Confessions of a Domestic Goddess in Training: Baby Bear

Our little baby Bear,

How is it that you've been alive for almost three years and I haven't written you a letter? I stew over it at night - "What if I die tomorrow and he doesn't have a letter from his mother? Will he know how much I love him? Will he know how much joy he brings into our world? Will he know how wonderful he is?"

Because you are wonderful. I've broken all the rules with you. I need to hold onto you a little longer. I lay down by you to help you fall asleep at nap time and bed time. You ask me to scratch your back, hold your bottle, put your blanky back on, and sing you songs, and I do it... because now I know that babies grow up in a blink and tomorrow you'll be nineteen and I'll adore that nineteen year old, but I'll really miss those toddler chubby cheeks and stubby little hands. Daddy and your siblings take turns laying by you once in a while too, but you like to lay by me best. Sometimes if you're feeling restless I say, "Do you want to lay down by daddy?" And you respond, "No, I want to lay down by Mama." And then you eventually relax and fall asleep because you want me to stay - and I want to stay too.

Two days ago I was getting you out of the car and you said, "I'm a man." I replied, "but aren't you my baby?" And you said, "No, I'm a man." You are quite the little man. You communicate very well and your vocabulary is impressive. You're a jokester and you just get how to interact with people. You remind me so much of Little C. I wish I would have laid down by him at night time to sing him songs, scratch his back, hold his bottle and do his bidding until he fell asleep, but I was rule follower then. I only did those things for a few minutes each night. When you're a daddy you do what's ever best for your babies. Just tell people thank you for their opinion and then follow your heart. Because you have a big heart and you understand emotion. You empathize with people. For Easter we gave Little C some Crocs. Moo found out and said in a sad, sad voice, "Ohhh, I want Crocs too." And with all the compassion in your voice you said, "Ohhhhhhh, are you sick?" Freaking adorable. That's you.

You love your blanky, your bottle, and your binky. You don't have to have your binky, there's only one blue one left that floats around here, but when you find it you're so very happy.

When you're tired or bugged at us, which isn't super often, you like to tell us that you hate the things we love. For example, one day in the car you were mad at both dad and me. You told dad that you hated green dad trucks and you told me that you hated flags. Usually when I see an American flag flying I say, I love the American flag (and I really, really do. God Bless America. I'm nuts about this place)! Dad drives a black truck, but you don't know your colors quite yet, so you were hitting him where it hurts when you said you hated green dad trucks. We just laugh though. We think you're the funniest and most fun toddler alive. You're the last grandchild in my family and everyone treats you like a gift. Aunt Shannon tells me all the time, "Thanks for having him for me." And the rest of your aunties and your grandparents agree. The Patton's couldn't love you more either. You're left handed like your Little Grandpa. He died about two years ago, but he treasured you before he left. He treasures you now. He would have loved to pass the ball with you, back and forth, both of you using your left hands. I can picture him saying, "there's my buddy."

You love to play pass and you are complimentary of how we perform. You say things like, "Good job, DaD!" The consonants in the word dad are said with tremendous power. "Good catch, DaD!" "Mom, you're good at this game!" When it's your turn to throw the ball you make a funny little sounds like, "Hoyt!" We all say it now when we throw because I guess we like the word, hoyt.

You've loved music and dancing from day one. Right now your top two favorite songs are, In da getto, by J Balvin and Skrillex, and Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy, by Big and Rich. The lyrics aren't the best to, Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy, so we're trying to branch out. You also love, Don't Get Me Wrong, by Lewis Capaldi and you belt the words from the top of your lungs. One of mine and dad's favorite things to do is to listen to our children sing while we're driving in the car. Our hearts just grow and we give each other gushy smiles. We love our babies.

One time you received a toy from McDonald's and you thought it looked like Little C. You called the toy Little C's name and you carried it around everywhere with you. We sent Little C a picture of your new toy, and he was kind of sad you thought it looked like him because it wasn't the most attractive thing around. It was funny. His fiancé sent us a picture back of Little C frowning while holding up his phone that showed your toy on the screen. Cracked me up.

I want you to know you're worth it. When I felt like we needed to have baby #7 I was not pleased. I was scared. I was tired. But now I feel like I've loved you forever. Heavenly Father always knows what He's doing. You are a special boy. You are your daddy's joy and your siblings adore you. Your older sisters mother you about. They play school with you and are so happy when you do their bidding. Your older brothers light up when you're in the room and show you off to all of their friends. You insist on being a baller with them in the backyard. When we go to Lou's track meets all of his friends know you and give you high fives. You've made up names for a few of Ruckus' friends. My favorites are, Blanco and Cookie. It's hard for Little C to not be around you more since he's been away this year at college. When he comes home he always says that he can't believe how much you've grown. He thinks you're the best.

I love you buddy. Thank you for letting me know we needed you.

Love,

Mom

P.S. Here is one of my old FB posts that talks about you needing to be in our home. Love you.

The scriptures bring me incredible peace. They are filled with infinite answers and endless lessons. 

Let me share an example with you that is sacred to me.
After our sixth child was born I was DONE having kids. Done. I was thrilled for the next season in life and I was thrilled to never be pregnant again. One afternoon after reading my scriptures and praying I began writing down goals in my journal, goals that I felt the Lord wanted me to accomplish. The list started flowing, but when I got to number 11 I didn't want to write it down. 

11. baby

And then I wrote "what the?" in  parenthesis. I was so surprised.

Being able to conceive children and have so many babies was a gift and an honor... but I selfishly did my best to avoid this prompting. After about a month I told Jed I felt strongly that we should have another baby. He was over the moon because he's cool like that. 

It's my man that gets baby hungry folks. 

Wham bam thank you ma'am (is that even okay to say? That's really not how it rolls  and a few months later I'm prego and feeling like death. I started wondering, why did I get pregnant? I didn't even pray about it. There's no turning back now. Do I know if it was really the spirit prompting me? I'm nuts. I asked for zero confirmation from the Lord and just moved forward. Who does that? 

I began to pray, anxiety flying out all over the place, hoping that I had done the Lord's will. Afterward I opened my scriptures. You know the type of open where you just let the scriptures fall wide apart and trust in the Lord to direct you? My eyes fell on D&C 75:12 - 

Behold, this is the will of the Lord your God concerning you. Even so. Amen. 

Well... alright then. 

I felt peace from that moment on. 

And now we have little Makaijah who is irreplaceable and perfect and needed in our home.

I am thankful for the peace the scriptures bring into my life. The answers I receive aren't typically as in your face as this one but I testify the Lord speaks to us through the scriptures. They are a gift from Him.