2015 was the year.

2015 was a pretty big year for us.

2015 was the year for ER visits.  We hit our deductible and drained our HSA account.  Maggie fell down the stairs in March and needed several stitches on her forehead.  Schroeder fell off the countertop in April and hit his head.  He clearly had a concussion so we took him for a CT scan.

Stephen made two emergency trips to the doctor.  Coincidentally, both within 24 hours of leaving on vacation.  On the first morning of our road trip, he wasn't feeling well, and had what I would call a mini panic attack in the car.  He wasn't sure if he was having a heart attack, but he was having trouble breathing.  It turned out to be an intense case of heartburn.

In October, Begbie, our dog, bit him on either side of his chin.  He had to rush to get stitches and head home to attend our friends' wedding.  Being the ever supportive wife that I am, I asked him to please act as normal as possible so I could enjoy the night.

2015 was the year that I pierced my nose.  I celebrated hitting my wedding weight for the first time since Penelope was born.  I also decided I liked to watercolor.

2015 was the year Stephen cut his hair and donated all ten inches of it to Locks of Love.  He also finally added those two extra arrows to his tattoo to represent our two littlest girls.  His quiver is full.

2015 was the year of lots of traveling.  We travelled to St. Louis with our big kids for spring break.  Stephen and I flew to San Antonio on our anniversary.  We took a trip to Tennessee with my parents and siblings in the fall.  Stephen's grandma passed away at the end of November so we went to Georgia for her funeral.

We also took our much anticipated road trip out West.  It was such a dream come true for me.  I wanted to drive and watch the land change before my eyes.  I wanted to hike with my kids and help them find the beauty in nature.  The kids seemed to really like the whole adventure, and when they started to complain, I shoved Swedish Fish in their mouth and said, "You're having the best time ever."  Swedish Fish are convincing.

2015 was the year our dog, Begbie, died.  He was old and having health problems.  Then he bit Stephen, and we just couldn't risk that happening to our kids.  We were all sad, but D'arcy was really devastated.

The situation was redeemed, though, when Grandma and Grandpa helped us surprise the kids with a new puppy for Christmas.  We decided to name her Georgia.  Dogs are good for the soul, I think.

2015 was the year that we kept working on our house.  Nothing new here, really.  We've been plugging away at this since we moved in five years ago.  We've been trying to make it totally functional and our own.  This year, we did tackle some bigger projects, though.

Stephen and I can never seem to agree on how to prioritize these projects.  We finally decided to borrow some money to complete each of our top choices.  We put in a new kitchen floor.  We insulated our attic.  Our biggest project was to reconfigure our stairs.  The old ones were steep and terrible and led to Maggie's forehead scar.

2015 was the year that our nephew Solomon was born.  Stephen was able to get the first peak of him when he travelled to San Francisco in September.

2015 was the year I feel like I became the mom of school aged kids.  This is D'arcy's 7th year in school, but there have always been more kids at home than in school.  I've felt like the majority of my focus has been wherever the majority of my kids are.  It's a tricky business having so many kids who are all at different points in childhood.  Figuring out what each of them needs and divying up you energy and attention is difficult.  I've been tempted to feel guilty for my lack of involvement in what is happening at school.  But, now, I see my attention shifting.  I spend my afternoons resting because at four o'clock when most of my kids get home, there will be conversations, and homework, and chores, and dinner, and inevitably discipline to be dealt with.

I really love having kids who can hike and swim and read and play games and ride bikes.  I'm really relishing this stage.  But, I also still have two girls at home who are preschoolers, and I want to savor these last three years of being a mom to little ones.  I want to still go on playdates and read lots of picture books.

2015 was the year I think I felt the full weight of having five kids.  There is definitely juggling that goes on, and I try to keep our lives and schedules simple to avoid more of it.  Despite being pretty lazy parents, there is still a level of work that has to be done everyday.  That work is draining and I feel stretched.

2015 was the year that church was a joy.  A couple of years ago, I mentioned in my year review that church was hard.  This year, the opposite is true.  Our community is enjoying a moment of connection and God is using that connection to foster spiritual growth.  

St. Louis is fun.

Last spring break, several of my friends posted pictures of their children crawling through crazy tunnels on top of a large building in downtown St. Louis.  This City Museum is one super cool, fun place, and we were told we needed to take our big kids there.  It totally lived up to the hype.  It was unlike anything I've ever done before.  Tunnels everywhere.  Slides two, three, five, and ten stories high.  Pretty good food, too.  Stephen and I did everything with the kids because we were afraid of losing them.  My heart started beating fast when I saw some of the small spaces we had to crawl through.  The thought of getting stuck makes my skin crawl.  Parents, if you ever go, buy yourself the $4 knee pads at the gift shop.  

My absolute favorite part of the trip was watching this old documentary of the making of the arch.  It was way old school, slow paced with a really calm monotone voice over.  The beautiful part was that these kids we took actually sat and watched this movie with interest.  No one fell asleep or asked when it would be over.  We were all sitting on the edge of our seats waiting for someone to fall off the top.  They estimated thirteen people would lose their life in the making of the arch, but no one did.  

We rented a house off of airbnb.com, and I loved that Schroeder thought that the owner's sleeper sofa was amazing.  I think he has seen one before, but I suppose they are modern miracles.  

Stephen's mom gave each of the kids ten dollars as pocket money to spend at gift shops.  Schroeder and Julian put their money together to buy this rock collection set with a magnifying glass.  They came back to the house and marvelled over quartz and granite.  Julian is excited to go back to get the mineral set.  What?

We went to the city's Butterfly House.  Hundreds of these beautiful blue morpho butterflies were flying around.  After a mid-west winter, you forget what it is to be uncomfortably hot.  My camera's lenses steamed up immediately from the change of temperature.  What did it matter, how do you photograph a butterfly in flight anyway?!  

It was a fun trip.  Lots of sweet time with our big kids.  We had fun finding places to eat off the beaten path.  I read a whole book!  St. Louis, we'll be back.

#thosewilliamskids #siblingtime

This is the St. Paddy's Day installment. They are warring leprechauns.

#thosewilliamskids #siblingtime

We banish our kids to the second floor as soon as dinner is over.  Years ago, we asked them to get ready for bed, grab a book, and spend some time reading in bed before lights out.  Sometimes that happened, but that hour before bed morphed into what I call sibling time.  It wasn't something I crafted or suggested, it just evolved.  They play games, read books together, color, play school, the sky's the limit.
People have gotten hurt during sibling time, both intentionally and unintentionally.  Schroeder came down the other day and reported the following, "We were having a contest on who stays up while we are spinning.  And I won.  And I saw Maggie fall down.  And then I saw some red stuff and then I saw some more red stuff running down."
Sibling time can be kind of loud.  If you have been our guest between 7:30-8:30, you can atest to the amount of sound coming from upstairs.
This is why we had five kids, though.  This pack of wild humans who talk and play and fight and dance and laugh and grow together.
Tonight they made a Pokemon spaceship out of a ridiculously large Amazon box.  I think a ton of toilet paper came in it because we buy toilet paper by the ton now.

Penelope had a half birthday.

I neglected to write anything about Penelope on her first birthday so I thought I would jot a few thoughts down as she turns 18 months.

She is at one of my favorite ages.  She is big and independent, but still a baby.  She talks but doesn't talk back.  She's discovering new things each day, and it's wonderful to watch.  At this age, she has a way of diffusing tense situations.  Stephen and I will be frustrated after disciplining a child or frazzled from trying to walk out the door in a hurry, and she'll walk by and just be cute.  We'll look at each other and smile and say, "I don't know what went wrong with those first four kids, but we made this one and she's adorable."

She is so pleasant in the morning.  As I yell for the school kids to wake up from my bed, she mimics me from her room.  "D'arcy!"  "Julian!"  "Schroeder!"  If the big kids are being particularly difficult to wake up, I'll take Penelope out of her crib and lay her on top of them.  She'll pat their face and say "UP! UP!" which makes them giggle.

Penelope likes hats and pointing out people's features...nose, mouth, ears, eyes.  She likes walking around in other people's shoes.  She likes Frozen and Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood.  She loves baby dolls and feeding them a bottle.  She LOVES dogs.  She gets giddy and giggly when she sees one.

She hangs out with me in my bathroom as I get ready for the day and pretends to put makeup on with my blush brush and an old blush container.  If she's hungry, she goes to get a plastic bowl from a low cabinet and brings it to me to be filled.  Basically, all her food must first be placed in a bowl before consumption.  She has standards.  No eating off the table or carrying your food around like an animal.

I had all intentions of weaning P at twelve months.  Then, I just never wanted to say that this was our last nursing session.  So I nursed her when she asked, and she asked often.  At first, a couple times a day, and then a couple times a week.  I felt like I didn't need to mourn the end of this stage because I didn't really know when it would end.  Even now, we'll go a whole month without her asking, and then she'll come sit on my lap, pull on my collar and say, "nurse" in her tiny voice.  Most of the time, I offer her some milk in a cup, but sometimes she insists and I let her.

She has one pacifier left.  We've lost all the others.  It will be misplaced for a couple of days, and then she'll find it somewhere and pop it in her mouth.  She's a fan, but isn't dependent on it for sleeping or comfort.

At night, the kids spend time upstairs playing before bed.  Penelope usually joins them, and they teach her things.  They taught her to say "Six".  And then they'll ask her any question like, "What is your favorite number?"  Six.  "How many fingers am I holding up?"  Six.

At Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law said, "I think I just heard Penelope count to six!"  I sort of shrugged.  If she did, she didn't learn it from me.  Isn't that what school is for?!  But, in fact, she is counting pretty well thanks to her siblings.

She's a master climber...our stairs, the couch, her little slide.  Her vocabulary grows daily, but the words I love hearing the most are Begbie, D'arcy, Maddie (aka Maggie), Breakfast, Stinky, Hello,  Thank You, and Mama.  The other day, I took something away from her and told her it was yucky.  She looked at me with a scrunched up face and yelled, "NO YUCKIE"!  I laughed out loud.

My sister and brother both have small babies, and she is pretty enamored by them.  I keep thinking how great a big sister she would be.  But that role isn't in the cards for her.  She's our baby even if her babyhood is fleeting.

Julian is eight!

Julian turned eight.  One day a few months ago, he told me that he wanted to be seven and free forever.  He seemed pretty excited about his birthday and turning eight so I would guess that he would revise his life motto to be

  Eight + Free

  Forever.

Freedom to Julian is being able to play video games whenever he wants, as long as he wants.  By that definition, he is definitely not free now.  At this point, he has no plans to marry.  That would hinder his ability to do what he wants.  I suggested he find a lady who likes video games.  He's thinking about it. 

Of course, my hope is that he figures out what real freedom looks like.  

His birthday snuck up on me this year.  Do I say that about all my kids birthdays?  Probably.  On the second day of October, I looked at a friend and sort of gasped.  "It's October already, isn't it?"  It was.  I was headed to a conference in Louisville with a friend for the weekend, and I realized I had yet to plan anything for his day.  

But by Tuesday, I had arranged for Julian's good friend Leo to join us at Monkey Joe's in the morning.  With the help of Schroeder, I purchased a LEGO set that was sitting on his bed when he awoke.  I paid extra for "The Brick Bible" to be delivered in one day so it arrived on the afternoon of his birthday, and I made a cake for dessert and invited his Grammy and Poppy over to celebrate.  He seemed to feel special and he was completely in the dark in regards to my procrastination.

Stephen woke him up early for his birthday breakfast at City Cafe.  Birthday breakfasts with dad are a tradition Stephen started all on his own.  That makes me smile.

Julian spent several days reading his New Testament Brick Bible.  Basically, a man created the scenes from the bible with LEGO figures, took photos, and created a comic book like Bible.  The wording isn't altered for children which I like.  Julian kept coming up to me throughout the week saying things like, "Mom, I just read one of the parables we did at church.  The one about the great banquet."  "Mom, Jesus said that if you know me you know the Father.  I know what he meant by this."

Our faith is important to Stephen and I, and we want to share it with Julian.  I don't want to shove it down his throat or manipulate him into a empty decision, but I do want him to have exposure to Jesus' teachings and if LEGOs help it come alive to him, I'm all for it.

Immediately following his completion of the New Testament Brick Bible, D'arcy convinced him to begin reading the first Harry Potter.  Just thought I should mention that.

D'arcy has always plodded through novels at a amazingly slow pace, but Julian is flying through chapters.  I told him his teacher would be proud of his reading prowess.  He shrugs because he is keeping any regard he has for pleasing adults on the down low.

I told Stephen that I was writing this blog and asked him what he thought about when he thought of Julian.  He mentioned his dance moves.  Which are looking like this these days.

Julian has had a lot of sugar at josh and Shelly's reception. #edwardjuliantheodor.

A video posted by Melissa Williams (@melissa612) on Sep 9, 2014 at 5:42pm PDT

Julian ended up having to use some of his birthday money to buy his sister a new Rubix cube because in a moment of foolishness, he threw it down the stairs and it busted into a hundred pieces.  Foolishness happens often in this house.

But thankfully so do hugs.  Julian gives good hugs.  He'll come wrap his arms around you and then hang from you so you'll be forced to squeeze hard and pick him up.  I know that sounds horrible...maybe you just have to be his mom.

This post is a little of this (Schroeder and Kindergarten) and a little of that (Washington DC).

Some days, I spend a lot of mental energy fighting the desire to feel sad.  Slowly, but surely, I'm losing my kids to a bigger version of themselves.  A moment passes so quickly and I can't bottle it up for later.  But, man, I want to be present in the moment instead of being sad about the inevitability of losing it.  It's a sentiment I've shared before.

Schroeder has had some serious trouble adjusting to kindergarten.  It took me by surprise.  He's been five for half a year, and he went to preschool without much problem.  And, plus, I've sent two other kids to school with little difficulty.  But, yeah, all these kids are a little different.  They keep me humble, and they keep me on my toes.  

There are a couple things going on.  It's a long day for the dude.  Nope, he doesn't need a nap, he doesn't seem to be physically tired.  He just has a hard time staying focused all day.  He's used to having loads of free play time where he decides what's interesting.  He seems to like school, but there are moments when his interest is lost and he decides to make it more interesting by...destroying stuff.  Cutting up other kids' papers and knocking over their block structures.  And spitting and throwing stuff out the bus window.  When there is nothing to destroy, you might find him running around the room or rolling on the bus floor.  

Oh, and plus, he's just super impulsive.  He comes by it honestly.  Please contact my poor college roommate, Kristin Bedi, to discover the many impulsive, strange behaviors I exhibited as a twenty year old.  For example, once while we were jogging, it occurred to me that it would be funny if I blew my snot out my nose onto her.  So, without thinking again, I did it, and she was pretty disgusted.  

Thankfully, somewhere about year twenty-eight, I started to reign in some of my impulsive actions.  We are working with Schroeder to get a handle on it before that birthday rolls around.  And, I'm really hopeful because despite the principal's questioning his kindergarten readiness, I think Schroeder is working hard.  Yesterday, he said with lots of hope and excitement, "Mom, I'm going to school tomorrow and I'm not going to get any think sheets.  I'm not going to roll on the bus floor, and the principal isn't going to call you."  

And I wanted to bottle that little blue eyed, dimpled five year old boy up.  

But, I can't, and instead I'm searching for a moment to make me happy to remember.  I landed on memories of our trip to Washington DC over spring break that I neglected to blog about.  

We took D'arcy and Julian to Washington DC for a long weekend in March.  I remember that Julian told me on the plane ride over that he was going to miss "the new five year old in our house".  They are buds, and Schroeder will be invited on our next big kid trip.  I remember Julian being enthralled by the plane ride like it was his first one.  I had forgotten that kids don't remember what they did at three.  

I remember Julian being adamant that we go to Mount Vernon, and walking around in a lovely spring rain.  D'arcy took about a hundred bad photos with my phone.  

I remember walking about twelve miles from Arlington Cemetery to Lincoln Memorial to the MLK Jr memorial to the White House.  At some point, the kids started complaining (D'arcy started crying) so after lunch, we splurged and spent ten dollars on an Uber to take us back to our car.  Stephen loves taking Uber cars.  I prefer taking public transit, the transit of the people.  My opinion is better, but I compromise when I have to.

I love our little opportunities to pretend that we have a family of four.  What would life be like if we had stopped with a girl and a boy?  We rented this tiny little car, and we all fit!  It was fun, but I'm glad it's just pretend.  We all are.

(Update on Schroeder.  The day after I blogged this but did not post it, his principal took me aside when I picked up for LEGO club to have a mini celebration.  The bus driver came into her office to tell her how much Schroeder's behavior had improved.  And then, the next day, Schroeder had a substitute bus driver, and when she dropped the kids off she said, "That little one was all over the place."  Sigh.)

(So, I was going to put photos from our trip up, but my external hard drive is giving me grief.  So I'm putting up photos from my Instagram.)

D'arcy hits the decade mark.

In April, we went to a wedding.  At some point in the reception, one of the groomsmen came up to me and asked if I was the blond girl's mom.  He told me that he had a conversation with her about aquatic life and about ten minutes into it he realized that he had never had such a long conversation with someone so young.  He wanted to know what our parenting secret was.  I shared my truthful opinion.  I have no secret, and I don't take credit for her ability to talk like a mini adult.

My parenting philosophy for D'arcy is to get out of her way and sort of yell behind "don't forget the details!"  I worry, though, that every time I tell her to brush her hair properly, sort her enormous stack of journals shoved in her home locker, or take a minute to check her spelling, I'm killing her creativity.  And, yeah, that's pretty dramatic.  Then I think that maybe that's what she needs a mom for because really, clean, untangled hair is kind of important.

This summer we went to South Carolina, and the first beautiful day in the ocean, D'arcy approached Stephen and asked him to baptize her right then and there.  Stephen shared with her what he believed about baptism and asked if she was on the same page, and then he baptized her.

She went to church camp in July and came home sharing that she had been baptized in the Holy Spirit.  She still makes it clear that she is bored in church every Sunday, though.  She lays down in the pew like we are horrible parents for expecting her to sit still and listen for an hour.

The other day she came home from school and said that she looked up the meaning of her name.  D'arcy means dark she told us.  She didn't think this described her.  Jacquelyn meant beautiful and funny and smart.  I'm not sure where she was getting her information, but she and her friend agreed that was a super good description of her.  She doesn't seem to be lacking in confidence.

She wears a lot of clothes passed down from cousins.  There was a stack of training bras passed down and we agreed that she could start wearing them as soon as she turned ten.  The morning of her birthday, she spent ten minutes digging in her closet to find them.  She is eager to grow up.

For her birthday, D'arcy wanted to go horseback riding.  Stephen and I drove her down to Brown County and we all rode a horse through the woods.  She wasn't nervous, and she wasn't tentative when she smacked those horse flies.  She was eager to get the horse trotting, too.

On the evening of her birthday, we had some of our neighbors over for cake and ice cream.  It was a mini party.

My mom bought one of those rubber band bracelet making kits.  She sits up in her penthouse (top bunk) and creates all kinds of random things with those rubber bands.

Maggie Lu is four.

At four, Maggie likes Frozen.  Specifically Elsa.  Elsa is like this combination of princess and super hero.  Maggie dresses up and runs around shooting ice out of her wrists instead of webs.  Turning the soundtrack on in the car is my secret weapon.  It kills arguments and bad attitudes almost instantly.  Maggie loves dresses and pretty accessories, but she's quick to ditch those things for ridiculous princess dresses and old dance costumes when we get home.  She has this tie dyed blanket that she asks me to tie around her neck or under her chin or around her shoulder.  It can be a cape or a head scarf or an off the shoulder dress.  Besides dress up, she plays by carrying around little treasures that she finds around the house.  She stores them in purses or bags or tied up handkerchiefs.
Maggie is sassy.  She sticks her hip out when I take her picture and tells people who ask her age, "I'm not telling you."  She is quick to correct us and explain why she isn't wrong.  I don't say this because I think it's cute but just to document the reality of the situation.  She is also quick to remind me how much she loves me and give me compliments about my hair, outfit, or mothering skills.
She started preschool at the YMCA downtown.  She is so proud that Schroeder's old school is her school now.  She is also thrilled to have Annie, her favorite friend, in class with her.

Conversations with Maggie these days go something like this.

"Mom, it's super hot in this car.  Turn on the car and the A/C!"
I ask her to rephrase her request.
When I turn on the car jazz is playing on the radio.
"OHHH...that sounds smooth!"
A few minutes pass, I get in the front seat, and she says, "Mom, are you planning on making smoothies anytime soon?"

I wake up and ask Maggie if she wants breakfast.
She says, "I already had lunch."
Me: "Lunch?"
Maggie: "I already had breakfast.
I had a hotdog.
I sneaked it."
Me: I say, "That's not funny."
Maggie: "I'm not laughing."

We were checking out in Kohl's and the cashier tells me how cute my little baby boy is.  It's not the cashier's fault.  Penelope is dressed in blue again and doesn't have a bow in her hair.  I would have let it go but Maggie says, "She's not a boy!  She's my baby sister."
I say, "Yep, her name is Penelope."
Maggie says on the way out of the store, "Mom, I told you to stop calling her Penelope.  Her new name is Anna, remember?"

We celebrated her birthday by having some of her cousins over for a playdate after preschool.  Then we invited all of her favorite people to Dairy Queen for some dessert.  I made her a little fairy garden in the backyard for her to tinker in with her siblings.