M.I.A.

To the man who stole the three oldest away early this morning and still hasn't returned, who taught Mildred how to make cheesy scrambled eggs on the stovetop and fruit shakes in the blender all by herself so I find one lone little girl busily whipping up breakfast, who is blind to messes but who cleaned the whole house squeaky-clean for his hospital-bound wife who can't help but notice them, to the man who indulges and disciplines and gives, who is often more tender and patient than I am, who is not perfect but who fills the role of Papa so well, Happy Father's Day.

I love you, and your Hope, Delight, Songbird, and Littlest Pip do, too.

Unpoetic Prelude

I could be, should be, would be in bed, but for a little Bright Eyes who likes to peer around and squeak this time of night. Thank you all so much for your prayers throughout this pregnancy, for your kindness during it, and for your rejoicing with us on the safe appearance of Piper in the Great Big World. We are glad our thanksgiving and joy finds a counterpart in this space!

I've exchanged snapshot-ing for gardening of late, and after much scowling, lots of sweat, muttered grumbling, and absolutely no romantic odes to green and growing in the 90-odd degree sun, I finished late this afternoon. It's three weeks late, but, hey, a baby's better than a timely sown garden any day...

Oh, yes, that baby!
Here's the sweetest thing we grow around these parts.

Asleep

I said I've neglected snapshot-ing, which is true, but I made up for lack of frequency with sheer volume the two times I took pictures of our Pipsqueak.

I took these because I wanted to remember what she was like when she was this bony, this asleep, and this naked. I apologize for the similarity of them all. It's hard to stop taking pictures of a sweet, sleeping baby.

Outside Like Inside

When she's on her belly, she curls her legs tightly under her. On her back, she bends one leg perpendicular, like an old man sitting in the shade. Almost always, though, she has at least one hand against her face, just like she did when she was inside of me. Sometimes when she mews in the night, it's because her hand is bound inside the blanket. I free it, she brings it to her face, and she immediately falls back into peaceful rest.

To Market, To Market

Although the perspective of many of these snapshots makes her seem bigger than she really is, she does have awfully big feet. (Though they're not a bit awful...)

Pickpocket

Of course I didn't leave out her tiny, little hands-- tiny, thieving, little hands with long fingers. Ring thief!

Two More

Just because I thought the snapshots wouldn't be complete without giving you a baker's dozen.

Awake

A few nights ago when I remembered that we'd taken one solitary picture of her with her eyes open, I rushed to the waning window light to take these funny pictures. I barely fit her in the frame in some of them, but my arm just wouldn't stretch any more.


She began with the pursed mouth face, which I love.


Then she realized she was hungry.



So she thought about her options.



And did her best to reach her goal.



And tried some more, with pointing.



What gives?!? This woman is too busy taking pictures to build my belly!!!



She sampled her hand, but it wasn't tasty.



She displayed such pathos in her defeat that I took pity immediately.

Bear With Me

And some faces in black and white, which lends them a touch of gracious class.






Except for this one. Even converting it to black and white doesn't make her less silly. WHAT GIVES?!?

Miscellany

Here are the other pictures on the camera; between Piper's two massive photo shoots, they were just barely able to squeeze in.

Flush-faced Millie climbs UP the fire pole for the third or fourth time on a nearly 100-degree day. I don't understand...



John douses the girls with water on another scorcher.







I rest with Piper. (Yes, I'm paler than the moon, but give me a few weeks and several painful sunburns, and I'll be a bit more pink than pale.)



Resting some more. Same shirt; different day. (Snapshot by John.)


John took Mildred and Annika out on a day-long date, and Susannah stayed home to bond with me.

She painted.



and she watered some plants. (The poor girl didn't know she got the bitter end of the bargain, either.)



To cap it off, here again is our star, yawning. (Note the one leg perpendicular. I told you she does that on her back!)

Joined

With Papa


And with Mama



She fits into family like she's never been anywhere else, and it's already hard to remember what life was like without her.
We love you, Piper Joy.

Pipsqueak Stats and Gory Information

Born: Sunday, June 1st, 12:36 p.m.

Weight: 4 lb., 12 oz. (Plump compared with my hopes for a four-pounder!)

Length: Good question. She was 18 and 1/4" today, so I bet she was about that last Sunday.

Gory Information: After a gorgeous day on Saturday, John and I were up late watching a movie in the bedroom when I suddenly lost a lot of blood. We sped to the ER, and since I hadn't felt Buster move since the initial rush of red, I was hugely relieved when they determined that most of the blood was mine and not hers. The bleeding continued more slowly but steadily through the night, and the next morning my doctor threw us a c-section party. He didn't want to risk transferring me to a nearby hospital with a full NICU because he was afraid the jolts would cause a catastrophe before we got there, so he opted for transfer after the birth if Buster was in distress.

God is so good. The placenta was easily removed, I had only an average amount of bleeding during the caesarean, and Buster didn't lose enough blood to go into serious trauma. Although she had to wear glorified Tupperware over her head for the first day and a half of her life before being placed into an even larger Tupperware box, she thrived. On Sunday night, I was able to go to the nursery and stroke her knobby knee. Late Monday night, she was taken off the oxygen, and I held her close and nursed her for the first time. On Tuesday, the moniters were snipped. On Wednesday, her IV was removed, she was transferred from the isolette to a regular bassinet, and John was able to hold her for the first time. On Thursday afternoon, we busted out of the place!

My doctor removed my staples on Tuesday morning and was willing to discharge me early. This is the first (and hopefully only) time that I gladly chose to stay the full sentence! I felt like myself by Tuesday, apart from the nasty spinal headache I developed, but even this headache was a blessing. Because of it, I was given free meals and a room for the night only slightly further down the hall from Buster after my Wednesday discharge, instead of crashing in the lounge as I had planned to do.

I am thankful for too many things to recount here. After the c-section, my doctor told me about two women who had just lost their babies due to placenta previa, and my empathy for them mingled with my joy for us. God not only brought Piper safely into our arms, but He did so with a minimal amount of worry. Each day, I was impatient and tempted to snatch her from the plastic and bring her home, and this with only a five day stay in the hospital. During constant restiveness, I remembered my brother and sister-in-law talking about meeting other parents at the NICU in Philadelphia during Gussy's one-month stay. I was abashed at my impatience with all things well.

Events like this distill self in both painful and startlingly good ways. I don't understand the mysteries of life and death, but while lying on the hospital bed Saturday night, bleeding my way into Sunday morning-- holding my belly and my breath while waiting for a kick or two-- I saw with sharp and unpleasant clarity my failings and weakness. There are times when it is impossible to dismiss or ignore one's nature. Arrogance, pride, cruelty, selfishness, presumption, resentment, and more were all strung out in front of me, stark and obvious like clothes on the line.

It's necessary to be struck down by one's need like this, because the only Balm waits beside us. The good comes after, when one has relinquished those sins again to the Christ who drenched them with His scarlet blood and sorrow. I sat in the nursery rocking Piper in my arms, singing her newly-made lullaby, whispering truths that I forget so easily, whispering to us both over and over again, "Remember this." Her beauty literally caught at my throat. The simplicity of life pierced me through, life inscrutably poured into the bones and scrawny sinews of Piper Joy, who was finally out and whose shallow breath warmed the skin beneath my breastbone. "This is life," I thought, "This is living. Remember this."

I pray that if things had gone differently, I would still be thankful, that I would still state, "God is so good," but I am small and weak. God is good. He was good when He chose to preserve our Wombkin, but He would have been no less good if He had allowed her and us to struggle with more than simple impatience. May He strengthen us at all times. Praise be His name.

Remember this.

While Incarcerated

Here are a few pictures of Piper in the hospital.

Sunday night. (Doesn't she look chubby here?)



Tuesday


On Wednesday, with a smile about to split my face in two.


Mulling over names and how marvelous her little features are.


Happy! Smiling! We're coming home! Tired! Happy! Tired! HAPPY!

Father to Four

On Wednesday, John was finally allowed to hold Piper. She was as yet unnamed, and as we marveled over her with a list of potential names beside us, she fit herself right into Piper Joy. Hello, Piper Joy. Meet your loving Papa.

One & Five

She slips so small into our arms, but she would dwarf a truly tiny preemie.

Candy Stripes

She's cute enough to eat. (Her big sisters certainly think so.)









And Grandma J. offers no arguments to the contrary, either.

Remnant

I forgot to post these.

Freshly home.




In Deb's arms the next day.

For Tori, With Thanks

There is, truly, a good reason for posing this sweet baby with lemonheads. She was sent home with a biliblanket and lit the room like Kryptonite. When I nursed her that night, it gave me a headache and made me laugh. I called her Little Lemonhead, explaining to her as I did so that they're a favorite candy. The next day, I opened a box from all the way out West (thank you, Tori!), and was delighted to find not only a box stuffed with Fuzzi Bunz (YES! FUZZI BUNZ!) but also with Laffy Taffy and lemonheads. I have no idea how you did it, but you achieved perfect timing with that package. (The lemonheads are long gone, but the Fuzzi Bunz will join the smaller AIO diapers Titi made me for Susannah. When I use cloth, her little bottom will be swathed like no other!)

For Spike. Again.

The back steps one evening. (Regrettably, no Scrooge in hand this time...)




And Susannah even squeezed in later, a comic (albeit, an upside-down comic), in tow.

Free Trade Agreement

Candida and Mildred have a new obsession. They trade off stuffed animals, dolls, costumes, and whatever else strikes their fancy, and after enjoying a new item for a few days, they trade back.

Here Millie reads about and searches for bugs in the backyard while wearing one of Candida's costumes.

S'mores Indoors, or War Paint

The lighting's rotten, but I took this pictures without her knowledge, before I scolded gently instructed her on proper s'mores enjoyment.

35 Weeks

I had the best of intentions for a 35-week photo shoot, especially considering I'd already gained 40 pounds and thought it was likely that I'd strike a new record. Alas, the closest I came was this hastily snapped shot in the Barnes and Noble bathroom the day before Piper came into the world. Apologies.


And here's Susannah, about to embark on a journey across the parking lot with John after he dropped me, Millie, and Annie off for storytime.



She takes her umbrella holding seriously.

Impressionable

Be mindful of what you read to children. While at Barnes and Noble, I read the girls A Baby Sister for Frances, in which Frances runs away (under the table in the next room) and eats, among other things, chocolate sandwich cookies. I don't think Millie quite understands what chocolate sandwich cookies are, because when we got home, she immediately began cheerful preparations to run away. Chief among these preparations was, with Papa's permission, the construction of "chocolate sandwich cookies" for herself and the other girls. Whole wheat bread spread with peanut butter, spread thickly with chocolate chips and raisins, and microwaved until warm and melty.

Millie ran away to the pinecone tree and ate her sandwich there. The other two ate theirs on the porch. They all assured me that I would love them, but I still held back...

Last Pre-Buster Zoo Visit

Almost all pictures feature Susannah because we walked slowly and took plenty of rests while the others rushed ahead with John.





The ducks. (Yup. We went to the zoo, and I offer you a lackluster picture of the ducks. Fierce!)



Girls on a red bench. Millie makes me laugh.



The wind cloth only briefly distracted her from the main temptation-- lollipops!



The interminable wait for the carousel.

Grounded

At the zoo playground, they stole all the fun while I sat at the bottom of the slide.

Zaelos

John told me to take a picture of this for you, Joel Done of Ham, so though you don't frequent these parts, here you go.

Dear Sherlock

Please help me solve this mystery. About two weeks ago, we came home to find a gift bag hanging on our doorknob. Since my nephew Nicholas had recently been born and lives next door to us, I thought maybe the gift was for him. No card or note was included with the bag, but this beautiful set was inside. If anyone knows for sure if this was for Buster, let me know! I'd love to use it on her this winter, but I still wonder if it was placed on the wrong doorknob.


Very Truly Yours,
Unsure and Bemused

Yum

The girls frequently take my order if they're in the cooking mood at their kitchen set. Annika recently asked what kind of pizza I would like--"Pepperoni, Tomato, or Spicy Earthworm?" Repulsed and fascinated by the third choice (and mightily curious about what it could be), I asked for the Spicy Earthworm.

This is what I got.

For Balance

I've shown off Millie's progress with reading, but I now show that I haven't worked with her on spelling or penmanship like I should.

Case in point:
A banner she hurriedly made for John one night.








A PIWOD??!!!?! I laugh every time I read it. She's such a sweetheart, but I probably should teach her how to spell "picture."

Last Pre-Buster Laundromat Visit

Her eyes are red and puffy because, contrary to the grin, she spent almost the entire time both weeping and wailing.



As always, who needs quarters when there's no charge for pressing buttons?

And this one could have used a good spin cycle herself...those feet!!!!

The Clothesline Shouts

...that we've a houseful of girl-children.

Cream

We've consumed more ice cream in the last two weeks than we have proper food. This is not a joke, though I kind of wish it was.

The occasion for our first ice cream outing was the opening of the area's free carousels. Here's Annie on her first ride of the season, though the girls have been on a dozen already since then.




And here's the post-carousel cream.





The spotlight's on Susannah because she took so long to finish her cone, and John took the older girls on a walk while I waited.

With a nod to our neighborhood Friendly's, I post this picture. This past Friday, Friendly's handed out giant ice cream cones for free. Free ice cream? We were there in a flash.

Piper Joy

(This is only a teaser post placed here by a proud papa upon the birth of his 4th daughter. A full post from the proper owner of this blog is sure to follow once A&P are safely home and settled in. Be patient.)

At a Young and Tender Age

I came upstairs after John had tucked the girls into bed to see a suspicious glow seeping through the crack in the bedroom door. There Millie sat, oblivious to me and all else, reading Scrooge and Disney comic books in her top bunk while her sisters dozed below. This clandestine affair, of course, was conducted with Papa's full sanction and great delight. She's a girl in whom his blood flows swiftly.

With a Bump

She flies down to an inauspicious end.

Sugar Delight

I'm not one for anticipating Mother's Day, though with all the advertising hooplah, it's sometimes hard not to in spite of deciding this. Expectation for the extraordinary most often leads to dissatisfaction with the ordinary, which, though ordinary, is no less full of beauty and the extra-ordinary if one is open to see it. It's just harder to see when you're looking for something Other.

Mother's Day was ordinary and good and full of dishes and girls to wash. We went to church, we came home and lounged, John blessed me by washing the morning's dishes, making lunch, and grocery shopping so that I wouldn't have to do it after the next day's sonogram, and things whirred along very much As Usual.

That is, until Millie whispered to John, and he smiled and said, "Go ahead! Maybe Mom can help you." Millie immediately ran outside, returning with two fistfuls of freshly picked lilacs ("for Mother's Day, even though I give you some every day," said she). When she donned the chef's hat we'd picked up for free from an ended garage sale the day before, I knew I was in trouble. I was banished to the living room, and she proceeded to order the younger two about like a chef on fire. "Bring me honey-brownsugar-marshmallows-raisins-
crispricecereal-water-and so it went until 20 minutes later, they'd single-handedly created a a bowlful of Love For Mother and a gooey mess in the kitchen I'd just finished cleaning.








Millie named her creation aptly. "It's called Sugar Delight, Mama," she said with sticky lips, and we scooped out some for all of us. Buster ate a double portion.






Overheard in the frenzy of culinary creation:

"My recipe needs a tad of salt," Millie muttered as she retrieved the GIANT CARTON of salt from the cupboard and began to tip it toward the bowl. I did briefly step in at this point to hand her a small salt shaker, but only for the sake of the dish's integrity.

"Since I'm the cook, I'm giving them special treats." (This gleefully said as she stuffed the faces of her loyal--no wonder!-- minions with marshmallows and chocolate chips.)

What I'm ashamed of is that after thanking, hugging, and kissing their beaming faces...AND eating a small bowl of Sugar Delight, I had to go outside for some quiet in which to adjust my rotten perspective before I came in to clean the kitchen again. Motherhood allows such joy in the form of children, and I was short-sighted and shallow enough to wish that it had also come in the form of a sparkling kitchen and a lazy mama. When I see, really see, what this calling of motherhood is-- what lies beneath, beside, between, all around, and stuffed in the ordinary cracks of each day-- I am utterly smitten by the glorious truth. It's all too easy to see the common tasks that each day resurrects from the day before, but these are nothing. They're only the minor trappings of a worthy and beautiful life, one with a value that endures, with God's preservation, to and through the end of our lives and the lives of our children and their children's children.

Look at the pride on this girl's face. It's a look worth more than ten million Hallmark Mother's Days, and God has heaped John and I with blessings. May He give us the grace to raise them rightly so that they go forth in joy to live His truth.



I've posted the recipe for this gooey goodness on buildabelly.
Have at it!