my favorite surgery

Five years ago today I had my favorite surgery. And my favorite boy. My pregnancy with Jaron went by the book. I did not have to do any additional non stress tests or ultrasounds as all was well in the womb. He patiently waited until my scheduled c-section to arrive, exactly one week prior to my due date. The surgery itself was the most smooth and least painful of them all. Kevin, who was hanging on the verge of a full blown panic attack and almost speechless with Madison's c-section, gave me a play-by-play of the surgery as I blissfully felt NOTHING until the slight tug that let me know he was finally here. The first thing Kevin said to me after the surgery was, "If Madison had been like this we could have two or three more kids!" I never included myself in that "we" he was talking about, but I admit it was my favorite surgery. Barely a year has gone by since we decided to try for baby #3. I remember thinking maybe I would be expecting at Jaron's 5th birthday party. I never dreamed Megan would be here celebrating with us. As we were getting ready to go Jaron said, "Guess what, baby? This is your brother's birthday party with cake!" And she smiled at him.

I love Jaron's deep, brown eyes and long eyelashes. I love his smile and cannot contain my own any time he flashes it at me. It is completely contagious. This works to his advantage when he is in trouble. He is a happy guy 99% of the time and goes with the flow. He loves his sisters and tractors and Spiderman. He loves to ride his bike and go swimming. He loves to go fishing and haul hay with Grandpa and he loves to ride in Daddy's fishing boat in the river. He loves chocolate and pancakes and meat (which does not include hot dogs). He is adorably bashful. He told me after his party, "I'm shy of lots of people. I'm not shy of one people." It is true. He is my sweet boy. He still hugs me without embarrassment. He melts my heart on a daily basis. Happy Birthday, Jaron! May you always have that happy, positive attitude that is such a blessing to our family!

stay-at-home dad

You know, my husband has never really been the primary caretaker of the children. If we were to tally up baths given, diapers changed, and meals prepared, I am confident that the majority of the little marks would register to my side of the paper. And he does not believe in putting Band-Aids on boo-boos that cannot be seen with the naked eye. And he does not require them to use sunscreen to step outside the door.

He likes to be the fun one. The one who does not enforce bedtime and lets them watch Spongebob. He has a large reserve of patience, most of the time, and as the kids get bigger they go with him more and more often to help him with anything and everything, as long as it is not dangerous. He does not mind that, while one would assume help would speed up his work, sometimes that "help" ends up making projects go much more slowly. At the same time, as I believe many men do, he has his own agenda. He tends to assume everything should take place in the time frame that he deems necessary and he believes that (dare I say it?) everything should, for the most part, revolve around his schedule. I once held up one hand and said to him, "This is not a universe where this is you and (while circling my other hand around the first one) this is the world!" to which he replied, "Oh, but it should be!"

Kevin hurt his back a several weeks ago at work. The first week he was off was rough. He was hurting bad. He was having back spasms. I threatened to obtain some big strong men to take him to the ER to get relief ASAP! At one point he was unable to get up and all I can really do for him in a situation like this if bring him something to eat or drink. He is 6'4" and weighs 240 pounds. There is no picking him up myself. The first few days he would tell me which channels were going to have the best movies on that day. I remember it was TBS one day and USA the next. He has been required to stay home for almost a month now. Gradually he has been getting better.

After that first week I started leaving the big kids home with him to let them have some quality time with Dad, and to save some of those babysitting dollars. I have to admit I was apprehensive. I also have to admit I sort of like things to be my way when it comes to the kids. There were a few things I noticed right away that were different than when I stay home with them, of course. A few extra bumps and bruises here and a slight sunburn there. Jaron's brand new Levi shorts, mud covered, in the laundry when his drawer is full of play clothes. Dads just do not do things the same way that moms do. I chose to ignore these things because there were additional matters to be noticed as well.

I came home one day to a swing hanging in the tree. With my kids sitting on it. Our swing set had been broken for awhile. I did not realize he had saved a swing to put up someday. I came home one day to find the swimming pool being set up in the yard. The kids LOVE to play in the water and jump in with reckless abandon. One day this week, our dog Max died. We think he had a heat stroke. Kevin set up the slip N slide that evening to help the kids cheer up a little bit. It worked. Kevin took the training wheels off of Jaron's bike and taught him to ride it without them. A couple days later he was pushing off without help.

They have helped him pick cherries, take care of animals, and put gutters on their great-grandma's house. He has taken them to the park. And he cooks for them. Not frozen dinners but bacon and eggs, pancakes, hamburger helper, and tenderloins. One night this week he has grilled steak and hot dogs for supper. Another night he fried chicken and made mashed potatoes and gravy. I think maybe I could get use to his being off work. He has been so carefree and relaxed that it makes me wish he could have more time off on a regular basis. I love being able to leave the kids in bed when I go to work instead of getting them up early. I love them being able to stay home and play. And swim. And ride bikes. I love that they are having a real summer vacation at home. I would love to be the one staying home with them for the summer. But I do not begrudge Kevin for having this opportunity. I can see the relationship between them solidifying before my eyes and it melts my heart. The card Madison made for her daddy for Father's Day says it all.

Iris June

I met Iris June when I was 17 years old. She was introduced to me as "Kevin's old babysitter." I was naive about a lot of things when I was 17. Okay, almost everything. I did not possess one solitary memory of having a babysitter. I had no concept of what that could mean. On the rare occasion that I was left with someone, my mom left me with my grandparents. I remember three very distinct first impressions stemming from this first meeting with Iris June. First, this woman was actually shorter than me! It is something you notice when you are 5'2". Second, she seemed like a nice lady(another point chalked up for my first impressions being so right on!). And third, it was obvious to me that she loved Kevin.

I was a teenager and I loved my boyfriend and I thought everything he said was funny and everything he did was impressive and adorable. Meeting his childhood babysitter, and seeing her look up at him and call him her "little Kevie" with a quiet, warm smile...well it made me wonder about all the things I did not know about him. All the cute little things he did growing up that made him into the person who would be the love of my life. She was there for most of that. And the more time I spent with Iris June, the more stories she told me. And the more I understood that "babysitter" was a very insignificant title for the role she played in his life. I started to understand that family is not something that requires blood ties and matching noses and eye color. She was a grandmother to him. She was a mother to him. She was a friend to him. He spent most days with Iris June and her husband, Joe, and spent the night often, too. She was monumental in his upbringing and could not have cared for him more lovingly if he had been her own baby.

She told me a story about how at bedtime she would snuggle Kevin up and knock on the headboard and say, "Go away, Sandman, you can't have my little Kevie! He's my boy!" She had to do it every time he spent the night. One night he decided he would protect her, too, and he knocked on the headboard and said, "Go away, Sandman, you can't have Iris June! She's my boy!" And she laughed. Her laugh could fill a room if not the entire house!

Another time she and Joe were teasing him by fighting over whose boy he was. Joe's boy or Iris June's boy. He finally said, "OK, Iris June. You can have my top half and Joe can have my bottom half!" She told him that would be good because she didn't want his stinky bottom anyway!

She and Joe taught Kevin a lot. He gardened with them. He went to church with them. He milked cows and put up hay with them. She got him to do things like sing solo in church, play the guitar, and crochet an afghan. He cooked and baked with her. Kevin loved them both very much. I have never heard him say a cross word about Iris June in the 18 years he has been in my life. She was his soft spot. His expression always melted into a whole new level of adorable when she was around. Over the years when I thought Kevin was misbehaving I would tell her maybe she should have spanked him more when he was little. She always said, "Oh, I never spanked Kevin! He never needed a spanking!" Just as she loved Kevin as a son, she loved my kids as her own grandchildren and did not miss any of their birthdays or Christmases even though I know she has not felt very well for some time now. When I told her I was expecting baby #3 she said, "Good. Two kids are not enough!"

I don't know what else I can say to do justice to this woman who, while she never delivered a child of her own, loved many children wholeheartedly. I have given birth to three of those children she loved, and I am married to another one of them. She loved people and baking and telling stories. And she was loved and treasured by all of us. I think the people who treasured her the most were the ones she cherished from the time they were babies. We visited Iris June in the hospital on Mother's Day. She was holding Megan when the nurse came in to check on her. The nurse asked if her lunch was okay and Iris June said, "It was fine, but this baby is my dessert!" Iris June was the dessert in my husband's life for his entire childhood. I am grateful for the love she has shown my family and I over the years. I am grateful for her contributions to the man I am sharing my life with. We will miss her always.

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Madison

Jaron

Megan