ONE: Sloan Lee

Sloan Lee,

You, little man, are one whole entire year old. One year of your grunty laughs, your pudgy hands pawing at everything, your drool everywhere, and your heart-melting smile. One year since they laid you on my chest, we all checked to see if you were really a boy, and I couldn't believe the weight of you. To get to the first birthday always seems like a mind trick to me: on the one hand, it happens in a flash. And yet, on the other hand, it seems to take a very long time to get here. The first year is not an easy one, and yet I can honestly say with you it was the easiest first year we've experienced in this family. Moving into a new house and doing a major renovation was, without a doubt, one of the most stressful things we have ever done. You were only two months old when this happened, and yet you were a light and a joy in the midst of the chaos. 

Sloan, I think you were the first child I was not just a little bit scared to have. With Blythe I was excited, but it was all so fresh and new and I just didn't know what being a mother meant or what any of it really entailed. With Becks I was nervous about adding to our family-- what would caring for TWO children look like? Could I handle it? My transition to one was so hard, would two break me? And then with Nan I felt like we were really entering the danger zone and possibly biting off more than we could chew. Jumping from two to three was challenging. And then I lost a baby, Sloan. My fourth baby was never born alive on this earth, and so I think by the time I knew of your existence inside of me my heart had been refined by fire. I had learned the opposite of faith isn't unbelief, but it is fear. And so I open my hands and decided to welcome you without fear; to welcome you with a heart full of faith in our very big God who can turn ashes into beauty. And transitioning to a family of six was the easiest transition yet. 

Blythe wanted to add the little dinosaur for one picture:) 

 I think a few things factored into this year for us. First, my faith had grown and I knew God was kind and gracious enough to fill in all of my gaps as a mother. I knew you were fine in His hands, and so mine felt much lighter. Another factor was that I was 32 and no longer 25, like I was when I first became a mom. I was out of my internship years. Which I think, when you're a parent, simply means that you move up only because you've learned you don't know very much and you're in control of very little. You would think this would stress you out more as a parent, but in a weird way it just completely relaxes you and mellows you out. And the final factor, of course, was you. From the get go you were just a pretty awesome guy. Sure, you can be loud, you cry, you poop your pants, etc. But your soul seems steady.

 You don't cuddle and show affection, and yet we can tell you're head over heels for us. Some of your favorite things include eating, eating, and eating. ;) But you also enjoy being outside, your sisters [when they aren't man-handling you], wrestling with your dad, and taking baths. You're favorite word [and probably person] is "Dada! Dada! Dada!" You will eat anything we put in front of you. One thing that was different with you this year than with your sisters was that I didn't nurse you. You were bottle fed from month two on, and you were a champ at it. It was the absolute best decision for us, and I'm so glad we did it. Around ten months I switched you to a sippy cup and whole milk, and within a week you had totally transitioned just fine. You've always taken great naps, and you are ready for bed by seven o'clock. You're still primarily crawling because you are a speed-demon at it, but for the past month you've been taking lots and lots of steps. You'll walk clear across the living room, so I think a full transition to walking is coming up soon. I'm a little sad about it, only because you do the cutest thing when you crawl: you ball your right fist up like an ape and crawl on your knuckles. Just trust me, it's the cutest, and I'll probably make you reenact it when you're 16.

Sloan Lee, we prayed for you from the moment we knew it was you. We prayed you would be filled with courage, and that you would have a gentleness from the Spirit that permeates your life. We prayed that you would have wisdom, knowing the right next thing even in the hard times. And we prayed that you would remain steadfast, committed and devoted to your God and to your future family and friends, the kind of steadfast love that resounds with The Most Steady Love anyone could ever know. And we've continued to pray these traits for you over the past year, and we will continue to as you grow.

One funny thing this year to watch has just been your sheer size. You were our biggest baby by well OVER a pound, and you didn't slow down! Everyone always guesses you are months beyond your actual age. None of your sisters weighed even twenty pounds when they turned a year, and you are pushing thirty. We love it. You're very tall, and very piiiiiinnnnnchable, as your dad would say. You also hold onto us when we are carrying you-- your grip our arm, clench your legs, and you're just very sturdy. We feel like we could let go and you would still be holding us! It's one of your dad's favorite things about you right now, and something he says he wants to always remember is your grip on his arm like that.

This is our last first birthday to celebrate. And I want to celebrate and enjoy these last firsts with you, and not miss them because I'm already lost in the nostalgia of it all. I can't wait for this year of firsts with you, even if they are our last ones!

Sloan, we just love you to pieces. Your auburn hair and your deep brown eyes and lashes have us hooked. It's always funny how quickly a completely new human can just become the norm, but it was almost instant with you buddy-- as soon as we brought you home, it was as if we couldn't remember life before you. Thank you for filling this year with your peels of joy, your raspy and grunty voice, and cheerio trails everywhere. Thank you for teaching me more about the Father's great love for us all. On first birthdays I always have to wonder: what will this little life become? And while I don't know what you will do with your life, I know if you stay as you are now, you will love others fiercely along the way...and I know others won't be able to help but loving you as well. I pray you lead well and love well, and always point beyond yourself to the Gospel.

And you will find out, I end all birthday letters the same, sweet Sloan: we hope you understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and in our words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go our on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that it was Grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all.

We love you, Sloan Lee. There is nothing you could ever do that would keep us from loving you.

Sloan's birth story

Story behind the name: SLOAN LEE

First letter I wrote Sloan, at 20 weeks

Hopes and dreams and another letter

All of the girls wore the same outfit for their one year pictures. I knew I wanted to somehow include a piece of it, someway, in Sloan's. So I asked Brent's mom, Joan, if she thought she could make a bow tie for him out of the skirt. And boy did she deliver! I love that it was a part of all of these memories for us: 

Blythe at one year

Becks at one year

Nan at one year

FIVE

Becks Lynae,

I remember calling my sister several years ago when her oldest daughter, your cousin Caroline, was turning five. She said she had cried. I mean, sure, it was hard to believe Caroline was turning five, but tears? I thought they were maybe a little unnecessary.  But I remember feeling a lot of emotion when Blythe turned five, and now being here with you, my second born, at age five? I think I’m more tearful than before. Because now I understand what I didn’t understand when I made that phone call to my sister all those years ago—five is a precipice. It is the first domino that falls and once they start falling I can’t grab ahold of them quickly enough to make them all stop. It’s an end of so much—your toddler years, your days home with me, simple days, few outside influences, etc. But I have to remember it is also a beginning of so many beautiful things—education and school friends, ball games, a growing mind and deeper conversations. So am I sad you’re turning five? No. My tears are not from sadness, they are from nostalgia—an ache that knows this beautiful little kid season with you is beginning to end. But they are also from excitement knowing you are about to step into so many big and wonderful things, and knowing our relationship will now change and grow and deepen. 

This past year with you has maybe been my favorite, Becks. Don’t get me wrong, you were SO adorable and fun the first few years, but man you were difficult too. You were just so stubborn and defiant. But this year you really turned a corner and you’ve listened and obeyed so much better. You are helpful and inquisitive. You can find a quiet corner and occupy yourself for hours. You have developed an awesome sense of humor and have quite the fashion sense, too. You always make comments on what your dad and I are wearing, and even tell us if you think we need to change.

Your favorite friends right now are your sisters. You and Blythe especially can play from sun up to sun down with very little direction from me. And you and Nan have grown leaps and bounds since the beginning of the school year—when you choose to be you are very patient with her and have been a great teacher. You were honestly a HUGE help to me when it came time to potty train Nan, and you took your role quite seriously. You also took to Sloan immediately this year when he joined our family. You would sit and hold him for such a long time, and you were always willing to help feed him or entertain him if I needed to do something else. This transition to a family of six wouldn’t have been as easy without your help.

You are my feeler. You just intuit things differently than the other kids and you process things through your heart. When the other girls get hurt, you cry more than they do. Papa took you hunting a month ago and you were asking questions about if it was okay to shoot the girl deer because they were the ones that had babies. If I am ever not feeling well you come and check on me frequently. The end of my pregnancy with Sloan was very difficult and there were times I was stepping up or down or moving through the house and maybe had a grimace on my face and I would look up and you’d be watching me with concern across yours. A friend recently broke her arm and when I told you about it and showed you her picture, you didn’t ask what most people would ask [“How did it happen?”]—you asked, “Is that the arm she writes with?” You were concerned for her day to day functions. You notice when others are hurting, and right now it kind of paralyzes you in some ways, but I pray that as you get older that it will prompt you to help and move you to action in ways it won’t for others because they may not even notice what your heart seems to naturally see. I actually just read a description in my book [The Clockmaker's Daughter] the other night about a character, and it could have been written about you: "[She] had only to feel in order for those feelings to be known. [She] was dramatic, charming, fun, and funny. [She] was hard work; sunshine in human form; thunderous." 

You and I got to do preschool together this year. Again, it just made the most sense to not drive somewhere, and it gave me one more year with you home. I was a little concerned about what this would look like, because you and I are a lot alike in a lot of ways. But I didn’t know you would mature this year in such fun ways, and it has been an absolute joy of mine to get to be your teacher. You loved to learn, and while it looked different than it did with Blythe, it was fun and interactive and you soaked it up. You are still pretty timid about new situations and lots of people, so I have been a little concerned about how your transition to Kindergarten would go in the fall. But now that we are in May I have no doubt that by August you’ll be so very ready and do wonderful. Actually, the night before you turned five you looked at me and asked, “So do I get to go to Kindergarten tomorrow?” You’re very excited and it thrills my heart to see how far you’ve come in your ability to try new things.

One of those new things for you is Tball. You knew that since you were turning five you would be able to play this year and you could not wait. You wanted [and received] and ball bag for your birthday, and the day of your first practice you woke me up at 7 asking me to help you put on your cleats. I’ve had the rare opportunity to get to be your coach this year too, and getting to watch you make new friends and try new things and practice skills and improve because you really want to has been incredibly fun. You’re still very small for your age, so some of the girls on our team are twice your size [and they will pick you up like you’re a toddler], but this doesn’t seem to intimidate you in the least bit. You can’t throw the ball very far yet, but you are getting faster and faster. I didn’t know if you’d actually play the first game though because when we pulled up to the field it was sprinkling and Blythe said, “Oh no! The lines are going to go away!” and your eyes got great big and you said, “There are LIONS here!?”

You have a tender little heart, Becks, and I feel like you’re pretty in tune with Spirit a lot of times because you’ll ask questions about God that I’ve never even thought about. The other day you asked me if I would make a sign for right above your bed that said, “Jesus, help to not have bad dreams and only have good dreams and I love you forever.” You make me laugh and you help me be creative and you’ve taught me boatloads about patience and consistency. You love to be outside [especially on nature days with papa], you’re our best eater, and you will do anything Blythe does. You have an uncanny sense of how and when to push someone’s buttons. You love to be barefoot, require the least amount of sleep of any of the kids, and would sit in someone’s lap and let them scratch you and hold you forever. You still love to bake and cook with me, you constantly sing songs [especially while going to the bathroom], and the first thing you want done every day is to put your hair in a ponytail.

You really study situations and people, and then a lot of times you’ll mimic their actions [once you even mimicked a woman sashaying her bikini-clad self at the pool one time!Ha!]. And while I love that you are curious, and that you notice things many others don’t, I pray you learn your own drumbeat too. What I mean by that is, I hope you don’t study others so closely that you forget that God made you uniquely—that He poured His gifts into you in ways He didn’t others, and because of that you get to reflect His image. Don’t forget that—stay curious, observe, reflect—but remember that the Only One who’s image you should be trying to imitate is that of Christ.

One of your favorite things to do is correct your sisters [or anyone really] when they are singing because you think you are the master of all lyrics. My favorite one recently was when I walked in and you were telling Nan, “No, Nan. It goes, ‘Father Abraham, and maybe sons…’” You just kind of like to come of with your own way of saying things in general. Like when you were playing outside and it started sprinkling so you ran inside and said, “It’s pittering out there!” Once you were trying to get Nan to come show me something and you were saying, “Nan, come on!” but she wouldn’t come. Finally you said, “Nan! I’m just gonna show you to mommy, I’m not gonna kill you or something!” And once your dad was getting you with his beard, kissing you all over, and when he stopped you threw your hands up to your cheeks and said, “Is my face on fire?!” You’re just so much fun to be around.

And as I always do, I will end this FIVE year old letter with this: Your dad and I hope you always understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go out on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that it was Grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all.

Happy fifth birthday, Becks Lynae! There is nothing you can ever do that will ever make us stop loving you!