Dear Benjamin,

I am sorry I keep calling you Seamus.  But you can be glad I am not mistakenly calling you Linus, at least.  That was the mistake I made with Seamus.

 
In just a few hours you will be three weeks old. Three weeks!  Three weeks seemed like ages when I was pregnant and waiting for you to be born.  And since you've been here...three weeks seems like ages when you never sleep longer than an hour and a half at a stretch!  Please won't you sleep a bit longer, little one?

I think perhaps today you began a growth spurt.  You've been inconsolable unless you're at my breast, and frankly my boy, you've drained me dry.  You're in the crib in my bedroom crying as I type this.  You fell asleep nursing my empty breast and the moment I laid you down you started sqwuaking again.  You've been fairly easy to please up until now, so I'm hoping it's just a growth spurt and not colic.

Yesterday I looked at you and thought you looked bigger.  Since the day you were born I have thought you look smaller than your brothers.  You certainly don't weigh less (you were 9lb 8oz at your appointment on Wednesday), or measure smaller, but your head is a different shape.  Your Grandma says you don't have the Thiessen head, like the other boys.  Do you have a Bergen head?  I've never thought those heads were particularly small, though.  Either way, your head seems a different shape than your brothers, and I think you look distinctly You.

Poor little Benjamin.  Your face broke out in baby acne yesterday and it looks so uncomfortable.  After your bath today it looked a little better, but you've been so upset off and on all day that your face is red and sweaty anyway...you're just a pitiful thing when your chin quivers and you're all worked up and red in the face.

The night before you were born, December 26th, I wasn't feeling too good.  I hadn't slept well for weeks-months, really.  Since Steven died.  At first it was grief.  Then nausea.  Then the call of nature.  Anyway, I thought the exhaustion was finally getting to me.  I'd been having contractions for two weeks, and nearly every evening for two weeks I thought, "Wow!  These are strong and close together!  This could be it!"  And then I'd go to bed...and wake up the next morning still pregnant.

But my Mom said the night before you were born she could tell something was different.  I hardly touched my dinner.  I escaped to the basement couch for a little while after dinner and just lay down.  My Mom came and visited for a bit.  The house was pretty loud and crazy with five extra adults.  Every one of your extended family came to meet you!  Grammy, Grandpa, Auntie Lissa, Auntie Sarah and Stephen, all came from California for Christmas, and your birth!  Your arrival was ordained cause for celebration.

I wanted to go for a bit of a walk in the evening.  I just didn't have it in me to sit still for very long.  When people started volunteering to walk with me I insisted I would go on my own.  I wasn't really planning on walking so much as shuffling.  I went down the street and around Barracuda Bay and home again.  Very. Slowly.  Contractions weren't regular, but I had several on my walk that were strong enough to make me pause.

I went to bed while everyone else watched an episode of Big Bang Theory.  I fell right to sleep and woke up at 4am when I felt some liquid gush out.  It was blood, so I called the hospital and they said I should come right in to have it checked out.  While we got some snacks together and Derek got dressed my contractions were about three minutes apart.  I woke my Mom and she gathered up her stuff to come along as the special guest for what I hoped would be your birth!

When we got to the hospital at 4:45am I was three cm dilated....only one cm more than a week previous, and not enough for them to keep me in the hospital.  They would have sent me home except I was still bleeding and they wanted to keep an eye on that.  By the end of my nurse's shift at 7am, the contractions had gotten so that I couldn't talk through them, and I was 5 1/2cm dilated.

I showered, and when the doctor came in to check me at 8am I was 6cm dilated.  I asked if he would break my water because I could feel it bulging and I remembered that once they broke my water with Seamus everything sped right up.  Dr. Basson agreed and broke my water on the next contraction.  I immediately got dizzy and vomited several times and nearly passed out.  I just barely stayed conscious to hear the doctor say I had gone from 6cm to 8 1/2cm when they broke my water.  If I hadn't been so woozy I would have jumped with joy.

You felt so funny in my belly after the doctor broke my water.  I could feel your little arms and legs just under my skin, like you were crashing around inside a collapsed tent - trying to find the exit.  The next half hour went by in slow motion.  I breathed nitrous oxide during contractions and your Grammy and Daddy stood on either side of me, just touching me and saying encouraging words.  I knew that now I was just waiting for the desire to push.  The doctor decided to go change into scrubs.

I began to get terrible charlie horse cramps in my butt, so I switched positions and got on my hands and knees.  Within moments I felt the need to push, but the nurse wanted to check me and couldn't while I was on my hands and knees.  I refused to go on my back, because that's when the cramps were the worst, but I was really in no position to argue.  I had already pushed through one contraction on my hands and knees and the nurse was getting worried.  I flipped around and the nurse pushed a little lip of the cervix back while I pushed through one more contraction.  I had just asked the nurse if she'd ever caught a baby when the doctor swooped in and I pushed for the third time.  Your head came out, and for one awful second I knew something wasn't right - the rest of your body wasn't coming out like it should.  I'd done this before, I knew that once your head was out the rest should be easy.  But I was still pushing!

Your shoulder was hung up a little, so the doctor repositioned me, flattened the bed and got your shoulder out.  Finally!  Three contractions and you were out.  December 27th, 8:45am, baby boy Thiessen #3 arrives.  A little purple, but a 9 on the Apgar scale.  8lb, 8oz.  A tiny, naked, frog-legged boy laying on my stomach.  You looked so different from your brothers!  We all said so.  Grammy noticed a birthmark on the back of your neck when they put the ointment on your eyes.  And later I noticed your ears look a little elvish, and lay flat against your head unlike your brothers'.  You lay with  me and nursed right away.  You latched on and just made yourself right at home for the first 35 minutes of your life outside the womb.  I think your Dad cut the umbilical cord, but those details are a bit fuzzy.

I was thrilled to meet you, and just so thrilled not to be pregnant anymore.  Don't get me wrong, Benjamin.  I was so happy to know you were growing inside me.  And so happy to have a third baby boy.  But pregnancy was exhausting.  All the vomiting, the lack of sleep, the discomfort.  You will never know, because you're a man.  And even if you were a woman, not all women have it as bad as me.  But pregnancy is just no fun for me.  There were about two weeks in the middle when I felt comfortable and beautiful and healthy.  And then the rest all just blurs together in one long uncomfortable fog.  After you were born I am sure I said something like, "HELLO little boy!!"  and then, "Hey everyone!!  I'm NOT pregnant anymore!!"  I was just that happy.

You didn't have a name at first, and that drove your Grandma crazy.  I was just happy to have you in my arms.  Your Dad and I got lots of suggestions for names that day as we introduced you to everyone.  Your brothers came to meet you first.  They both wanted to hold you.  Luke had asked Santa that you be born on Christmas, but you didn't cooperate.  You can imagine that waiting two whole days after Christmas just about made Luke blow a gasket.  Seamus couldn't stop saying delightful things like, "We just love the baby!" and, "The baby is so smart!"

Next we were visited by Grandpa Stan, the Aunties and Stephen, Kelvin and Jonathan Dyck (who said he'd never seen a baby so new before and was surprised that you didn't look "weird"), your Grandma and Papa, and Auntie Jaime.  The top two names on our list were Cedric and Theodore.  But since we couldn't agree between the two of us, and neither of the names really seemed to suit you, we threw both those names out the window and started from scratch.

The next morning, over Tim Horton's bagels, your Dad and I debated between Andrew and Benjamin.  Your middle name was arranged beforehand.  We looked at you.  We asked you.  You were Benjamin Harvey.  We filled your name in on the hospital paperwork just moments before sticking you in the car seat and heading home for the first time.  The day you were born it was so warm that everything was melty.  The day we took you home, we took you home in a blizzard!

Welcome to the world Benjamin Harvey.  Welcome to Manitoba in the middle of winter!  We will not be celebrating your birthday with pool parties.  But maybe we will make snowmen, or snow angels, or a snow fort or go winter camping or build snow lanterns!  You get to share December birthdays with your cousin Roehn, and your Grandma Helene!  And we will never forget that your first winter in Manitoba was also Grammy and Grandpa's first Manitoba winter experience (and boy did they experience the deep freeze!).

Color!

The basement's getting a paint job this week,

and WHOA!

It's gonna glow in the dark.

Dear little tomato,

A typical bedroom scene:  yoga mat with race car and bicycle, tiny smudgy hand prints on the mirror.

The website says you are the size of a tomato the same week my tomatoes in the garden are finally coming ripe!  We haven't gotten to eat any of our tomatoes because your big brother Seamus keeps picking them and eating them, or feeding them to Linus.  You've heard Linus barking, but what you don't know is that Linus loves you a ton - even though you're not born yet!  Linus loves your big brothers as his own brothers and waits at the door for them when they are gone.  Luke and Seamus have started taking turns feeding Linus his scoop of dog food morning and night.  They are going to be excellent, responsible big brothers for you my little tomato.

Right now you weigh about half a pound.  Gain eight more pounds and you will be exactly the same weight as your brother Luke, the day he was born.  Half a pound makes me imagine half a block of butter.  You weigh the same as my chocolate chip cookie dough recipe calls for.  Granted, I usually substitute some of that with peanut butter or oil.  When you grow up a little more you will get to try those cookies.  It's your Grandma Helene's recipe.  Your Dad's favorite.

We are nearly halfway through your incubation.  That reminds me of the caterpillars we watched this Spring.  They grew and grew and GREW, and then they incubated.  They sat in those cocoons for 2 long weeks.  Those weeks seemed interminable to those of us waiting for butterflies.  But they were worth it.  The butterflies came out and were so beautiful!  We are looking forward to you coming out of your cocoon as well. 

When you come, tomatoes will be long gone in the compost pile and in our bellies.  Your brothers will be even bigger and better helpers.  Linus will want to sniff your soft little head.  And fresh warm cookies will definitely be on the menu in the deepest part of Winter.  Your Grammy and Grandpa will be here from California to meet you for the first time.  And we will celebrate the New Year with you as our special gift for 2014, little tomato.  Grow and grow and grow.  You're not quite ripe, yet.

Visit With my Parents and other miscellaneous summer things

My dreadlocks are three months old today.  I accidentally took this photo of myself last week during a photo shoot while I was setting up the lights.  I almost deleted it and then I realized it was a wonderful shot of my dreads in pigtails!  Somebody told me that dreads are an exercise in acceptance.  That having dreads you have to accept what they are from day to day: frizzy, curly, wild, flat.  And that learning that acceptance is good for your ego, good for your soul.  Someone else said that dreads are a mad scientist's experiment in patience.  I have discovered all of this to be true, and will soon do a post about why I have dreads, and what it's been like these last three months.

My Dad helped me set up my lights, and even built me a lovely backdrop.  It's handy having Stan the man for your Dad.

Sometimes he's a superhero.

Sometimes he's two years old.

Loved by two-year-olds.

This blog post looks like it's about my Dad.  It's not really.  Although he's great, and I have a ton of fun photos of him, this post is supposed to be about Mom AND Dad, and all the fun stuff we've done while they've been here.  All the fun stuff mostly consists of hiding under blankets and jumping out and saying "Peek!" to the little guy.  But still...

Finally one of Mom!  She's a handsome woman, isn't she? :)

Mom took Luke to all his swim lessons last week.

Last year Luke complained, but this year he really looked forward to his lessons.

And at the end of two weeks hard work, he earned his Level 1 badge!!

"Share your Banket, Gampa."

It's About to Get Loud...er.

Because we're spending more time outside, and the outdoors is great for shouting!

Because Luke graduated preschool and we are preparing to homeschool starting in the Fall.

Because little boys insist on picking dandelions for their mother and slamming the back door every time they bring me some more.

Because of home made ice cream, you scream, we all scream for ICE CREAM!

Because the neighborhood boys found our stash of scrap lumber.

Because Seamus wants to be a big boy so badly.

Because this kid will try anything.

Because we're expecting Thiessen Number 5.

In approximately 31 weeks.

Two Old

I asked Seamus how old he is today, and he told me, "Two old!"  

"Too old for what?" I asked him.

"Two old, two old, two old," he muttered as he shuffled off down the hall like a confused 98-year-old man.

If you have called our house by telephone recently, you will have heard Seamus screaming in the background.  Although his skill with the English language has progressed admirably, he still finds screaming to be the most effective mode of communication (much like his mother when she was his age, so I hear).  His smiles, though, are worth all the screaming he can fill our ears with.  When this kid decides to smile, I am sure people feel the after shocks in Nepal:  pure joy. 

Seamus often wakes up in the morning with the statement, "I gungy buskat", which means, "I'm hungry for breakfast".  I also love to hear him try to say, "Delicious Nutritious", which he always says, "Nutritious, nutritious", with a big grin.  He is a pretty good sport when it comes to food and tries almost everything at least once. Something I'm particularly proud of him for liking recently is kombucha tea, which I made myself.  I love the thought that his little intestines, and his large ones for that matter, are smiling at me and thanking me for what Seamus calls, "Boocha juice".

Seamus has finally found the appropriate place to insert "Pease" and "Gan-goo" in a sentence, and often thanks me for "Take me outta crib, Momma!"  Can you believe this boy still doesn't climb out of the crib?!  He did once or twice and scared himself, and now I can leave him in there safely until I'm ready to retrieve him.  What a blessing!  One night I went in to hold him when he was crying.  I sang him a song, walked around a little bit, and finally laid him down in the crib with a race car to hold and in the sweetest, sleepiest voice he whispered up at me, "Gan-goo Momma, I yuv oo."

Seamus loves to run up and down the hall, around the house, following Luke, following the dog, following nobody.  He always shouts, "Watch dis Momma!", or "Watch dis Dada!" and then takes off full-speed.  His full-speed is an adorable stiff-legged little stomp-stomp-stomp with his arms out in front of him like he's holding bike handlebars, fists clenched, but in the last few weeks he has definitely put on speed.  Seamus is definitely not as coordinated as Luke was at this age, but we are really enjoying watching him learn.  It reminds us not to take mobility for granted.  And it reminds us that Seamus is only just barely two, which keeps us attentive to his babyhood.

I have realized in the last few months that I really love having this fat-cheeked baby around.  I never thought I was much of a baby person, and Luke was never much of a baby, but Seamus is baby through and through.  Perhaps it was subconscious on my part, perhaps I pushed Luke up and up and never let him be much of a baby, or perhaps he really did mature quickly.  But Seamus is slow and steady, and the progression of his babyhood has been a delight to participate in.

About five times in the last few months Seamus has asked to sit on the toilet.  He seems interested in potty-training, although he's never actually successfully used the toilet, and we have never pushed the issue.  We will take it slow, but maybe he will be ready soon?  

The weather has warmed up in the last few days (at last!) and Seamus and Luke have been playing out in the backyard more.  Seamus can climb up the stairs onto the play structure all on his own!  But he is still frightened to go down the slide on his own - it is a fast slide!  Seamus loves to go for walks, loves his dog "Yinus", loves "Macanoni", "Fench fives", and most of all his big brother, "Yuke". Luke sometimes gets tired of Seamus repeating everything he says, which I understand, but they do say, "Imitation is the greatest form of flattery".  I can see lots of differences in these brothers already, but I am pleased to say that if Seamus imitated Luke in every way, he would turn out to be a pretty great kid.  Don't get me wrong, they bicker and shout and drive me crazy sometimes!  But when it really matters, when someone is crying or when we're tucking them in to bed at night, they both always honestly say, "I love you, brother."

Here are a few pictures from the cake we had last Sunday to celebrate our favorite Seamus Nathaniel Thiessen.

I helped him blow out his candles, but he really gave it a good huff and puff.  He just couldn't blow the house down, yet.  Third time's a charm, Seamus bo baymus! Next year.

This is his famous "Thundercloud" expression.  So named by Grandpa Stan.  He is feeling defensive about his new balance bike from Grandma and Papa.  This is a very popular toy in our house these days!

  

It's warming up out there, at last.

March comes in like a lion

Deja Vu

 Same toque, same mitts, same couch, different boy.

Luke, November 2009

Seamus, January 2013

He says, "Cheese!" and scrunches up his nose.  I love it because you can see his teeth!