by E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear;

and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)

i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;

which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Has it really been seven years since we became one? People say there should be an itch. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t describe it like that, but I’m not sure exactly just how to describe it. I do know that I take you for granted. Your easy-goingness, your forgiving nature, the fact that you give the benefit of the doubt to people that I would so easily judge for bad… I forget that all that you are is everything that I ever needed in life. With my critical attitude, I treat you like you are not enough, but the truth is, you’re much more than I could ever deserve. I react with jealousy because I’m afraid this won’t last – because I’ve never known good things to last. I have a long way to go, and I know it, and I thank you for your patience. Thank you for being so much of the good in me.

I love you. Happy anniversary.

He’s been with us for a mere month and already I can’t remember life without him – nor can I imagine life without him, for that matter. He had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and weighs 11 lb. 14 oz., which means he’s gained 3 lbs since his birth (despite battling a cold recently). It’s amazing how infant weight gain can be such a source of pride for a mother. There’s nothing like bragging how big your baby is compared to other babies. The doctor put him on his tummy to test his neck strength and was surprised at how well and long he pushed his head up. He’s got three older sisters to protect, so strength will be a definite asset. Even though he’s the baby, I imagine him taking care of all of his sisters one day.

His cold started out pretty innocent, as far as symptoms go, but today a wretched sounding cough started. I cringe each time I hear it, and my one remedy so far is to pick him up and kiss the fat on his neck and cheeks - as if I could actually love the sickness right out of him. I don’t know why it wouldn’t work, actually, since holding him seems to make everything better, no matter what’s bothering him. He’s a delightful baby and loves being near me. Sometimes, when I’m at my most exhausted, I put him next to me in bed, his head on the pillow next to mine. He faces me, our noses practically touching, and we fall to sleep breathing each other’s breath.

The girls are loving him more every day. Jolie and Tess practically smother him, and I’m constantly reminding them not to touch his face. Jolie recently discovered and pondered his male anatomy and asked, “Why is his pee so…” she paused to find the right word, “…ruined?” After I recovered from that one I got to explain a few things. Oh the joys of parenting. As far as my fantasy of Everett protecting his sisters goes – ruined pee-pee or not – Jolie has total confidence in him. I was going upstairs to get Tess from Isaac the other day and Jolie said she’d go with me so I wouldn’t be scared. “I’m not scared,” I told her, “Jesus is with me.” “Well, I’m scared.” she said. Then she remembered her sleeping brother downstairs. “Oh, nevermind. I’m not scared. Everett’s down there.”

I might have even mentioned this in my last birth story – the story of Tess – but living remotely and traveling to wait to have a baby is a huge adventure. The getting ready, the living elsewhere for who knows how long, the questions from strangers about the baby. Isaac and I talked one day in Ketchikan about the fact that we are so secretive about the baby to family, friends, and acquaintances: not only do we not find out the gender, but we also don’t share the names we’ve chosen. Unless, of course, you’re a perfect stranger, then there’s no hesitation. We just both love to surprise others so much. And what does it matter if you surprise a perfect stranger? You’ll probably never talk with them again anyway. That’s part of the adventure, I guess. But aside from that it is also a little scary, and nerve-wracking, and inconvenient. While normally one waits in their own home preparing for the birth: cleaning, freezing meals, and any other nesting-activity, we have been, for the last three births, uprooted to wait elsewhere, where we were practically forced to do nothing but hang out. And as impatient as I felt at times to get my labor to start, our girls loved the experience. I’m sure it would have grown old after a while. After all, we were only there for ten days. But the days before the birth are filled with happy moments that, just like the moments before the births of Jolie and Tess, will forever hold a special place in my heart. Moments that have produced a love for Ketchikan that I cannot explain, I’m sure.

So, we had been in Ketchikan for 6 days. It was Saturday. I was really hoping for a 2010 baby (pfd, taxes) and was filled with extra anxiety before the new year that dramatically decreased once the clock struck midnight. I knew at once that it wasn’t meant to be, so I slept peacefully knowing the baby would come when it would come, and there would be no willing it out, no matter how many miles I walked. I was also in the process of reading a book called the Bait of Satan and knew that the Lord wanted me to read more before the birth so I spent some time each night reading before I went to sleep.  On Saturday we saw some Thorne Bay friends, the Jensens, who had driven a Suburban back from Minnesota for us to buy. Diedre asked if I felt anything happening, and I didn’t, so she suggested washing the floor. As much as I like to clean , I didn’t do that, but Grandma and Grandpa, Isaac, the girls and I all went out to a beach park where we walked around and admired the landscape. The girls played and played on some playground equipment there and some of us took some pictures while climbing around on some huge rocks.  It was some time after the climbing that I felt the baby drop: an intense pressure that was very low. When we got back to downtown, I suggested a walk, so Isaac and I walked a brisk pace for about 30 minutes, returned to the hotel for some dinner (of which I ate very little). I was apprehensive to mention the baby dropping because it wasn’t necessarily indicative of impending labor and I didn’t want to get everyone excited for nothing. I fell asleep for a good hour or so and then was up again suggesting another walk. Isaac and I walked even farther this time, all the way to the vacation rental we had stayed in last time while we waited for Tess to be born. The rest of the evening was pretty standard. The pressure had become not so deafening, so I actually went to bed feeling pretty sure that nothing was going to happen that night. But I was wrong.

Thirty minutes later (10:15) I woke up to a gush of water and hurried to the shower, managing to not get any fluid on the bed or floor. I stood under the shower faucet for a good 20 minutes waiting for contractions to start but felt nothing. Isaac called the hospital at about 10:45 and they told him to bring me in and shortly after he hung up I felt my first contraction. He called his parents to come be with the girls and we got ourselves ready for the hospital. I remember feeling hugely relieved that the process had started and that it wouldn’t be much longer until we could return home. Not to mention that we would have a new baby in our arms. Isaac’s mom had a very sober look on her face as she kissed us goodbye. I remember telling her that I would be just fine. We were a little nervous about my history of hemorrhaging, but we had a lot of people praying for us and I felt God’s presence so strongly that it made me peaceful.

We checked into the hospital at around 11:30 and the nurse said I was at a 5 or 6. Isaac filled up the tub for me and I labored in there for an hour or so (how nice it must be to actually give birth in one of those!) before I felt an urge to push. When checked again, I was between a 9 and 10, so the midwife said that I could start pushing whenever I wanted. The urge lessened, however, and I wondered if my body was, as in the past, giving up at the last minute. They started the pitocin drip and about 20 minutes later (around 1:00 a.m.) I felt the urge coming back. Two big contractions back to back got him out and at 1:06 a.m., Baby Everett Wallace Martin entered the world surprising his mama and his papa. I was so enamored that I cried. I guess I had forgotten how much I had always wanted a son.

I had so many good intentions this year. Many of them were seen through. Others were not. I had really wanted to get back into the whole online journaling thing – but somehow got too caught up with being a wife, mom of three, church secretary, Friends of the Library treasurer, library volunteer, and pregnant woman.  I can’t imagine why I couldn’t manage to update everyone every once in a while, at least. Everyone chooses their priorities, and I guess blogging isn’t a big one for me these days, but I wanted to write at least once this year to recap our adventures…

Our first big event of 2010 was putting an offer down on a house directly across the street from our school district housing unit. The whole ordeal took place between March and June and took up a lot of our time and energy during those months, but we’re very happy to be in our own house now, with a yard and more space, a garage and a view.  We feel very blessed to be there (although our girls miss their old tiny house with no yard, view, or garage – go figure).

In March we visited Isaac’s family in Southern California over spring break.  We all took a cruise to Ensenada and, although we loved being together, experienced some tough times as some of us got sick.  One of us was even removed from the ship and put into an Ensenada hospital, only to be sent home via bus and train back to L.A. It was great to see everyone though, as we are reminded each time we spend the time and money to visit family that it is well worth the effort. Just to see our girls getting to know our families is better than anything else we could ever give them.

We got a dog this year: a Chesapeake Bay Retriever born the day after Tess turned one.  He was eight weeks old when the breeder flew him up to Ketchikan. Isaac flew over on the float plane and met him at the airport there, spent the night in the Super 8 with him, and then flew home the next morning. The girls and I met them at the float plane dock, but really, he’s been Isaac’s dog ever since. They say Chessies pick one person to be their master, and Coach (short for Royal Coachman) has definitely chosen Isaac.

In April we found out we are expecting  baby #4. The girls were very excited about the news, as were we, although a little shocked at the same time.  By the time we found out we were in the process of buying a home AND getting a dog.  What’s one more huge life change thrown in there?

In May Isaac traveled with his drama class to the Last Frontier Theater Conference in Valdez, where they were able to hear Isaac’s play L.O.L. read by professional actors and actresses. He also had the chance to see old friends, and even stayed at our old church during his time there.

The summer was busy. I learned about gardening, canning, and sewing. Isaac learned about building fences and gates and dog training. The girls learned how to keep cool in the Thorne Bay sun (by “swimming” in the cold water of the hot tub) and how to pick things from the garden after they have ripened and not before. Coach learned not to bite, how to heel, sit, and come. We were able to gather our share of wild berries, salmon, and deer (thanks mostly to Isaac, although the girls did help quite a bit with the berries, and I helped package and can fish and venison). We had our share of visitors, too. Our friend Vern traveled from Southern California to spend a week with us at the beginning of July. We spent a couple of days up at Whale Pass dipnetting salmon and watching black bears. We had visitors from Valdez, our friends Brian and Jessica with their 2 sons Erik and Jackson in early August. Isaac’s mom visited in late August and taught me a lot of what I know now of sewing. The weather was beautiful for pretty much the entire summer so our guests got to see a sunny Thorne Bay (which isn’t always the case).

My mom visited in mid-September and got to celebrate an early birthday for Jolie, who turned 3.  She is a beautiful, caring, intelligent 3-year old who keeps us on our toes. Not unlike her sister Tess, who has started talking so much that we are amazed each day by her ability to negotiate with us.  Sophia turned 5 this year and learned how to read over the summer. She is a major help to me with the younger ones, as she spends part of each day reading to one or both of them. She is in Kindergarten this year but really wants to be in 1st grade instead (her class is only half-day and she would rather go for a full day.)

Isaac coached volleyball again in the fall, but this year as the actual coach and not the assistant. He traveled to Ketchikan for a tournament and then to Hoonah.  My childhood friend Samantha and her baby Ali came and stayed with me and the girls on his second trip so that I wouldn’t go insane.  And I really think I would have – thanks again, Sam.

Halloween was fun – the girls went to the school carnival dressed as an Indian Princess (Sophia), a kitty (Jolie), and a ladybug (Tess). It was great getting to use that ladybug outfit a third time.  Twenty dollars well spent.

We spent Thanksgiving at home with our friends Steve and Amy and their daughter Autumn. Amy is also pregnant and is due shortly after me. The two of us struggled to work together in the kitchen AND keep an eye on the 4 children (the guys went hunting), so she finally volunteered to keep the kids occupied while I got the pies put together and in the oven. We had a nice dinner together and were very thankful when everything was finally on the table.

And then there was Christmas. Between volleyball season coming to an end, the community Christmas dinner, decorating, baking, getting the house ready for a new baby – it all seems kind of a blur to me now. The girls loved the lights and the songs and playing with their nativity scene. They loved reminding us what Christmas is really about: Jesus.

The day after Christmas we got on the ferry for Ketchikan to come over and wait for the baby to be born, which is where we’ve been ever since. Isaac’s parents arrived the day after we did and have been entertaining the girls while Isaac and I run errands and go for walks. We are very lucky to have had all of our parents come to help us while we’ve waited for our babies. Many of our best memories together as a family have been in this very town as we wait as patiently as possible for our newest ones to enter into the world. Please pray for us in the following days that God will have His hand on us as we become a family of 6.

We hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and we wish you a happy New Year!

Love,

The Martin Family

Our bedtime routine goes more or less something like this: diapers and jammies on, brush teeth, read stories, say prayers, kisses to Tess (who is then carted off to the pack ‘n play in the spare room where the girls won’t bother her sleep), kisses and hugs to both girls, and then a “story from when you were a little kid” from me or Isaac (depending on who has the energy that night).  Sounds easy enough – eh?  Not really, but that will have to be saved for another day.  Tonight, I was nominated to deliver a story.  I had quite a time thinking of one, as in my mind I ran over the different eras of my life (California Days? No.  Knight Island?  Knik River Road? Something about the stepbrothers and sisters? No. No. No. Most of that’s been covered.)  Finally I decided to recant something from my “Year in Germany”.  The story (with comments from a certain 4-year old) went something like this.

“So, let’s see.  Well, you guys know I speak a little German to you now and again right?  Well, that comes from the year I spent in Germany.  I remember the day I left for Germany…I don’t think Uncle Gregory came with us to the airport.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t know.  Good question.  All I remember is that he and I did dishes together that evening.  We were having such a good conversation and we were laughing a lot and all of a sudden I was sad to be going.”

“Why”

“Because I was going to be leaving for a whole year and knew that I would miss him, and thought for just a split second of maybe not going after all.”

“Why”

“Because I thought Gregory needed me there.  We needed each other.  Anyway, I remember that he didn’t go with us to the airport because Opa and I said goodbye to him out in the driveway and then took off down the road.  I glanced back at one point and saw Gregory running after us and waving.  I thought maybe he was sad that I was leaving.”

“Why was he sad.”

“Well, because one day when you go away from home we’ll be sad that you’re leaving, too.”

The misty eyes came before this last sentence, but after it, the flood gates were opened.

“What’s the matter, babe?  What did I say?  Why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because you said something very naughty, Mama!”

“What?”

“That I have to go away!”

“No, no.  I said when you go away.  Like to college, or when you get married.  Don’t you want to do that?”

“No.”

“Okay, you can just live with us then - as long as you want.”

“Until I die?”

“Sure.”

These kids…man, oh, man.  Sometimes I find myself embracing them and never wanting to let go, lately I find myself I’m hiding from them.  And as long as it takes for them to find me is what I consider to be my “alone time”.  It usually lasts about a minute or less (our house is very small), but hey, it’s something.  I never realized how much I am really needed or how many times I get up from a sitting position during the day to meet their needs, until I was stricken with the flu.  I’ve spent the last few days doing the kind of “half-sleep” that only parents know.  With the eye closest to the couch closed, while the other opens and closes every 30 seconds or so to do patrol.  “Resting your eye”, I guess you can say.  I’ve also found myself waiting, praying, for the sleep jerks of a sick child, and then the slow, steady, deep breathing, so that I know it’s safe to venture back to my own bed. 

I wonder, did my mom and dad feel for my sleep jerks, too?  Being the 5th of 7 children, I highly doubt it.  Most often, I probably just fell asleep during whatever evening activity was taking place.  I have many memories of falling asleep in one spot and waking up in my bed the next morning surprised, always thinking that I sleep-walked there.  Other times I actually remember the weightlessness I felt as my dad or mom toted me off to bed, head on shoulder.  Unlike my own children, I’m pretty sure I “transfered well”.

The worst thing about the kind of flu I had, though, was that it was feverless.  A fever is always the best excuse to get people feeling really sorry for you, to the point where they demand that you get some rest.  “The chills”? Doesn’t sound so serious.  “Aching muscles”? That either.  But a fever?  Yes, get into bed this very instant, young lady.  No dishes, no laundry, and above all, no taking care of children until you are better!  Yeah, no such luck. 

So, what do you do in such a situation?  The key is to make yourself look, and sound, as sick as you feel.  The hair is very important.  Whatever you do, don’t redo your ponytail mid-day.  Let the hair, and hair tie, fall where it may creating a very “sick” look.  Sweatpants (or any type of jammie pants, really) are “sick” attire.  Anything really well worn is preferred.  And when you answer the phone – give it as much croak as possible.

The day I came down with it started at a lovely 4:45 a.m.  Sophia came into the guest bed where I was trying to get Tess to go back to sleep and ended any chance of that.  She hacked and hacked until Tess was so wide awake she was doing her “happy talk”.  And once the happy talk starts, there’s no going back to sleep in our house.  “Why did you have to come in here Sophia?” I asked, knowing that the day had begun and dreading it.  A minute or so later, as I lay there feeling sorry for myself, she began to get back out of the bed.  When I asked where she was going, she said, “I’m going to go out there and cough so it doesn’t bother you.”  Talk about a heart breaker.

So, tonight, after I said she could live with us forever, I backtracked just a bit and suggested that maybe she can do what she’s mentioned before and have a house next to ours and that I can come over and visit every day.  And she said, “No, I’ll come and visit you.”  And I said ok.  It’s a good compromise.

Here’s a few more pics to hold the grandparents over:

When Sophia was little(r) she would tell me that she was just “too tider” (meaning tired).  I always thought it was cute and imagined that she was saying it that way because she just didn’t have the energy to say it right.  That’s me these days.  “Jolie, could you give that to me, please?”  “Um, I’m not Jolie, Mom.”  “Well, you know what I mean, Tess.   I mean, Sophia.  Jeez Louise.”  “Who’s that?”  “Nevermind.”

Some days I’m so motivated to get things done, that I march around the house, drill-seargent fashion, barking orders up and down: Clean up this!  Put away that! Now! Now! NOW!  Other days I sigh and think, “What’s the use, it’s just going to get messy again in 20 minutes anyway,” and spend the days instead crawling after the girls, and reading story after story, and answering their silly questions with even sillier answers.  They must think I’m manic.  Seriously.  I keep telling myself that moderation is key to some normalcy around here, but apparently I’m not listening.

Here’s some new pics of the girls.  Enjoy.

Jolie’s birthday dinner – Mickey Mouse pancakes. 

Happy Birthday Jolie!

Post-Bath Cuddle Time (by the woodstove, of course)

Tess finds a new friend.

Baby blue eyes (turns 6 months on Wednesday! Though the tags on her clothes beg to differ ).

In 11 short weeks, she has somehow made everyone who’s ever met her fall in love with her.  She loves to cuddle.  Loves to eat (evident by all 16+ pounds of her!).  And she loves her family (especially her aunties who came to visit us ).  And the newest thing she loves to do?  Suck her thumb.  Neither Sophia nor Jolie would do this, despite all of the times I tried to help them.  Especially Jolie…oh, the time I invested in trying to get her to self-soothe.  But, as luck would have it, our easy-goingest baby yet, the one who sleeps 10-12 hours a night, is the one who chooses to suck her thumb.

Her first attempts at it were fascinating to watch.  She wasn’t sure where to put the other four fingers so they ended up spread out over her face.  A few scratches later, she learned to curl them up.  She makes the cutest sucking sounds.  It’s darling. 

Her hair still appears fairly light, although I can see some darker growth coming in here and there.  And her eyes are still strikingly blue.  With them she watches her sisters intensely.  Maybe that’s why she’s so content – she has a comedy duet before her eyes every waking moment.  One day she’ll get to be a part of that act, probably sooner than we think.  Until then, we know to enjoy our thumb-sucking, auntie-loving, chubbier-than-ever baby.

We’ve had some really nice weather here.  Last week it even got up to 78 degrees!  The girls loved it…even Tess.

We got a call recently from a woman whose teenage daughters saw Tess’ birth announcement in the paper.  They made their mother call us to congratulate us and let us know that our daughter is going to be very special.  Their names are Tess and Elizabeth.  :)  A few days later a packaged arrived in the mail from their family.  It included the paper that had the birth announcement (I told her I hadn’t picked one up yet, so she offered to mail me hers), a gift for Tess and a gift for Sophia and Jolie.  Do we live in the coolest place or what?

Jolie’s first shiner.  We were visiting some friends when she, in attempt to climb up on to a chair, slipped and hit her eye socket on the table.  A blood vessel popped and now it looks like she is decorated with purple eye shadow.

The girls taking a ride in the dock cart.

How to keep off extra weight?  Make sure my 1-year old and 4-year old are within 100 yards of me when I take a bite of anything.  (They come running and want bites, too, and before I know it, whatever I had prepared for myself is gone.)

How to gain the weight anyway?  Stuff handfuls of peanut M&Ms in my mouth so that when they get to me asking for a bite, I can shrug my shoulders and do the ASL sign for all gone.  (I of course add the “terribly sorry” look.)

How to keep do-dads in my 1-year old’s hair?  Promise treats at the end of a certain time period.  (See Jolie’s new “do” in pictures #2 and #3.)

How to keep the aunties sending care packages with lots of yummy chocolate?  Blog a picture now and again of the nieces in their cute outfits.  (See Tess in picture #1 – sorry it took so long Tara.)

How to make the transition from 2 to 3 kids bearable?  Have a 4 year old that is the biggest helper in the world.  

What this last picture doesn’t show is me crying behind the camera this morning because my first baby was on her way to her “first day of school”.  Not only do we live in a place where school starts at age 4 in the pre-K class, but the end of the school year before they enter pre-K, they go to school for a trial period every Friday in the last month of the school year.  Here Sophia is with her back pack all ready.  She got to drive up to the school with her papa and shadow the other students today.  Needless to say, I missed my big helper, but I love that she had so much fun with the other kids.  I also loved getting to peek in on her while she was in the classroom.  What a proud mama I was.