It's all about the sports....

I spoke earlier to how Matthew was in constant motion.  He actually had asthma as a baby - the way that I knew that he was sick is that he was still.  If he was breathing....he was running.  We spent many long hours in the Emergency Room with a Nebulizer - unfortunately, Medical would not pay for the home version at that point.   The winter months were always frightening  as an asthma attack could lead to a bout of Pneumonia within days.  On one trip to Disneyland, we ended up back home in the MD office most of the day trying to keep Matt out of the hospital.   None of this seemed to hold him back, however.

Matt seemed to move effortlessly from sport to sport.  Every summer brought a different focus that he would become almost obsessive about.  His first love when he was in grade school was skateboarding.  He would practice tricks again and again until he perfected them, many times making older boys stare in envy.  He was fearless - jumping off the roof, sliding down railings...and never breaking a bone.  I've said before, God protects fools and children....I'm not sure which category he was falling into.  

Matt played baseball for several years.  He rotated between being a left handed pitcher, 2nd base and outfield.  He loved the game but hated the parental politics that always seemed to follow the sport.  When he made All Stars the last year that he played, he ended up having scheduling issues.  He had taken up fishing and had a deep sea fishing trip planned with a family friend.  He was being forced to choose - fishing won.  He finished out the season and never seemed to look back.  There was always something else to do, anyway. 

One summer it was surfing.  Eric dropped off a group of boys in Cardiff every day on his way to work.  He picked them up at the end of the day.  Matt would come back wet, tan and tired.....and would get up and do it all again the next day.  Surfing ended up loosing out the the sport that lasted the longest....

BASKETBALL.....

Basketball outlasted everything else - and is still Matt's favorite today.   It has unfortunately been a bit unkind to him lately...he has lived through an ACL tear, Meniscus tear, and two surgeries.  We spent another hour in the Intermediate Care again last night, and are expecting that another surgery may be coming.   It doesn't seem to matter...he will keep playing.  For Matt...it's all about the movement.   I'm hoping that he earns a great deal of money in his future....he may need it to replace all of his joints at some point!

My first love...

Christopher was the first.  He was the one that convinced me that I could be a mother, in spite of all of my flaws.  He was my world for his first two years.  I remember going back to work after 2 months of being home with him and crying non-stop the first night.  It was so hard to leave.  I tried finding avenues to work at home - even doing a short stint with Arbitron Radio Ratings making calls from home.  Nothing brought the pay that we needed to survive so I was back at the Furniture Warehouse working night shift. 

One of the benefits of working for a furniture warehouse was the incredible number of large boxes available.  Chris would spend some evenings with me at work while I waited for the drivers to pick up their invoices for the next day.  I would create a whole box city for him to run through.  He loved it and was content for an amazing amount of time.  I'm not sure if my boss knew that Chris was spending so much time with me at work - I think that as long as I got my work done, he just sighed and turned his head.

Chris loved his Johny Jump Up - a contraption that I'm sure has been outlawed in more recent times.  We would hook it up to the doorway and he would jump and swing himself for hours.  Why we never thought about what would happen if the very heavy metal piece came crashing down on his head but apparently ignorance is bliss and God protects fools and children.  We never had a single accident with it.  He was a very easy baby, a quiet little boy, a pensive adolescent, a moody teenager and a self-assured man.  It's been amazing to see him grow and change over the years.

I was 24 when Christopher came along...he helped me to grow up and see what it was to care for someone else.  I had been a very self-absorbed young adult...responsible on the outside, a complete mess on the inside.  Even though I was married, I still didn't really know how to put my life down for someone else.  Chris and I went through ups and downs in his childhood....I made many mistakes (and I'm not just talking about those bangs....).  I learned a lot from him and his continual love for me. 

One of my favorite stories about Chris was from about 9 years ago.  All three boys were flying to Florida to see their Dad for a week.  I flew with them on the way out and then turned around 2 hours later to return to San Diego.  We had a plane change in Atlanta which required going to the complete opposite side of the airport.  As we jumped aboard the shuttle, Chris looked really worried.  I didn't ask for a few minutes, while I struggled to figure out where our next gate was.  After I got us settled, I asked him what he was thinking about.  He looked up, concerned, and said, "Mom, I don't thing I'm going to be able to get my brothers to the right plane on the way back...".  After giving him a very long hug, I assured him that they would be escorted from one plane to the next.  I came away, however, knowing that there was sense of responsibility growing in him with being the oldest.  This came out several other times in years earlier....once when he saw a dresser toppling on his little brother and put himself under it to protect him and another time when he pulled Matthew out of the pool when he fell in.  Glimpses of the man he would become.  Chris had many struggles as a child - some things that he was handed that just weren't fair.  Always, though, I knew that he would be OK...and I look at him now....and know that my intuition was right. 

Who is that Baby?

You can't have boys without spending a great deal of time on the floor.  One of our favorite games was "Stand on My Hands".  I would lay on the floor and the boys would stand on my hands, and then I would lift them in the air.  I would also flip them over my head and send them reeling into the living room.  This could explain why they were pretty independent early on when they were hurt.  I don't think they trusted that I would make it better!

Tommy was an expert at this game and would stand up forever if I would let him.  You can tell by the picture that I was much more into floor time than doing silly alternatives....like cleaning the house.  I'm not sure why we had a pile of laundry on the table but I'm only hoping it was clean. 

Now, Tommy was not a pretty baby.  He knows this.  I'm not being unkind...it's the truth.  He was born with red hair that grew into an old-man comb over in a matter of weeks.  His skin was milky-white (very concerning to his Hispanic father) and he was chubby in all the wrong places.  He had beautiful blue eyes that tended to have a "hey, how did I get here?" look to them.  Fortunately, this was just his awkward stage...he was just going through it about 12 years too early.  After a year, he grew into an absolutely striking toddler that could have become a professional people handler.  Everyone he had contact with was enthralled with him.

As a toddler, he was a complete tow-head.  Blond hair that bleached in the summer to almost white.  Skin that darkened just enough to look tan and a smile that could warm the coldest heart.  He brought one of my best friends to me.  She was teaching Sunday School and he became her constant companion.  Loree met me first as Tommy's mother.  She later became my saving grace when looking for day care for Christopher when he was starting Kindergarten. 

He also started his night owl tendencies very early.  We were living with my best friend from high school, Cheri and her husband Ron.  All four of us were sleeping in her living room of a one bedroom apartment.  All four of us would go to bed at the same time...and when the rest of us were asleep, Tommy would toddle into Cheri and Ron's bedroom to crawl into bed with them.  They liked to stay up late watching TV and Tommy loved the individual time that brought. 

This could explain why getting him to take Naps during the day didn't seem to be a problem!

Where is Mattie?

In line with Matt's graduation, I began remembering his first school experience.  I was attending Grossmont College for the RN program.  They had a wonderful day care on the campus - one I took advantage of for all three kids for a time.  Each one went through their pre-school before entering Kindergarten.  I loved being able to see the boys when I had a break from classes. 

One day, I was walking in the Quad and saw Matt's teacher.  I was excited to be able to see my baby boy for a few minutes on the way to class.  I walked up the to class and started scanning the kids for my little guy.  Hmmmm....where is he?  After a few minutes, I approached the teacher.
"I can't seem to find Matt....am I just missing him?"
She started scanning the group herself, and then stated out loud, "Where is Matt?" 

Now there's nothing to strike fear in your heart as a parent than the care provider asking you where your kid is. 

"ummmmm.....I don't know....I left him with you....", I pointed out.
She began to take on the frantic look that I am well aware of as a parent.  This was not helping me, I must add.

We started walking back to the class to figure out...what, I wasn't sure.  I just wanted by kid.  When we walked in the door, it was apparent what had happened. 

Matt was asleep in the corner....by himself....in a big room.  The teacher looked incredibley embarrassed...rightfully so.  I asked the simple question...."hmmmm...do you count heads or anything before you leave?"

I can guarantee you that they did after that day.  I did leave him there...it seemed that he would get closer attention for the remainder of his time there.  If nothing else, I knew at least he would be the first one that they would count!

My 3 Sons

One thing that has always amazed me is how three children with the same genetic makeup can be so different.  I used to joke that my boys looked like the Mailman, the Milkman and the Fedex Guy.  After looking at some pictures tonight, I found two that illustrated this point perfectly. 

Christoper was always the silent observer.   He would quietly sit and take in the situation, sometime stuck to my leg like a brace.   He was painfully shy in his early years.  I told one of his friends once that we could barely get him to talk when he was little.  He replied, "Really?  I can't ever get him to shut up!".  Chris is no longer shy and can talk nonstop about cars, animals, movies, etc all while he's taking his car apart in our garage.  Who would have known when he was five that he was just saving all of his words up for later?

Tommy was always the social butterfly.  Always the jokster, looking for the laugh, and I think at 3, he knew more people than I did.  We would go to church and people would continually come up to talk to him.  He continues with these attributes today.  If there is something to laugh about, Tommy will find it...and humiliate you with it...He does it with such charm that you really can't be mad.  But in my case...you can find ways to get even!

Matt was the active one....always on the go.  There was no way to hold him down and he resembled Pig-Pen when he was outside.  I could clean him up and the minute he hit the door, he was covered in dirt.   This would be my attempt to hold him for a picture...all he wanted was DOWN...DOWN....DOWN!!!  This started a long line of skate boarding, bike riding, surfing and sports.  There are few instances of seeing Matt sit still even now.

And then there's me....All I can say is that chasing three boys around left me much thinner.....Maybe I should have a few more....

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! 

Both of these pictures were taken at the same time.  I have a whole roll of pictures from that day.  I was trying to get some family pictures taken without going to the photographer of the day, Olan Mills.   A friend who was doing a side business as a photographer was helping us out.  Looking back, she did me a great service of grabbing the boys personalities and immortalizing them on film.  Now... if time would have stood still for just a little while longer.....

Scrapbooking by a Non Scrapper....

It's 1:00am and I can't sleep.  I've decided that I can't sleep because....I don't scrap book.  It's not that I haven't tried.  I even took a class.  I came away with four complete pages, a large box of colored paper and huge boxes of photos that are no more organized than when I started.   This is somehow attacking my motherhood.  Real mothers scrapbook....they have album after album of beautifully decorated pages that are framed with precision cut embellishments.  These will become family heirlooms for their children to share lovingly with their children....a legacy.  What will my children get?  Three big boxes of pictures.  And not even separated by child.  It will be a free-for-all.  I would feel better if at least they had a big financial inheritance coming their way.  No such luck...! 

So, I've decided to reclaim my "good" motherhood status and instead of scrapbooking, I will blog....with pictures and stories of our lifetime together.  I am deep down hoping that this is not some weird omen that I'm about to get hit by a Mac truck and the premonition is driving me to write things down.  Maybe I should type slowly just in case....

The title "It's another boy" comes from  Matt's birth.  I had no idea what I was about to have.  I went in the mother of two boys and everyone was telling me, "maybe it's a girl!".  Little did they know having a girl scared that heck out of me.  I knew what to do with boys...and even though I was a girl, I wasn't quite sure if I was good at it...you know, being a girl.  How the heck would I teach a little girl to be sweet and feminine?  Everyone in the operating room knew that I had two boys (I'm defective...I delivered all three by C-section).  I couldn't see anything - there was big blue sheet separating me from my bottom half.  When the doctor pulled Matt out, everyone was quiet for a brief moment.  The anesthesiologist broke the silence with "It's another boy!".  Ahhhhhh.....relief......I had three sons....I'm in my comfort zone.

So, this will be my legacy to my boys.  It may not make up for lack of money but I'm hoping they enjoy it just the same.  Dont' expect any rhyme or reason or chronological order.  For those of you that know me, you know my head is a complicated place.  It's something akin to the filing system at a government agency.  Doesn't make a heck of a lot of sense to anyone not doing the actual filing.  I'll take some time to look at my big box of pictures and write what comes to mind.  Come with me on the journey.  It's been quite a ride.....