Logan

I wish I remembered the morning of the day Logan was born, but I was so incredibly tired that everything about that year is a blur.  I'm guessing that Brad and I rode together to school.  Maybe I was too pregnant to touch the pedals :-).

I do remember, though, when I first felt the labor pains, and I thought, "I'm not ready!"  My sub plans weren't perfect (Cindy Coker probably laughed uproariously at my plans.  I wrote things like, "say, 'What do you think the theme of this book is?' and then walk to the right side of the classroom and point to the theme poster."  Like Cindy couldn't figure anything out for herself.  Like she is not amazing.)

When Logan came into this world.  .  . well, he just came.  Labor and delivery was rather uneventful.  Brad sat in a chair, the nurse was very helpful (actually, she was the amazing part of the experience), and we had a baby at 11:23 PM Thursday, February 26.

What was otherworldly was my exhaustion.  I worked until 2 the day Logan was born, then we picked up Emma, and then I parented until around 6, and then I labored and delivered a baby.

I wish I could say that I felt immediate attachment and overwhelming love, but to be honest, I was too tired.  When he was finally born, I just felt finished.

When we got back to our hospital room, Brad sunk into the chair and immediately fell asleep in like two seconds.  No new parent awe.  Just new parent exhaustion.

I had already decided that Logan would sleep in the nursery that night.  I needed sleep.  I was now mommy to two kids, and I was a teacher, and I was a wife.  I was at least going to get one night sleep before the tsunami of responsibility crested the ridge.

And then.  . . they brought him to me. . . and just left.  They didn't ask if I wanted him to room in, and I was too timid to say how I felt.  I nearly wept.  Brad was snoring in the chair, and I was alone with this baby that needed me desperately, and I was so emotionally and physically spent.

How was I going to do this?  The tsunami of responsibility crashed into me, and I couldn't breathe.

And then.  . . I fed him.  He nestled into my arms and fell blissfully, sweetly asleep for FIVE HOURS.  We slept in the hospital bed together for FIVE HOURS that first night.  And I started to fall in love.  That baby boy gave me the gift of five hours of sleep.  I could do this.

From the beginning, he was the sweetest, quietest baby.  So easy going.  Emma ate every 2 hours, frantically.  Logan ate every 5 hours, leisurely (and if you tell the doctor that I didn't wake him up to feed him, I will--insert lame threat here--).  Logan loved being in my arms, and he loved being by himself too.  He would swing (Emma hated swinging) for as long as I needed him too.  He would lie on a blanket in the floor and just hang.  He was patient while I potty-trained Emma.  He never screamed for food; he'd let me know he was hungry, and then just wait until I was ready to feed him.  It was like he was saying, "Hey Mom, I'm hungry.  I trust you'll take care of that."

What a delightful, hard core parenting journey started that night!  We have had ear infections, speech issues, sleep issues, and potty training nightmares; however, in the end, he has become quite an amazing child--proof that rough roads sometimes lead you to the best destinations.   He has taught me so much about perfection (and lack thereof), about boys, about love, about ear infections, about potty-training (ha!), about the Ferber method, about Mario, about Marvel comics, about my limitations, and about what I can and cannot do.

And he has grown into the most delightful, six-year-old boy.
He has the gift of feeling when tension is in the air.  If we are, say, on the way to church, and everyone is gripping and snipping, he will try to be funny or sweet to change the mood (hypothetically--we are usually very happy going to church :-)).
He is definitely a peacemaker.
He HATES to be in trouble, and he works really hard to be the best, little boy he can be.
He loves the eraser on his pencil, so that he can erase and erase until it is his best work.  And he does this without getting frustrated most of the time.
He will scrub the bathroom sink until all of the toothpaste is gone, and then present his finished work to me with extreme pride.
He knows when he has done a good job.
He is a great friend who only wants to be with you and will play whatever you want to play.  He is quiet, but he doesn't know a stranger and will play with anyone.
He is a great little brother--sweet and kind to his sister.  I don't think he has ever hit her.
And his hugs are hard core.
He is a cuddler and likes to sit very close to you.

Happy Birthday, sweet Logan.  I am so proud to be your mama.  Cause you're my boy.