We kicked off September with Joseph's 8th birthday on the 2nd. He got to share the spotlight a bit with his 5 day old brother, who was definitely taking more than a little of his parents' attention and wakefulness. Joseph was delighted with his tackle box, big Swiss Army knife, and and money from Grandparents. 

It's awesome having an 8 year old! Joseph is an adventurer and outdoors-man, avid athlete and mostly all-around fun kid. He can actually hold and entertain Jude without supervision and significantly help out around the house. He's been reading through the Hardy Boys series at an alarming pace and informed us he's almost finished all the many we own. 8 years old means you get a real knife. Joseph had been looking forward to this day for years; he now carries his knife around with him in his pocket most of the time. 

We shipped Joseph and John Paul off with Grandpa and Grandma for an overnight trip to Saskatoon on September 7th. Turns out, they had way more fun with their grandparents then they do with us on trips. They got to stop at the big cross enroute (which we've never done due to sleeping kids), mini-golf, rock climb swim, stay at a hotel, and eat loads of breakfast.

September 8th was Jude's baptism in Saskatoon. This was our first time having a child baptized with the Latin Tridentine baptism rite. It was beautiful and quite different from what we've been used to. For example, the godparents (our good friends Ashton and Mary Hatchen) do all the answering for the baby and hold the baby throughout the rite; parents really take the background. Although a lot of the translations are similar in the English Novis Ordo rite, the Latin Exorcisms are completely removed. Those exorcisms - wow! Dan said it was like punching the devil in the face and then calling him back for another round and then calling him back to finish him off again. It was very powerful! 

 

We had a few good runs of Friday fresh fish fare in a row. Joseph and Dan went out again with Grandpa Millette and his boat with a new motor. They came back with 3 pretty awesome fish! Joseph was proudly telling us he provided supper!

 

And we had a long-awaited visit from Grandpa and Grandma Bear! We tried to pack in the fun with lots of football, a trip to the wildlife sanctuary, fishing, Nipawin visit, campfire, hiking, and a water balloon fight. We had lovely weather and one hot 30+ degree day where everyone joined in the water fight! Grandpa and Grandma brought some nifty cardboard screws from Lee Valley and made an ice cream shop and a puppet show stand with the kids. They also gifted cute little puppets. The puppet shows that ensued were over-the-top goofy and brought endless hours of fun and laughter! 

Lest I leave off without a good full-facial of the newest member of our family, here's a good view of his resting grumpy old man face.

Treat Each Birth as Your First, Your Last, Your Only

Announcing Jude Charles Millette. Born a healthy 8lbs, 10oz, on August 28 at 9:36am. Mother and son are doing well.

The whole experience reminds me of the old spiritual maxim for priests: Say every Mass as if it were your first Mass, your last Mass, your only Mass. This birth reminds me of having our first child, our last child, our only child.

This is our last child in the sense of our most recent child (not as a "no more kids for us!"). We showed up at the hospital not too early, and not too late. The doctor and nurses were very respectful, not at all pushy, and overall just tremendous. Becca was a champ at getting the baby out. The doctor even remarked, on more than one occasion, that Becca should be inducted into the Obstetric Hall of Fame (probably non-existent). The nurses afterwards left us alone as much as they were allowed to. And, amazingly, the doctor even sent us home the same day, which is quite rare. What a difference a few kids make! When our first child was born we were treated as know-nothing, clueless, and utterly lost parents. Maybe the staff was just affirming the reality, but it sure didn't make the hospital experience happy. I suppose that's a strategy: Make the young parents feel like they won't want to have more children. However, by the fourth child? A Whole New World.

This feels like our only child in the sense that our other three children went to grandma's and grandpa's house for the night when we brought Jude home. So there Becca and I were. Alone with just one baby. We treasured him as our only child; gave him our undivided attention. Loved and cuddled him. Just him.

It is true that a newborn is far more work than three other energetic kids put together, and that adding a newborn to the mix of three children is chaotic, but by the next morning we were adamant: We want our other kids back! Jude certainly noticed when his siblings came. Somehow, the louder they got, the calmer he became. It must be true, babies can hear everything from their mother's womb.

And the experience was also like having our first child in that we forget what it's like! Take that first night. We hold the little guy for a while. Then I take him to the bathroom for one last little diaper change before putting him to sleep. So precious. But a goodnight's rest is in order.

I unwrap the diaper, and he's of course covered, up to his arm pits, with that dark-sticky tar poo that only a newborn can have. On the front and back of him. Just buckets and buckets of this stuff. If the doctor complains that our baby is losing weight, I'll tell him why. It was the biggest poo I can ever remember. And I panicked. It's been so long. I'm not a seasoned pro after all. I called for backup. Yes, Becca had just given birth that day, but desperate times call for, you know.

We got him changed. I did some laundry. Sheepishly I volunteered to make amends by watching Jude while Becca slept. And I held him on the couch. He fussed. I kept holding him. 

10pm. Man, what a long day. 

11pm. Yep, that first day is exhausting. 

12pm. Sleep sure would be good, if he could just settle down. 

1am. St. Jude, patron of impossible cases... pray for us. 

2am. Oh for crying out loud. No, I take that back. Don't cry out loud.

Eventually I got a few hours of sleep in. That tired feeling! Drifting around as in a daze. Unable to pronounce words properly. Not being able to do little things like fold clothes, or walk straight. I forgot about that feeling. I feel like a rookie.

Every birth, in some sense, should be treated as if it was the first, the last, and the only. Few things in life are this precious.

Note: This article was previously posted at www.bravestthing.com.

Snippets: Spring? Babies, Birthdays

{one}

March 19th. Spring?

We were siphoning water from our backyard rink around the 19th of April last year. Old Man Weather got our hopes up a bit with an early thaw and backyard draining in March.

{two}

April 6th. Winter?

Thankfully, this snow lasted just a day or two and we're back to semi-Spring weather. We're supposed to get some teen temperatures this week. Woo!

{three} 

I've been on a bread baking kick (or was when I started this post a few weeks ago - time to start a new batch!). Normally, I bake 4 loaves of whole wheat toast bread every week or so with my KitchenAid, but I wanted something additionally as a special bread. After a failed attempt at making my own sourdough starter and then finding out that Dan didn't really like sourdough flavour anyway, I read Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day. Game changer! I make a big batch of dough that sits in the fridge. I can have bread or baguettes ready in an hour or so to add to a supper - and it's literally no work! The flavour improves as it sits in the fridge. It's so, so easy and pretty too!

{four}

We had Emma, the dog, visit four different times (John Paul kept record) during the month of March. We all love Emma so much and would keep her if we didn't live in town. But the kids just love her visiting! I think Emma likes us too.

{five}

Uh, baby bump picture, anyone? 21weeks! I'm feeling pretty big all over, but according to this pic (taken at 19 weeks) don't actually look as huge as I feel. I think it's deceiving... Baby is kicking like crazy and I've felt it for at least 7 weeks already, which is much earlier than I remember with any other pregnancy. I'm thinking it must be the soft belly after 3 kids already ;) The kids are super excited that "mommy's getting fatter!" and keep telling me I'm going to win lots of watermelon stickers for my belly this summer (i.e. they like to put the stickers off the watermelon on me when I look like a watermelon).

 

20 week ultrasound

{six}

My other "baby" is getting lots of big girl hair-dos of french braids and pony tails. She is definitely outgrowing her afternoon nap, but still sometimes takes one because mommy is tired and needs to take a nap. When she doesn't nap she'll sleep through the night in her "bunk bed" as she likes to call her crib, but when she does nap... she climbs into bed with mom sometime in the middle of the night. And sometimes, she falls asleep during supper or an afternoon/evening story...

{seven}

I celebrated my 33rd (!) birthday this month. We had great riblets care of Costco (seriously, so yummy!) and leftover birthday cupcakes frozen after John Paul's birthday. Yay!

                                   

{eight}

Funny kids enjoying the sun after a cold winter. I told them we have to work on smiles again :)

  

{nine}
"Blue Day." Brought to you by new Costco spring clothes and crazy kids with an excuse for nuttiness.

 

{ten}

We are limping? groaning? attempting? our way through Lent. Every year I feel like a failure and every year Dan reminds me that I felt that way the year before too. I guess if I felt like I was nailing Lent then I'd be getting proud and failing anyway. I have plans made for Holy Week and am hoping that we can grow in holiness just a little more during this holiest week of the year.

Almost there!

{eleven}

For your entertainment. 

Come Rack! Come Rope!

In the midst of all our usual flashy pictures of cute little children picking Easter eggs and making crucifixion scenes out of Lego with a certain Iscariot "hanging" out nearby, it must be admitted that such images, though a fun and real depiction of family life, do not fully illustrate what has been happening in our lives of late. I share the following for the purpose of obtaining some prayers. There is no attempt at over-sensationalizing events. Everyone has ups and downs. Life is good. We are very blessed.

After a particularly trial at work at the end of January, Becca and I prayed a novena to our beloved St. Joseph. The intention did centre around a move to be closer to the Latin Mass in Saskatoon. Perhaps the novena was partially motivated by selfishness, or feeling sorry for ourselves, though perhaps as well there was a deep down a wholesome and pure motivation; nevertheless, St. Joseph is a saint who can be trusted to work God's will. Near the completion of the novena one thing became quite evident, Becca was pregnant! She was feeling crummy and such. The good Lord replied to us with a "Here's something to keep you preoccupied for a while." And so a new chapter begins in the Millette family history book.

But again, Becca was feeling crummy and such. To the extent of it not being how she usually feels while pregnant. We soon figured something was the matter. I'm sure many of you have experienced this trial. And so, one sunny day in March, Becca went to nearby Melfort for an ultrasound. I remember walking home from work that afternoon. It was a rare warm and sunny day. Though it seemed like all was lost, that the baby wouldn't make it, the air seemed so right and happy. I had a moment of hope that things would turn out fine.

I walked in the house and could tell immediately by Becca's face that it was not so. The ultrasound apparently didn't detect any heartbeat, and there was something wrong with the images on the screen. The doctor was being sent the results, and would call back within an hour. Such news always makes one a little shaky. Why did I have to have that sunny moment of hope a few minutes prior? Always a roller coaster. Soon Becca got a call from the hospital. There was a nurse on the other end. The nurse began with, "You'd better sit down for this..."

In the kitchen I waited while Becca talked in another room. Finally she came out. She was smiling, but... but... looked completely shell shocked. It took a minute or two before I finally was able to understand what Becca was saying. The ultrasound was actually showing two sacs. There was no detected heartbeat because, you see, two babies at this stage would still be too small to have heartbeats register. And, just to top it off, this surprise made the nurses day. I'm so happy this life-changing news "made her day" and all.

I gripped my hand on the oven door handle. My legs went very weak. Suddenly there were two shell shocked faces in the kitchen. One for each baby! This was the biggest surprise either of us have ever had in our life. Words truly fail me. We were too shocked to be excited or emotional. This roller coaster just took a crazy turn. While spiraling ahead. Needless to say, I didn't eat much supper that night.

I often hear people say: "Once the shock wore off..." Yeah, the shock. It lasted over a week. Twins?!? Double the diapers. Double the car seats. And we'd need a new van? It was, honestly, overwhelming. But the shock did wear off. And I remember pondering on St. Joseph's feast day how he never shied from his shock of hearing that Mary was pregnant (with the Lord no less). And the shock started drifting into visions of two little babies, lying on the floor, talking to each other in a language only twins can understand. Two little kids running together around the house, laughing and screaming. Two young hockey players to join the older three siblings for a family game of hockey. The shock was wearing off indeed. Life changes. It's not our own anyway.

At that time Becca had just finished a book, and I was well into it, titled: "Come Rack! Come Rope!" Written by Msgr. Benson, it is a historical fiction taking place during the Elizabethan persecution of Catholics in England following the Reformation. The rack was the choice instrument of torture employed on Catholics, and particular Catholic priests, to gain knowledge of other priests as well as any Papist sympathizers. The rope was the choice instrument of death, though truth be known the martyr would always be taken down from the rope just a little bit early so that he or she could experience one final sensation, that of being maliciously severed. "Come Rack! Come Rope!" puts one in the mind of a martyr as he lives this agony. A martyr who, though preparing for this his entire life, turns out to be eerily similar to you or I. Just a person. A Catholic. One who is afraid. One who experiences abandonment. One who experiences great and intense suffering. Yet such martyrs persevere. While we often cry out that we are too weak.

You see, hearing of twins means changes. No, I don't think a move to near Saskatoon would be possible. Nor even frequent drives at 6:30am to the Latin Mass. Not with five little children aged seven and under. It would mean no free time. No energy. Perhaps ridicule from others. Feelings of abandonment. Of being afraid. Of experiencing great and intense suffering. In my mind I called out like St. Thomas More: "This is not the stuff of which martyrs are made of." Not me. Not yet. Well, there is no choice, save that of choosing to embrace this cross. The cross is joy when, and only when, embraced out of love. "This is God's path for me to be a saint," I thought. I'm doing a lousy job of becoming a saint on my own accord anyway. Come Rack! Come Rope! We will embrace this new life. And it will be more abundant than I could ever imagine. Come Glory!

The doctor wanted another ultrasound. Becca drove to Melfort again on the Wednesday morning of Holy Week. I came home from work at lunch. We hadn't told our own kids yet! I just wanted the assurance of another ultrasound. Again, I walked into the house and could see from Becca's face that something was wrong. She told me that the babies stopped growing. There were no heartbeats. The doctor said she would wait a few weeks to let nature take its course on the miscarry. Hopefully this would go safely. We'll just have to be patient. Again shock. A roller coaster we have never experienced. I somehow made it through the rest of the day at work. Our minds would not stop trying to process the past two months. How? Why? What?

"Becca! Look at this!" That very evening I received a message. There was the announcement that we had a new nephew! Our hearts surged. What happy news! Within a couple of hours we were staring at the picture of little Anthony. What a cutie. For the Christian there is always life with death. Sometimes even literally! Though Becca and I didn't sleep much that night, there was still a peaceful sense of comfort in hearing of our new nephew.

And so we entered the Triduum. Becca spent most of it on the couch. By Holy Saturday afternoon we made a bold decision. We had a hotel reserved in Saskatoon, and by gosh we were going to get there and use it and then, most importantly, be at our beloved Latin Mass for Easter morning Mass! We frantically packed. Made some sandwiches, and hit the road. It was a bright and sunny, and windy, day. Oh yeah, the wind. We still have a few feet of snow around here. The wind was intense, and blowing the snow on the road. The sun hit the snow on the road and ever so slightly melted it. And then it froze. Becca said she wasn't feeling great either. Long story short, we had a lovely drive of nearly an hour before common sense kicked in. I turned the van back to Tisdale. The boys in the backseat were upset at the lost swimming. Becca and I were upset thinking of the Mass we would be forced to endure the next morning in Tisdale (seriously, how does a choir not pick a single Easter song for Easter morning Mass?). Oh Lord... this is... difficult... but that's ok.

We wait now. The worst is yet to come. This is why I ask for prayers for Becca. We told the kids about the babies. They were a little shocked. Kids are resilient though. Even right away if need be. We even snuck in a trip to see baby Anthony. Emilie is in love with this little man. She speaks continuously of him. It makes us happy. We continue to wait. Becca lays on the couch much of the time. The worst is yet to come. God has placed a peace within us though, and especially in Becca. We must not run from this cross. Only embrace it. We are not the "stuff" of martyrs. But deep within I can find the words echoing forward: Come Rack! Come Rope!

"Baby! Baby!" A joy to behold.

Exciting Arrival (for real)

Emilie Marie Millette. Born on June 16th at 7:20am. Weighing 8lbs 15 ounces. Mother and child are doing great. Pictures later.

UPDATE: 

A sneak peak.

Exciting Arrival!

It is with great excitement that I announce our new arrival! We've waited sooo long for this. Becca and I couldn't be more thrilled. She's a beauty! We are totally floored. She's heavier than we expected, and a perfect 24 inches long. I'm glad there's no tinge of orange/red. Golly, what a wonder to behold!

Ready for a picture?

 

You sure?

 

Ok, here she is!

That's right, the new flooring for our kitchen has finally arrived!

In other news, no baby yet.

In Recent News...

The Millette family of the Millette Family Blog will be welcoming its newest member sometime in late June or early July. We are thrilled! Mommy is tired!

Child Cannibalism

Don't you just want to eat him up?!

I know this mom of ten who's always had a bad case of child cannibalism. She simply looks at new babies and practically starts drooling. When I posted this picture of John Paul on my Facebook last week, she commented, "delicious... definitely start at the cheeks."

Then there's my friend from university who will start gnawing her own fingers to keep herself from eating little babies. I used to babysit my baby twin cousins every Friday night one year at university. My boyfriend (Dan) was 5hrs away and my friend's boyfriend played hockey, so we'd play babies. She used to make sure I never told any other girls about the twins' visit so she could come and have them all to herself.

Yep, bad case of baby cannibalism. And, yikes, I'm getting it again.

When John Paul was first born he rather smelled from the dried blood on his little head and gunk that took me two days to find in the crevice of his neck. Not your beautiful smelling little baby, by any means. But it didn't take long for him to sweeten up and get that milky baby smell all over his soft baby skin. 

For a while there Joseph would tell me, "John Paul smells like garlic." I have no idea if Joseph even really knows what garlic smells like. But now he'll be near John Paul or one of his blankets and say happily, "It smells like John Paul." Yummy! Delicious!

I like to nuzzle my babies. Stick my nose and mouth into the nap of their necks and pretend to eat them. Or get really close in their chubby little cheeks. When I do this to Joseph, he collapses in a fit of giggles and wriggling. John Paul... not so much. He's just not ticklish enough or giggling yet. Instead, he gives me the Dan Millette Special: the quizzical brow. No one can do the brows like Dan and now his little boys seem to be taking after him. 

So, I'll just have to wait for my giggles, but that won't stop me from a little child cannibalism every once in a while. I just can't help myself!

Life with 2

Where to start? I'm sitting here typing one-handed while holding a sleeping John Paul wrapped in a cozy blanket and wearing nothing but a diaper. You see, he threw up all over his sleeper and was so distraught that I just held him close after stripping him and didn't bother to dress him. The ordeal tired him out and he fell sound asleep. 

C'est la vie!

It's life in the fast lane at a really slow pace, this life with two boys. Time flies and we accomplish little things like everyone dressed by 10am and nursing for two days without puking and starting a blog post.

Dan is back at school this week after a very weirdly timed, but hugely providential spring break last week. Joseph has asked a few times each day where Daddy is. He misses his buddy. And while he waits for John Paul to grow up and play Lego, he's starting him young with the toy cars and brings them to him (placing them carefully right by his head). 

We had a crazy "break" with semi-regular throw-ups and a few hospital runs. Our little man's system was ironing itself out (Dan wonders aloud why they come out yet if there are all these digestive things still to figure out) and I was learning to listen to his little body while nursing. Thankfully, the worries of high potassium and slow weight gain are now behind us... but only after too much blood work and naked baby weighing.

We're still trying to figure out if there's a reason behind the tiniest one's need to scream regularly or if he just feels the need to make himself heard. So far, there's no rhyme or reason, but we're still settling in and perhaps once again I'll have to cut the dairy or something else in my diet.

It's amazed me, again, how much work a new baby is. Nursing takes forever, changing is so finicky, sleeping is irregular... if they weren't so adorable, well, but they are and so we do it all with joy and love!

And we are so in love with our little man. He is so sweet!

If we ever had a feeling as to whether we were having a boy or girl, both Dan and I thought boy. And in the last few weeks before his birth, every time we asked Joseph he responded boy without hesitation. I am so thrilled to have boys! I'm sure girls are so wonderful in their own way, but I was hoping for another boy, for Joseph and just because. 

Joseph proudly tosses around the "my brother" phrase. "I'm just talking to my brother," i.e. squishing him in his rocking chair. "I want to sleep with my brother." "Mom, bring my brother here." He is an awesome big brother (!) although still has some room to grow in understanding how to act around a new baby. 

It's been a little hard on Joseph learning to "share" his Daddy and, especially, his Mommy. Regularly, I hear "Mom, do you want to play cars with me? Sit here on the floor" and so often I have to respond that I'm nursing or walking or something his precious little brother. But Joseph has really, really grow up too. He puts on his own boots (on the right feet!) and fetches things for me and sings to his little brother.

And as for that little brother... well, he's a bit of a screamer, as mentioned, sleeps, eats, and poops. After all, he's just two weeks old. He came out with a bit of chub and is adding to it. He's looking more like a little person and not the wrinkly little sausage he came out as. He sucks his little fingers, wants to keep moving all. the. time., gives his Mom a run for her trouble trying to burp him, and is learning to sleep despite the constant construction noises his older brother makes. And he's smiling these adorable little nerve smiles that new babies give, just so you don't get any ideas of sending them back. 

We are so in love and have no intention of sending him back. He's a keeper! And his older brother would agree.

*This entire post brought to you by one-handed typing over two days*

Bath time for the boys and a sneeze comin' on

"Ooooo" first outing outside in his baby carrier. Thanks for the snowsuit Aunty Elaine!

Happy

Cute

36 Weeks

This is, predictably, the countdown belly photo update of a blog post.

36 weeks today, folks! Or just 4 weeks until my due date. But who's counting, right?! Well, I sure am, although I have to remind myself almost daily that if he/she is anything like his/her older brother then I might be waddling around up to 10 days after that magic number date. Babies come when they have a mind to.

35.5 weeks, to be exact

What are we doing around here? Nesting, of course. I decided, having examined my kitchen and other rooms, that there would never be a better time to clean out cupboards and wash walls then at 8+ months pregnant. It is a slow process! And somewhat hazardous as I balanced on chairs to clean out my kitchen in the last few days.

When I asked Dan whether I should make a quilt or clean all our walls his response was, "neither." He's been suffering through my cleaning. As my brain seems to be floating in soapy water, our meals this week have been very last minute plans with little thought to making sure there would be leftovers for lunches; our kitchen has experienced a blow up of things left everywhere; and my joyous welcome of Dan for an unexpected early lunch yesterday sounded almost exactly like, "Oh darn, you're home early!" But he takes it all in stride. Yesterday, he walked in to me up to my elbows in bun dough and just set himself about making he and Joseph lunch, while washing dishes. I'm a lucky girl!

Talking to baby, or probably asking to be picked up

Joseph and I are also taking stock of baby things and getting prepared to wash clothes, carseat, and all that stuff for the baby. I have no idea what kind of timing typically goes along with all these preparations. With Joseph we were living on campus in married student housing and in my naivety I think we bought a very few things for him perhaps a week or two before he was born. He slept in a cardboard box for the first few weeks of his life. But, in our defense, we were moving across the country at the end of the school year and didn't want to collect a whole ton of baby things. Nor had we had a baby shower yet. I don't think he was scarred by the experience.

This time around, I console myself that we are a little more prepared and know a little bit what to expect. Our baby will have a bassinet. He/she will have a few gender neutral clothes, (a few girl clothes loaned by cousin Catherine) and boys clothes to choose from. And we even have some diapers all ready. What more does a baby want than to eat, sleep, and poop? We are surely ready, whenever the day comes!

Joseph and baby bear "sleeping" on the kitchen floor

The big brother has been preparing himself for months now, but I don't think he has any idea what he's in for. The other night, Joseph carried his teddy around, wrapped in a blanket, while he "sushed" it (and us!). "Shhh, the teddy's sleeping!" I'm sure he'll love to hear us telling him just that next month with a little baby sleeping in the background.

So we countdown the weeks! And if you have any love for pregnant mamas, as I hope you do, please pray this baby arrives in a timely manner!

Baby Millette

Here's your first view of our beautiful baby, folks! It's been a little bit loved already by a certain 2 year old who decided to kiss and crumple the picture. Now it's safely behind plastic and this picture was taken through the plastic, so it's not as clear as we see it. But there you have it. Isn't he/she beautiful?!

Joseph and I were so excited to see our baby on Friday at my 22 week ultrasound! Everything is perfectly lovely inside the womb, as far as we can tell. Amazingly, our baby held still for much, much longer than usual and happily showed us some cute little yawns.

I've been feeling lots of kicks for the past 4 weeks or so now, but still haven't managed to get Joseph still for long enough to feel them. Since the ultrasound he's been even less inclined, telling me instead that his baby is kicking and I need to feel his belly for kicks. We've also been talking a lot about other things our baby does, most especially, eat. Joseph's favourite is to tell me: "Baby eating applesauce" or "Baby eating bacon." Sometimes baby sleeps, but mostly he/she eats, or so he says. Hopefully, that's not a the real case or I'll have a heck of a time getting this baby out.

We've also been teaching Joseph his last name and he's figuring out all the people around him who share it too. He is "Jofus Millette," then there's Daddy Millette, Mommy Millette, Grandpa Millette, etc. And now, of course, there's Baby Millette.