The Grinch Grows a Heart

It's the last inning of the kid introductions. Hopefully this won't go into extra innings. I actually fear this part. Honestly, I fear it. How do I write about my three youngest daughters? If one of my sons were commissioned to write this post, it would be titled something like, "Introducing The Ones That My Dad Loves More Than Us Boys." This isn't true of course, though I must admit that I fully understand where they get their perceptions.

If you have never seen The Grinch, with Jim Carrey, you probably won't understand the title or this paragraph. There is a line in Seuss' famous poem that says, "And what happened then....? Well, in Who-ville they say, That the Grinch's small heart, Grew three sizes that day." In Howard's movie, The Grinch, played by Carrey, thrashes around on the ground clutching his chest in pain as only a Carrey character could (That was a remarkably fun alliteration). Well, as I'm sure you have guessed, having three girls in a row has caused my heart to grow, and for the record, Carrey did not over-exaggerate the pain that this kind of growth causes a grinch like me. So, though stalling from fear would be nice some might say, If I hope to move on to more blogs some near day, I will have to press on to the end 'fore I leave, and let you meet Gracie, Rebekah, and Eve. My apologies. I am no Dr. Seuss, but I had to give it a shot.

Grace Sophia came to us in a time when we needed both Grace and Wisdom (Sophia is the Greek word for wisdom). She was the most beautiful baby girl that there has ever been, and this is coming from one of those men that really can't see why people make such a fuss about new born babies. In my opinion, most newborns look like a miniature of an 80 year old man. Not Gracie. OK, stop that. Stop it! I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that all dads think that their daughters are the most beautiful babies in the world, but I'm not one of those guys. In fact, I don't really base my conclusion about Gracie's beauty on my own opinion. Everyone that held this particular baby remarked about her uncanny beauty. As an infant she was captivating. It was at this point in my life that my chest started to experience growing pains. The only thing that tempered the ache was the realization that this heart-breaker was someday going to be a young woman, and I was most likely going to be an incarcerated murderer. To this day, Grace is beautiful. She knows no strangers. No one in our home makes strangers feel like family as quickly as Grace. She is my girlie girl and through her we have learned Grace and some Wisdom.

I could probably have Rebekah write this paragraph. She is three, but she has a bigger vocabulary than I do in every area other than swear words. She only knows half the swear words that I do. Rebekah is my second chance (there is a long story hidden in that statement, but I will have to save it for future blogs). She is ridiculously smart and is a great communicator. She started talking early and was making short sentences when most babies are starting to talk. She has a gorgeous round face, with perfectly chubby cheeks, crazy blond curly hair, and a smile that drops this Grinch to the pavement. Honestly, I used to have a picture of her on my phone that actually caused pain in my chest when I looked at it. PHYSICAL pain. I can't explain it, but it was affection so deep that it hurt. I'll try to post the picture if I can find it, and figure out how to add pics to the blog. It was incidentally this picture that gave Esther the idea that my chest pain was my heart growing like the Grinch's. Rebekah has changed our house. She adds light to every room she is in.

Eve is a tiny little squirt of a girl that channels the spirit of Dennis the Menace on a good day, and Adolf Hitler on a bad one. She has straight bleach blond hair that hangs just into her eyes. She has clear blue eyes, and a adorable little smoker's voice. As far as we are aware, she has never been a smoker, though we bought her a nicotine patch just in case. Eve snuggles me. If you have never been snuggled by a blond-haired, blue-eyed, mini girl, I strongly recommend it. I actually managed to make it to my 11th child still impervious to the power of the snuggle. It was simple. Mom was for snuggling. Dad is for wrestling. Now, please know that I rocked my share to sleep, and I comforted the scraped knees, and gave the hugs and kisses. It's not that I am unaffectionate. I'm actually quite affectionate. But I'm talking about deep in the evening, drawing towards bedtime, drag in the blankie, purposefully climb into bed and curl up into a ball with dad's big arm protectively covering the little turd, type snuggling. Yep, you got it; nightly chest pain. Eve also has a temper. It's her mother's temper and it is barely counter balanced by how stinking adorable she is.

Isaac makes it a dozen. His name means "laughter" and you have never met a baby that smiles more easily. At the time of the writing of this blog, he is five months old. Just in case you have no children, five months is more than enough time to fall completely in love, especially when the object of you love is wrapped in baby fat. Isaac is a boy. This is not just an anatomical statement. He really is a boy. Even at five months old, he doesn't cry as emotionally or scream as ferociously. He loves being wrestled around and at five months old, he is beginning a rudimentary crawl. I have got to tell you, it feels good to have a baby boy in the house again. Isaac is incredibly easy. If you have to have 12 kids to get an Isaac, I recommend it for everyone.

So there they are. My kids. There are 12 of them. Josiah, Matthew, Elijah, Joshua, Zechariah, Hannah, Noah, Samuel, Grace, Rebekah, Eve, and Isaac. And for those of you who are wondering, yes it was as difficult to put down my feelings for my girls as I had feared it would be. If I was more comfortable with those emotions, I probably wouldn't be having these chest pains. Until Next Time...