Joseph is Nine

 Joe celebrated his ninth birthday on the 28th of November.  While I am late with this post, rest assured, we were on time on the actual day.  One of his requests was to have over one of his best friends, Chadd.  Chadd is one of the greatest kids I know.  He's cheeky in all the right ways and faces life and its attendant difficulties with tremendous grace and spunk.

 He's also a devoted Leafs fan.  Our family cheers solely for the Senators, thus, a friendly rivalry is a constant source of ribbing.  Chadd's parents started the sledge hockey league in our town so that Chadd would not miss out on being a hockey player.  Their initiative ensured that our boys as well wouldn't miss out on playing hockey.  They have played in the league for three years now and winter Saturday evenings are spent loading up the equipment and playing two hours on ice.  Whenever I see Chadd, I don't see disability; instead, I see what a big yes to life results in - not the suffering predicted by an ultrasound, but the joy and true humanity produced by the yes of Chadd's parents.

 And here is our nine year old yes to life.  I always joke that Joe willed his own conception, as he really is our only surprise baby.  I remember a good friend asking how we discerned having a fourth child.  I answered, "Well, discerning is easy when you are already pregnant."

 Joe's life is part of God's grand design - one of surprises, joy and unexpected happiness.  Indeed, Joe's name means "God adds to the family".

He certainly has added to our family life, and, I suspect, to that of many others.  Last night was the kids' school Christmas concert.  Joe was less than excited at the selection of songs by his teacher.  He stood two students away from her on stage, with a huge smile partially hidden by the songbook that he was using to hide his face.  Afterward, his teacher (a woman who appreciates spunk as a sign of great character) told me that Joe whispered to her as the performance began, "You couldn't have chosen something a little better?"  I could see her trying to keep her composure for the rest of the song.  God bless dear Joe because God has certainly blessed us with him.

An antidote to the fussy baby

 The boys discovered a few months ago that the best antidote to Mariana's crying is to let her play the piano.

While she is not a particularly fussy baby, she does spend a lot of time in the care of a sibling sitting at the piano.

Joe is very talented with younger children - babies and on up.  The younger lot seem to sense his love of fun, and he is very responsible when caring for those younger than him.  When visiting friends, he often finds himself carrying their baby around or letting their toddler wrestle with him on the floor.

This open-piano trick belongs to Joe alone.  His little sister delights in it.  There is something especially touching about a boy and his baby.

The Bottom Three

 Sorry for the blurriness, but it helps to demonstrate the movement captured by this photo.  At ten months Mariana began to officially walk.  She had taken her first steps at nine months; but, as Dave says, first steps aren't real walking.  (He's a stickler on this one.)  Real walking begins when walking is chosen as the primary mode of ambulation.  She is our youngest walker by far.  I tend to agree with those who comment that the age when a child first walks has far more to do with temperament than with physical ability.  Our three calmest children were all very late walkers; yet, two of them are by far the most gifted runners among the seven.  Our earliest walkers are our feistiest personalities; they tend toward meltdowns and drama and they have little patience when trying to achieve a goal.  Thus, they grew tired of crawling very quickly and stood up on two feet and walked as soon as possible.  Falls and mishaps don't bother them in the slightest; they see the bigger picture - that they have joined the world of the taller people.

 Heavy winter coats tend to impede the early walker.  Poor Mariana stood up in this coat and immediately fell backward due to the weight of her hood.  She also found the real shoes (not leather slippers) a little difficult.

 Sarah's one of our later walkers, but she's still pretty feisty.  Despite her zest for life, she is a very peaceful and calm little girl.  In fact, she seems to possess a rare gift - that of being a really good friend.  I find this fascinating to watch at such a young age.  She understands how to play with others while simultaneously holding her own and yielding to the other.  Gift, indeed.

 Her fist did not make contact with Mariana's face.

 I couldn't resist taking photos on this day.  It was mid-October and unusually cold, however the light was so perfect that even iPhone photos turned out fantastic.

 Isaac and the everlasting Crocs.  He has two pairs of running shoes, but he consistently chooses the easy way out - the Croc.  I'm going to have to hide them before the snow flies.  (And now that the snow has flown, the Crocs have been officially dumped.)

 For the sake of cuteness:  two Marianas.

Overheard

Jacob and a few of the other kids have imbibed of my feelings toward winter.  Looking at the freshly fallen snow, Jacob lamented:  "How can white make you feel so blue?"

Ben, Joe and Jacob were discussing their futures over dishes the other night.  Jacob asked Ben how many children he would like to have.
Ben responded, "Eight."
To which Jacob further prodded, "How many boys and how many girls?"
"Four of each," replied Ben.
"Let me guess," I piped in, "Are their names Jacob, Hannah, Benjamin, Joseph, Isaac, Sarah, Mariana and, I don't know, Sammy?"  (Sammy is our dog.)
At this point, Joseph felt the need to speculate on his future:  "I'm having three kids.  Any more is just too hard.  In fact, if my wife has four, I will die in childbirth."
We then dared to ask the names of these three lucky children:  "Jonah, John and a feisty little girl on the end, Joanne."  Have mercy.

Isaac prayed a morning offering the other day.  Part of this prayer is, "Lord, use me today for your glory."  Rather, I heard the following:  "Lord, use me today for your goalie."  Fair enough.

Sarah, after she found out that what we were having for supper was not to her liking, "Mom, can you and dad please go out for supper."

Mariana, every time she hears the phone ring or someone yell from a different room:  "Yeah?"

Flight School

The oldest four had the chance to spend a Saturday morning in October at the small private airport in Pembroke.  They took part in a brief flight school and then spent 30 minutes in the air.

Many of their homeschooled friends were there and sessions ran from 9 in the morning until 2 in the afternoon.

Ben was asked to take the controls, but he politely declined.  Jacob was also offered a chance at the controls, but responded that he valued his life too much.

Joseph, on the other hand, happily took control and still made it down in one piece and in comradely relationship with the pilot.

Isaac's Field Trip

I have made a concerted effort over the past few years to try to make it to as many field trips as I can. Around four years ago, I realized that if I waited until the babies were all grown, I would never accompany my older children on a field trip. Thus, I bit the bullet and figured out how to attend these days away from school with the baby in toe.  My key is that I drive to the field trip (rather than take the bus) and I ask permission regarding bringing other children.  I also make sure that I am not in charge of any smaller groups as an official volunteer.  So far I have attended two field trips this year with plans for more.

This was Isaac's field trip to an outdoor education centre called Shaw Woods.  It was freezing that day and I was glad that Mariana was dressed so warmly.  (If only her mother had been!)  One of the funny things about these trips is that the baby I bring along always becomes an exhibit.  The stroller is mobbed by grade-schoolers who coo over one so young.  One girl asked me a few years ago how many children I had.  When I told her, she responded, "I didn't know a woman could have so many children."

Mariana was a dream that day.  She slept on the drive there and slept again once we arrived back home.  And so did I.

Isaac prepping to go bug hunting:  always pretty happy, unless he's pretty sad...

A backlog of posts

 Well, it's been a while, hasn't it?  I have a lot of catching up to do on the blog, so I will start with the end of September.  The Partridge Race - what can I say?  This 30 year old race has been held in a hamlet very close by for the last three decades.  The school in that hamlet closed two years ago and the race would have gone the way of all things if Dave hadn't volunteered to take the helm and bring it to St John Bosco.  Although I knew what a mammoth production hosting this race would be, I was completely supportive.  In the final analysis, the Partridge Race occupied some of our summer and much of our September.  Turns out that hosting (and feeding) over 300 runners and their cheering fans is a lot of work.  To end with a cliche:  but it was all worth it.

 My good friend Sarah babysat Mariana for the day so that I could be at the race site from start to finish.  I wore a few hats, but I was able to be at the finish line for all the kids as they came through the finishing chute.  Amusingly, that chute was constructed of electric fencing from the farm.  No, it wasn't turned on.  By the way, that headless man on the chair is Dave as he announces the top three finishers in each race.  Jacob came third in the Gr. 8 Boys 1600 m.  I was so proud of him as he has trained hard for months and over the past few years he has moved from sixth place up to third place.  I almost cried when I saw him come across that finishing line only a second behind the top two runners.  Jacob was very happy with himself.  "A fine end to gr. 8,"  he chirped.

Hannah has placed in the top three consistently for the past few years.  However, this year was her year and she won both the gr. 8 Girls 1600m as well as the open 3000m.  One of the highlights of her 1600m race was that the top three girls were all from Bosco.  How nice to watch girls who have been together since kindergarten cross the line one after another.

 Ben and Joe were both in the gr. 4-5 boys 1600 m race.  Ben was a shoe-in for first place, but cramped up badly and finished third.  Amazingly, dear Joe with his arm in a cast came sixth.  He later told me that he had an unfortunate encounter with a stick on the course and had to pull it out of his cast before he could resume running!  Ben later ran the boys open 3000m and placed fifth against boys in gr. 7 and 8.  Indeed, he was only one spot behind Jacob who placed fourth.  We were very, very proud.

 And then came Isaac.  We knew that this boy had winning potential, but his training hadn't shown what he could do.  He is, after all, only six, and, being six, his strategy was to run super fast and then walk all the training runs.  I told him that on race day I was sure that he could be a winner if he made sure to stay ahead of everyone and didn't let anyone pass him.  I also promised him 30 minutes of iPad time if he placed.  Shameless and hyper-competitive, I know.  As soon as he came out of the woods, his siblings ran next to the fencing cheering and coaching him on.  He crossed that line and immediately hunted me down looking for his iPad time.

Hannah received the Outstanding Female Athlete trophy for her first place finish in the 3000.  The funny part of that story was that Dave had picked up the newly engraved trophy the day before and left it on his desk awaiting the race day.  Two boys in his class decided that tossing the trophy between them might be a fun activity.  Hannah warned them that what they were doing was very unwise and that the trophy was going to get broken.  (Can you see how this ends?)  Sure enough, down went the trophy and crack went the hardware.  The principal took the matter in hand:  boys in the main office and the trophy with one of the EAs who jerry-rigged it with hot glue.  When the boys saw what they had done, they and a few others told Hannah that it she had to win the 3000m as we couldn't give a broken trophy to another school.  And now the flawed trophy sits in Hannah's room next to the one that she received last year.

The other humorous race anecdote had to do with the point system.  Each of the top three runners earns a certain amount of points towards their school's point count.  Reviewing the points at the end of the day, we realized that if our kids had run as the Afelskie School, our family would have placed third against the other 8 schools.   There are strategic advantages to having seven children.

Mariana's First Birthday

 Joe was assigned the role of photographer on this momentous day.  He started with a selfie.

 My mom was with us for the week and thankfully made a cake for Mariana.  I was on week one of a candida cleanse and wasn't feeling that well.  Mariana was suitably confused by the cake and candle, but was delighted by the singing.

 Like all one year olds, she tried to reach for the candle.

 I think there is a photo from every single birthday in which a non-birthday sibling is looking devastated in the background.

 Another shout out to my mom who provided Mariana's solitary present:  a hand knit sweater and hat.  I have given up buying gifts for our children under three.  The gift usually becomes another piece of junk to be thrown away.  However, gifts like a hand knit sweater set provide much more than just warmth; they are a product of love and a family keepsake.

 She really didn't want her photo to be taken and was determined to stay on the move.

 She briefly settled on Hannah's lap before breaking free for the living room.

Dear Mariana, how we love you.  Your first year was a rough one for our whole family.  Your birth came the day before your paternal grandmother received a terminal diagnosis of cancer.  Consequently, your first three months were spent in a juggle of daddy away on the weekend looking after grandma, while mommy solo-parented.  You were tongue-tied and feeding you was never very easy:  nursing, pumping and formula.  But, there was grace, so much grace.   You were one of those great graces.  As we said goodbye to Grandma Anne, we welcomed you, her namesake.  We named you Mariana and found out two weeks later that your name was that of a saint who is the patron saint of those whose parents are dying.  Your birth was marked by grace and your first year continues to be filled with the very life of God within us.   I have no doubt that your Grandma Anne is praying for you.
You might spend more time being toted from place to place than did your siblings; you sometimes get lost within the chaos - "Does anybody know where the baby is?" - but, oh, how you are loved.  Your siblings wait with anticipation for you to wake up in the morning.  They compete for which one of them you love the most, and there is always a set of willing arms to carry you around like a princess.  I often reflect on how secure you must feel to be so truly loved by so many. Your father has softened immeasurably over the years and, for the first time in 14 years, I see him truly treasuring the baby years.  You, my little one, are the recipient and the catalyst of that love.  I hope you always feel like the lucky number 7 that you are.  (I also hope that you one day reclaim your hat from your older sister.)

Sarah and Hannah

Both Sarah and Hannah draw constantly.  Sarah, at the tender age of four, is filled with natural self-confidence and remarked, while comparing her drawing with that of her older sister,
"My drawings are always better than Hannah's, Mom."
"Are they?"  I absently responded.
"Because," and here is the decisive factor, "mine have teeth."

I had forgotten

 I'd forgotten about these particularly maddening stages of babyhood:  The absolute delight in finding the dog's food and water every single morning.

 How could you possibly be upset with me, Mom?  (Rebecca, something about Mariana's eyes reminds me of Miriam.  What do you think?)

 The "open the drawer and pull everything out and then leave really fast" stage.  She's days shy of 11 months and I already know that if she's too quiet, I need to worry.

That's why God makes babies so darn cute:  we can't help but put up with them!  I just heard the faint sound of the bottom row of the bookshelf being torn apart - total baby glee.

September

 September always brings back-to-school for us.  Since this means that most of the children plus Dave go back to school, it is a bit of a colossal undertaking.  Truthfully, I find it quite hard when they all leave.  I really enjoy the summers.  However, I imagine that my enjoyment is significantly aided by the fact that my husband is a teacher and is here full-time in the summers.
This year, Isaac requires a family photo for the bulletin board outside of his classroom.  The last family portrait we had taken was three years ago.  I tried to find an adequate photo, but all I could come up with was the above.  Not knowing how to photoshop, I also printed off a photo of Mariana and cut her out in an attempt to add her in.  Unfortunately, I chose a photo of Mariana that, when printed, made her the same size as Isaac.  (Except she was wearing a onesie and looked like she was flying.)  We tried all sorts of positions, but Dave wouldn't allow a flying baby emerging from behind the van to be displayed on the gr. 1 bulletin board.

 This was far too sad for me.  How did Sarah get to school-age?  She is so happy and excited to be attending school; although she tells people that she sometimes stays home because Mommy misses her too much.  I asked her whom I would play princesses with when she was gone.  She sized up Mariana and then suggested that "someone at some house somewhere" would maybe play with me if I asked.  I have a good friend in Cobden who told me I could bring my tiara with me when I come for tea.

 More growing up.  She can stand on her own and take five steps.  She is only ten months.

 And she is so incredibly proud of herself.  Let me tell you, having seven children doesn't mean that any of this grows old.  The first smiles, laughs, crawls and walks seem to get better with every child.  I think this is partly because the older siblings are equally delighted by the progress made by the baby.  Beautiful.

 Amazingly, this is only our second broken bone in the family.  The first was Jacob's six years ago.  Somehow it doesn't surprise me that the second broken bone belongs to Joseph.

 That's right:  oops.  Maybe flipping off of monkey bars isn't such a great idea.  I told him that he could have done a lot worse than just a broken arm.  Joe is a bit of a dramatist, so when he arrived home with a slightly swollen and painful arm, I told him that we would wait and watch.  I couldn't see any bruising or find a bump, so I really thought that he had just strained it.  24 hours later when I was blessing him at bedtime, I checked again.  This time the swelling had gone down enough that I could feel a bump just above the wrist.  Dave grabbed a Coke and took Joe over to the ER at 9:30pm. We anticipated a long night.  However, there were no other patients and Joe was home by 11pm with a cast - even earlier than his sister who babysat until after midnight.  But that's another story.

 Grandma Anne's headstone finally arrived.  We stopped in for a visit the other evening.  Ben and Jacob were sleeping over at the farm, so we only had five children with us.  This headstone makes me smile:  neither Dave, his sister or his father could ever tell me the date of Mike and Anne's wedding.  Instead they would say that it was the May long weekend.  But, now, here it is immortalized on their gravestone.  I never have to wonder again!  As an aside, can you spot the grammatical error?

Batgirl.  Yes, I know she looks a bit boyish, but her brothers are always delighted when I put her in this shirt.  I think we know what she will be wearing for Hallowe'en.  I'll make sure to pair it with pink pants.