5 short years

Yes, I know I have stuff to do. I know that I just blogged a bit ago, and promised to GET STUFF DONE around my house. I also know that I have an hour to go on my WIP. But really, this is MY blog, and I have to do this one before I can do anything else today.

I was thinking about the past five years, in my life, in my family, and in the world. Five years ago, it was May of 2001. We had been living in central Virginia for less than a year. I'd finally agreed to marry Shane, and had done so just 6 months before. We owned a house, and had two kids in school. We'd just had our baby, Emile. That's what is making me consider these last five years.

The world was pre-9/11. Terrorism was something that happened to other people in other countries. I was settling in to being a stay-at-home mom, after spending 10 years as a Cryptologist in the navy. I'd lived and worked in some amazing places, seen some amazing things, and really enjoyed my life. However, I missed out on a lot of stuff with my babies. Staying home was a way to make it up to them, but really it was me being selfish. I MISSED them, and missed so much of their young lives while I was out doing what I thought was SO IMPORTANT. I'd done a deployment, I'd worked a CN mission. I'd spent 3 years of my life at the pinnacle of cryppie-land, Ft Meade (Aka, The National Security Agency). Then it was time to be a mom. Being a mom was harder than I'd expected. Spending my first year at home with my kids, pregnant, had been really hard.

Five years ago, my mom was still alive. It's hard to type that sentence without tears coming to my eyes. Damn. Not hard. Totally impossible. Yep, my eyes are leaking. geez, I hate it when I get emotional. But really, I just miss my mom. Back then, she came out when Emile was only a few weeks old, and took the older girls, Gretchen and Jordan, for a few weeks. She was always doing stuff like that. She loved my kids so much, and really was an excellent Grandma, even though she preferred to be called KK. She just didn't think she was old enough to be anyone's "grams".

Anyhow, five years ago, the world was different. Kelly had just given birth a second time. I didn't get to be there for that one. I was there the first time, she was my first doula client. I didn't know what a doula was back then, but that's what I was for her. I loved helping her bring her first child into the world, just like she helped me with my first son, Michael. The second time was hard for her. She had a C-section, and almost lost her daughter. All worked out in the end, but I still felt bad for not being there. Plus, Emile was born first, when she was due a week later. Kel was a little ticked about that. Obviously, she got over it. :>)

This morning, when I woke up, my baby was in bed with me. She asks, every single night, if she can sleep with us. Normally, the answer is no. But once a week or so, she's allowed. Last night, she looked up at her Daddy, and said "I REALLY want to wake up next to Momma on my birthday". Yep, he was toast. So this morning, after he'd left, I got to lay there and stare at the beauty that is my baby. She is really the most incredibly beautiful 5 year old in the entire world. She has my coloring, but better. It's this perfect blend of copper and rosy pink. She doesn't burn, she gets golden. Her skin really glows. She has dark lashes that are about a mile long. They frame her ocean blue eyes to perfection. I really thought Maggie would get those eyes, because Maggie is the one that looks like Shane. But no, Emile, my baby, finally brought me the blue eyes that I'd wanted forever. The rest of the clan has my chocolate brown eyes, all beautiful, but not blue. But the baby, yep, she's got the baby blues. She also has dimples. And this incredible, long hair. It doesn't really have a color. It's not brown, not blonde, but somewhere in between. It looks like honey, but with golden streaks. Really, people pay big bucks to get hair like this child.

I love each and every one of my children with an intensity that terrifies me. I have no idea how I would breathe if anything ever happened to any of them. I don't have a favorite, not really. I think that each of them is my favorite at different times during each and every day. Gret is my oldest, and she's been with me through so much. I love her in a way that makes me want to make all the right choices for her. But then again, I want her to go out and experience things for herself. She's so much like me, but still so her own person. Michael is my oldest boy. He is so sure of himself. He's so honest, and believes so much in justice. He's the one I count on to give it to me straight. If he says it, I believe it. He just has so much integrity for one so young. I know that may change, but for now, he seems like a super-hero to me. So right and true. Jordan is the peacekeeper. She tries to be so grown up. She's the one who spends her own money to buy her siblings birthday presents. I always know she'll have a little something for whoever is celebrating. She pours my coffee in the morning. She rubs my feet. She's the one I can always count on to pitch in and help without complaint. Mathew is the joker. That boy can make me laugh like no other person on this earth. He wants to be BIG, but with three older than him, it's rough. He's a good big brother to the little girls though. We almost lost him when he was 2. I still see his scars from his surgery, running from his navel to his pelvic bone. He calls it his "snake". And still, he smiles. Maggie is the negotiator. She is so mature for her 6 years. She thinks she's the oldest, and idealizes Gret so much. She dispenses fashion advice ("Oh, Em, that does NOT match, go back and change those pants!"), gives pointers ("well, Mom, maybe you should try it THIS way instead") and is often the one that will put a new spin on things. Don't ask her to "pick up the room" or she will go to the corner and try tugging up the floor. Such a literalist that one. Then there's my baby. My Emile. Who turned FIVE today. That is just wrong on so many levels. First, I'm not old enough to have a 5 year old. Second, I'm not old enough to have my BABY be five. I tried talking her into being four for another year. She told me that if I bought her her very own PS2, she'd do it. Yeah, she's not dumb, either.

So, five years ago today, I was in the hospital, holding my new little miracle. I was looking forward to getting home and seeing my other babies. I had no idea that within a few years my whole world would change. I didn't know that terrorists would strike our country and Kel's husband would be sent to Afghanistan. I didn't know that I would grow to love being home so much that I'd want to homeschool all of them. I had no idea that my Mom would pass away. I didn't know that we'd find a church that we loved, and I'd find my way back to a God I'd deserted for years. I never dreamed that Shane would get a job in DC that paid enough that we didn't live paycheck to paycheck anymore. I had no idea that we'd eventually leave King George and move to a 10-acre slice of heaven with horses, further away from civilization. I didn't know any of this laying there in the hospital bed, staring at that incredible little girl with the huge blue eyes.

All I knew was that at that exact moment, 5 years ago, I was happy. I had no idea what the future held. I didn't know of the heartache, or the fear, the excitement or the pain. I just knew peace. And happiness. And contentment.

Now, 5 years later, I look back over the years and think how things may have been different if I'd have known what was coming. Would I still have pulled the kids from school and kept them home with me if I'd have known how crazy my life would feel around them all the time? Would I have fought with my mom that morning she left my house if I'd have known that she would be dead two days later? Would I have... well, it doesn't matter now, does it? I lived these five years. Just like you did. It's good for me to sit here and pick a point, like the birth of my baby 5 years ago, and go over it all again. It keeps me grounded in my reality.

And today, just like that morning 5 years ago, I feel those same things. I feel peace. I feel contentment. But most of all, knowing that Shane is a phone call away, hearing my children argue harmlessly in the next room, watching the rain slide down the window as I look out over my field with the horses, knowing that my mom is smiling at it all somewhere... I feel happiness.

But I still wish my baby wasn't 5.