. This amazing, perfect little girl. She and I used to sleep together every night. I loved having her cuddled up beside me, or on me. She used to sleep with her neck fitted across my throat. I'd wake up with wispy blond baby hair tickling my nose.

She was my side kick. She went everywhere with me. I transferred to a closer college so the commute would be easier. I found sitters for when I had to be in class, and she went with me to one of my jobs. On the weekends we would do whatever she wanted to do - watch Beauty and The Beast 752 times. Or read her beloved Dr. Suess books.

We fought a lot as she grew. She got sassy, and since she was homeschooled we often butted heads. She was messy and lazy and a smarty pants. She still is all of those things in a lot of ways.

She went to the public high school and sang, and acted and fell in love with choir and  theatre. I went to all of her concerts, musicals, plays, show choir. I loved every minute almost as much as she did. She was growing up to be a beautiful, talented young lady.

I was pregnant with our 9th child when she graduated from high school. It was surreal to be buying newborn items and dorm room stuff in one shopping trip. Thank goodness for Target!

I stared crying right around the time she was graduating. Granted, I had just given birth, but these tears were for her. I was so proud of her. I was mourning the loss of the little girl she used to be. I was dreading her moving out, away from me, even if it was only a short ways away. I was sad that her birth father had decided that this incredible person was not worth his time or interest. He missed a lot. Lucky girl, the man I married made her his daughter, and was there with me through every triumph and failure, every joy and sadness she ever experienced.

I finally quit crying about a month into her first semester. I still called way too often, but I was not crying anymore. Little did I know that she was missing home as much as we were missing her.  She was moving home at the end of the semester and would commute. I was so happy, I hardly knew if I should be so glad. I didn't want her to miss out on anything, but in the end she didn't like the 'antics' of the other girls in the dorm, or the fact that they never let her sleep.

So, she commutes every day, and at night sleeps in her own bed. She is messy, and leaves her trail behind her where ever she goes, which drives me nuts! If she is home she can almost always be found on her corner of the couch, with her pile of cups and plates, asleep, snuggled under the blanket all the kids fight over. I am so glad she is home, almost enough to not mind the mess. Almost. Neither one of us were quite ready for her to leave the nest.