9

Today is Braeden's birthday. He turned 9. 9!  I'm still in disbelief.  He's the one that made Amy and I parents. The one who taught us about diapers, sleepless nights, and fevers. But he also taught us about hugs, silliness, and love. I'm not sure if I've shared the story of Braeden's birth before. If I have, sorry, this may be a repeat for you. But it's a great story and one that we love to remember often, especially once a year. 

I think back to that day, 9 years ago, when I was at work. We'd recently relocated back to Houston due to Hurricane Katrina and found ourselves expecting. We hadn't fully committed to staying, we still wanted to return to New Orleans and the life we'd begun to build there. But then, suddenly, everything changed. It couldn't be just about Amy and I anymore. Nope, we would soon have this tiny little human who would depend solely on us. We had to start thinking about what was best for him. So, we made the touch decision to stay in Houston. It was back home for us, near our families and everything we'd grown up with. We were starting to rebuild. Amy had found another job and I was subbing and working as a teacher aide until I could find a position myself. We were staying with my parents and searching for an apartment.  All was slowly settling. 

May 5. We were still over a month away from the due date.  We had plenty of time to plan. Right?  To pack. To prep the apartment we'd moved into. To sort, wash, sterilize, and learn about all of the baby gear we had been blessed with. We had some time still.  Wrong. I was working Extended Care when I received the call. Amy thought maybe her water had broken. Say what?!  But she thought it might be a false alarm. I decided to head home early anyway, to check on her. Halfway home another call. Nope, this was the real thing. Forget heading home, we would meet at the hospital. It looked as though it was go time.

But things were to take another turn from our plans. He was breech. Yep. Breech. As I'd been  he wouldn't turn and Amy wasn't laboring. So the decision was presented to us: c-section. What?!  As scary as having a baby was, this tripled, maybe even quadrupled that. But here we were and there was no turning back. Not now so we moved forward, no other choice really.  So anxious and praying we went. 

After the surgery all seemed well. Braeden was small but not tiny. He was healthy. Sent to the NICU for monitoring since was considered pre-term. The next day all was well. Here was this tiny little thing that, just less than a day before, had seemed like some distant thing we'd been planning for.  But he was here. Now. Soon we learned that he was having som eblood sugar issues, trouble maintaining it. He was pricked so much on his little foot for testing that he still bears a birthmark-like scar that wasn't there when he was born. We now began to worry. There was a chance that Amy would be discharged before him if they couldn't get it all squared away.  Again, anxious and praying we moved forward, waiting to see what would happen. 

Luckily all worked out and he was able to be discharged with Amy, stabilized and ready for home. So we packed up this little bundle of joy and headed home to our new life as a family of 3.  Visitors came. More gifts were bestowed. Bags were unpacked. We started to settle into our new normal and Amy and I, so very naively, thought that not much has changed. This parenting thing didn't seem so difficult. Yeah, that didn't last long. Little man had his plans to teach us and train us as parents.

9 years. I don't know how I'll feel next year when it will be an entire decade!  He's grown into such an amazing person. Sure, there are rough times, there always will be. But deep down he's a good kid. A loving him brother. A loyal friend. A close cousin. A devoted grandson. A son. Our son. The first one. 

Happy 9th Birthday Braeden. I love you. 

All is well, 9 years and counting, in Drosche Land. 

Take Me Out To the Ball Game

Today was Jackson's first baseball game.

I'm not sure if I've posted about it before or not, but we signed him up for spring baseball at school.  It's with most of his classmates in school, the same boys that he played soccer with in the fall.  The same boys that played basketball together over the winter, but we took a break and skipped that sport.  He had such a great time with soccer and it's a comfortable and easy transition for him into sports.  The familiarity of the players, the coaches (players' dads), practice at school.  It all makes for a good way for him to get into a sport.

There wasn't such a team for Braeden at school to join and we missed the deadlines for all of the teams we looked into.  But, such is life.  He is alright with it, for the most part.  Plus, instead of joining a summer league, he wanted to go away to camp for a week.  We were very supportive about that idea so our funds were allotted to that.  Next year he will be in 4th Grade and will likely be able to play up on the school's JV teams, soccer and maybe basketball.  We are all so excited about that.

Jackson never played Tee Ball like Braeden did so many years ago.  He was too young when Braeden played and then the boys got into soccer.  So it was understandable that we were all nervous about his foray into a new sport, especially because his first time at bat (literally and figuratively) would be coach pitch and he's already broken his nose before.  But we went forward with it, full of timid excitement and eagerness.

Sadly though I had to miss today's opening game for the season.  Braeden was involved in PSIA, an academic competition, and had his Spelling test this morning.  At the same time as Jackson's game.  On the other side of town.  So Amy and I split up and kept each other updated via texts and pictures.  What did parents do before smart phones?  Before cell phones?  Thank goodness we don't live in those dark ages and can instantly remain updated and see the action in real time, regardless of our location.

So, it was a busy day here in Drosche Land.  Braeden did not do as well as he would have liked in his competition and his day fell short of expectations.  However, it was his first time and he now have gained experience that will be valuable next year when we prep for the competition.  Jackson, on the other hand, experienced a day filled with newness and winning.  He himself made 3 runs and his team won the game!  He, as everyone else, was very proud.  Mixed emotions for us all though, cheering up a downed son and cheering on an elated one.  But, such is the life of a parent I guess.

But the day is drawing to a close and everyone is tired and relaxing.  Our weekends belong to baseball until May so many hot, tired, and sunburned days lie ahead.  But it will surely be fun and worth it.

All is well, win or lose, in Drosche Land.

Hormonal

No, not me.  Not Amy either.  I'm talking about the kids here.  2/3 of them.

Who knew they would grow up so fast?  Who knew times had changed so much since I was their age.  But, let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we.  Let's begin slowly.  One child at a time.

Stella.  Maybe you have heard about the term "threenager" or maybe you haven't.  Well, it is basically the term used to describe three-year-olds and their attitudes/hormones/drama and how closely related they are to an actual teenager.  Well, if this is true then Stella, who will be turning 3 in June, is on the cusp of this stage.  A pre-threenager so to speak.  

Maybe it is because of her age.  The "terrible twos" giving way to "threenager".  Maybe it's the fact that she is a girl.  Or maybe, just maybe, it is because I'm just a tad older at this point than I was with the boys.  Gasp!  Note, I said older, not old.  Not old.  Regardless, she has quite the personality and makes life, well, interesting.  She's opinionated.  She's loud (oh my girls are so much louder (and screamier) than boys).  She's my little princess.  Yes, despite all of these things, she has me (and the rest of us here in Drosche Land) wrapped around her little finger.  All she has to do is smile at me or hug me and my Daddy heart melts.

Next up.  Braeden.  Oh my.  The moodiness and drama begins in 3rd Grade now?!  Really?!  Well, it does here, and in talking to others we are not alone.  I guess 8 is the new 10?  He has always been emotional (gets it from me honestly) but this year it is at a whole new level.  Random drama for seemingly no reason.  Pouting.  Sighing.  Eye-rolling.  You name it, we've got it.  But again, deep down he is an amazing child.  Destined to be a big brother, he prides himself in caring for Stella and catering to her every whim, despite how it may inconvenience him.  He's totally addicted to sports of any kind and excels at them with practically no effort.  He makes me proud.

So, at times these two can make life frustrating and maddening, but at the end of the day I am so thankful for them both.  They are a true blessing and I know that this stage (no matter how long it may seem) will pass.  Years from now I know I will look back on these days and laugh at how crazy they seemed.  I'll probably even miss them, somewhat.  HA!

All is well, pre-teen and pre-threen included, in Drosche Land.