Max is 11

Nine days after baby Millie was born, Maxwell David turned 11 years old. I have had a lot of flashbacks to his newborn days, perhaps because this new little blonde head and face looks like my first baby, and because of the July weather. I remember how awestruck we were to have a brand new baby to take care of, and the shock we were in, and the sweetness of each new milestone.

Milestones are still sweet when it comes to parenting this boy.

Many thanks to Scott and Kristi for bringing a delicious cake to Sunday dinner and letting us put candles in it to sing to Max. I had every intention of making a birthday cake decorated any way that Max wanted....but then I would fall back asleep. 

On his birthday itself he was busy all day, with Cub Country scout day camp, then his first meeting with the 11-year-old scouts that evening. In the morning we gave him gifts of a Gordon Hayward Jazz jersey, sandals, a pocket knife and a headlamp. Happy face!  In between his activities we went to In-N-Out for hamburgers -- his favorite food and possibly his favorite version, too.

This was our first outing with the baby and as a family of 7.  She did great, sleeping through the whole thing. The 5 and 3 year olds were a bit loud. I think they have gone stir-crazy at home.

Max is a great big brother. I always wanted a boy first, because I thought it would be great for the other children to have a big brother. He is responsible (he has had several watering jobs around the neighborhood, and can babysit for us for short periods of time), he is thoughtful, and he anxiously looks out for his younger siblings around streets and parking lots, etc.   He is opinionated about the foods and treats he likes, and the kind of socks and shorts he wants to wear.  He wants to be in the NBA someday and why not?

Happy birthday, Max!

Happenings

The baby did a four hour stretch of sleep so I came out to feed her on the couch knowing this could be a long feeding, and I'm typing one-handed and burning my eyes on the laptop screen in the dark.

Living the dream.

Seriously, though, I think things are going well. We have rough patches, with sleep-deprivation and such. I am learning to walk around and nurse sometimes, because otherwise I am glued to one spot while the brothers (mostly 3 year old James) tussle. Then it is me yelling "stop that!" but he knows I have no go-go-gadget arms to reach him. He is cute and soft with the baby, but, the other boys' faces have gouge marks from his trying-to-adjust-to-this big-change fingernails.

One night while tucking the little boys in, I said to Andrew, "I feel like it was a rough day with a lot of yelling."
Him: "Yeah, and you did most of the yelling."

Tonight he prayed the baby wouldn't cry so much. Yet earlier he begged me to put her down and help him with something, saying, "she can cry for a minute like when you go to the bathroom."

Today we did all day without JB, and the big boys were at a day camp. By 6 PM when Max was going to scouts and JB to his Wednesday night meetings (Ben's scouts was canceled), I decided I needed a treat and batteries for the baby swing we borrowed from my brother Peter. So three of the boys and the girl and I headed to the store, with me in the same big baggy shorts and maternity shirt I've worn for 2 weeks and no makeup.

A woman with a toddler passed me as I was pushing the big car cart with Andrew and James "driving" and one of my hands holding a binkie in the baby's mouth and Ben walking beside -- she said "you're my hero."  I laughed, then choked up a bit.  I normally don't take multiple children anywhere. I avoid it! I don't have to. JB shops and cooks and works from home and I am blessed, I wanted to tell her. I know other moms of 5 kids whose husbands' jobs mean they are alone all day everyday -- they need some praise!

Anyway, I know why people don't go anywhere for a while after a new baby: germ worries, postpartum healing, constant nursing, and nothing fits! But I know it gets better.

 Pictures from my phone. These booties I crocheted . And Andrew toes.

A picture JB sent me from Lagoon on Monday. He took all four boys there by himself again. The bigs ride water slides and check in: James got tuckered out in the kiddie area.

Scripture reading with the bigs (and the littlest) one night.

Morning mauling. She just wanted tummy time. 

Sunday best. I tried a dress from my brother Michael on Millie, and the boys wanted to take her with them to church. Maybe next week we will try sacrament meeting. I do miss it. And reports are the boys are behaving be-yew-tafully. Many thanks to Roger and JoLynn and Katie for that while JB is up on the stand!

A James selfie.

OK, she may be done eating. Time to try and sneak some more zzzzzzzzs.

Our family

This is the sweetest picture. My sister Rachel said the other day that I got what I wanted in life. To be married (to a tall handsome good man) in the temple, to have children (four boys and now a girl!), to be on the radio, to have the last name Richards like The Mary Tyler Moore Show...life is good (albeit sleep-deprived right now).

Major props to JB for finding clothes and washing them, and bathing boys and getting their hair all ready for the photo shoot.  I was in charge of the girls in between nursing sessions.

I spy a bassinet.

I laugh at myself -- in some ways I am a bossy, "I've done this before, I have had 5 babies" kind of woman to my friends and sister, but in other ways I forget things. Like the fact that at 8 or 9 at night I think I can lay Millie down in that bassinet and say good night. Bahahahahaha, she is held all day long by brothers or parents, then I expect her to sleep by herself , away from a warm body and beating heart.  So she lately comes into bed with us for at least one feeding.

The boys are handling this ok so far I think. Summer is a good and bad time to have a newborn. No where to go, but, no where to go if that makes sense. They spend an awful long time playing on phones or watching TV/movies. It's too hot (101 all week) to be outside in the afternoon.  They are begging for playdates, but I say that's what we have all these brothers for.

Our boys

I sometimes (ok, lots of times) stare at this picture on my phone in the middle of the night while nursing.

James is smiling and cooperating!  Secret:  I bribed him with gum.  And Katherine was fast during the pictures with him. She's good. (She did our Lagoon pictures last August with the same stuffed Eyeore on her head).

She got single shots of our growing-too-quickly boys.

Max (11 years old this week)

Benjamin, 8 1/2 (his model serious look slays me. Blue Steel.)

Andrew, age 5 1/2

And James, age 3 (who suddenly seems very big and grown up)

Blue-eyed and blonde just like Russian nesting doll versions of their dad.  People who are new to our ward will come up to me and say, "This must be the Bishop's family. They all look like him!"  And I love it.  We'll see what our girl grows up to look like.

Our girl

We have never had a professional photographer take newborn pictures, but this was my birthday present/family pictures/I mean, come on, look at this:

The kind, funny and talented Katherine Wallin came to our home Saturday morning.  Millie-girl was great through the family pictures and pictures with her brothers (next posts), but when it was her turn to fly solo, she got a little restless.

Pop out the binkie, then snap!

My friend Brooke gave me that swaddle blanket, my friend Sarah used that bow on her own girl babies.

 First time getting dressed and putting on eyebrows in days.

The pictures of JB holding her are my favorite. Besides the ones of the boys holding her.

She is the sweetest thing. We are hoping she doesn't get the colicky crying cranks like James did for 11-12 weeks. And we hope she keeps taking a binkie, like her brother Ben did. So far I think she looks the most like Andrew and Max, who had the same amount of blonde hair.

 

These are happy, sleepless nights and days getting to know this pink little bundle.

First days

Happy Pioneer Day and happy due date -- no longer pregnant, and never ever chewing gum again! 

Fun notes about the birthday:  Millie-girl was born on her great-grandmother's birthday (my mom's mom, who lives in Bountiful) and her Uncle Stephen's birthday.  And it is easy to remember birthdays: June 6, December 6, July 18 and December 18. And then Max on July 27.

New babies just deserve to be worshipped. And so far, these older brothers are smitten. They came to the hospital four times to see her. They have the best grandparents to care for them for two days so that JB could help me.

This is one of my favorite pictures. A girl surrounded by the bestest boys.

Uncle Jeff flew into town Tuesday morning and came to see her. He has held lots of Richards babies as newborns, and will do just fine as a new daddy soon.

Scott and Kristi also came by on their way to ultimate Frisbee.

During all of this, our girlie had high levels of jaundice. Par for the course. But this time, the pediatrician (not ours incidentally but one from the practice who came by on rounds) thought it would be wise to start the lights at the hospital.

Let me tell you, it is tons easier to deal with a light kit at the hospital than it is at home. SO much easier to handle and less emotional for me. By a few days at home, I am in my weepy stage, but in the hospital I am still on that adrenaline high and can handle the pokes and prods and blue light all night.

Millie did not sleep well on the light kit, but it seems like it was enough to bring her levels down. They never did send a kit to our house, and the subsequent blood checks at the doctor have not shown enough of an alarm to put her back in the tanning bed.

Going home. Seriously, I cannot get enough of the PINK!

We got home Wednesday afternoon, and have been adjusting to life here with 5 children. Everyone wants to hold her so I set a timer sometimes. They were quite curious about how the milk worked to come out.  I can nurse for years, but the first two weeks can be a sore trial and I sometimes let out a few "Good Gravy!" and "Gaaaahhh!" sounds when she latches wrong. (James: "Why are you feeding her from your owie?"  Andrew: "Can I help squeeze?")

She's had other uncles, aunts and cousins come by, plus neighbors. People are so nice to bring by presents for the girl, and even the boys. Like books, blankets and Star Wars figurines.

Look how teeny she is in Max's arms. At 8'3, she was our smallest baby by an ounce. She was down to 7 something but will bounce back.

Max and Ben are good helpers to entertain the little boys when needed. JB needs rest, too, the light on at night and the baby's squeaks can be hard to sleep through. And he takes her if she's done nursing but won't settle.

Now to make sure I sleep when she sleeps, and not try to do too much. Like blog.  Ok, goodnight.

What's in a name?

Some have shared their stories of a strong or sudden spiritual confirmation over a name for their babies. When that happened again about 2 1/2 months ago, I started to doubt myself again and sink back into that sadness and bitterness that if that happened for them and not for me, then it meant I was unloved and unvalued.

I sat in the temple. I pored over obituaries. I looked at new baby posts on strangers' Instagram accounts. Took baby name quizzes online. JB suggested several names. Darling names. But when anyone would ask, I would just have to say, "Well, I have always loved Millie...." almost apologetically.

I thought about this a lot. As I was pondering this one Sunday morning, a scripture entered my mind: "Did I not tell you in your mind and in your heart?"  I went over the teachings of Elder Bednar about spiritual revelation:  some may get one big ah-ha moment. That doesn't mean I need to expect that for me every time. Instead, more often I have a thought that nags me, that keeps coming back. While other things become that "stupor of thought" and leave.

11 years ago when I was early pregnant, I thought: "Millie! I love that name for a girl."  And it never left my mind and heart. It only became closer and more dear to me as I thought about a daughter.

I did have two other moments connected to this that felt very spiritual. Three years ago this summer, I was at the park in Bountiful with my sister-in-law and our new baby boys. I was trying to come to terms with being an all-boy family. As I played some frisbee with my older boys, a little blonde girl came up to join us -- she was so sweet, chatting away with me. I was startled to hear her mother call, "Millie! It's time to go!"  I couldn't believe that was her name out of thousands of names, because maybe it was a sign from God to me.

The second moment came in a dream late last summer, when I was in such a deep depression. Now normally I don't really put much stock in my dreams, because with my sleep schedule I have such random weird dreams -- pandas show up for example.  But one night after crying myself to sleep again, I dreamed I was back at beautiful Bear Lake with my friend Sarah. We were chatting in the kitchen about various things, when she looked directly at me and said, "It's going to be ok."  I felt such peace come over me that I knew it had to be a message from above.

I do regret that I struggled since then to cling to that peace. I was not strong enough to keep trusting God that everything WOULD be ok, and I acted accordingly, especially to family members. I chose fear over faith, instead of faith over fear.  I am writing this all down to help me remember to do better -- to be better -- and to recognize revelation and promptings.

Tuesday morning, JB came back early to the hospital from sleeping overnight at our house (one of us needs to get rest).  And it felt right to be Millie Grace. When I said it out loud I felt a wave of peace. For a time I thought Elizabeth for the middle name, like me, but JB and I talked about God's grace and goodness that He freely gives.  He gave us the grace of this daughter when we thought we'd never have one.

She is perfect, she is so sweet, and I still cannot believe she is ours eternally.