Time flies

School year 2013 is about to kick off. I'm sitting in bed in semi darkness, watching the sun rise in the corners of my vision. And I think back on the last thirteen and a half years of motherhood and remember...
I remember being scared to death when Caitlyn was born 13 weeks early, weighing less than 2.5 pounds. I watched her fight and struggle to gain even ounces. She caught up fast though, and went home 3 weeks earlier than expected due to sheer stubbornness.
Her brains started to show earlier than expected too. By the time she was 15 months old (a year old adjusted) people could understand everything she said~even strangers. These days, she hides her brain behind teen and text speak, much to my chagrin.
Patrick was my chubster baby. He came out late, by three days. And in the grand scheme of everything, with the exception of pregnancy, three days isn't much. But when you're hauling around a baby that's literally four times the size of your last one, those three days mean A LOT.
He was so chunky his arms and legs seemed to grow right out of his neck. He grew out of it though, and spent his childhood being long and lanky and running all the time. He never spoke much when he was a tot~he didn't need to. His sister wouldn't stop talking. (Much like now....)
And then there was Keira. She was a quiet baby. She preferred to be near me all the time, probably because I was her main source of food for quite a while. We laughed at one point because she answered to the nickname "Fro-hawk" because of how her hair grew~literally in a an afro, but only in a mohawk style. Weird. But adorable.
Life went on, and I discovered I wasn't crazy about living with the kids dad, nor them being around him (I'm still not all that wild about it. But I have to let him around them.)
I eventually ended up splitting from him right about the time Keira turned three.
And the following December, Georgia was born. She immediately became Keira's baby. I couldn't hold her, change her or feed her without Keira becoming incredibly mad. It makes me smile to think back on it. Heck, we trained Keira to hold Jo up after a diaper change (administered by Keira) and ask "is her butt covered?"
Jo is the artist. She started picking up pencils and drawing at about 18 months old. Always faces and people, even on a magna doodle.
Next came Emily. The whirlwind. She's been a mover and a shaker her whole life. Always wide awake and watching. She seems to be the one most in tune with the other world. Her grandpa died just before she was born, and I swear to you, to this day, he watched over us after that. As a brand new baby, her eyes would track things that we couldn't see. We comforted ourselves (and scared the crap out of Pat's sister) by believing that he was there, keeping an eye on "his kids". I fully believe he did, and does, watch us, and there's some strange bond I can't explain between him, Emily, and Zane.
Ah, Zane. He's been hell bent to get moving since before birth. He came a week and a half before the doctor was ready to get him out~which was fine by me. I'm not a happy prego by any stretch of the imagination.
He was a chill baby, maybe a bit too chill. He forgot to breathe now and again, resulting in his face turning shades of blue that no human should. If you'll refer to child number one, who spent time in the NICU, you'll realize that I was used to having to remind a kid to breathe, so I just gave him a thump, he started his lungs back up, and all was well. I remembered to tell the doc about it, and was so nonchalant that the doctor was kind of stunned.
Tests were run for everything imaginable~menengitis, whooping cough, flu, and god knows what else.  He spent five days in childrens hospital before they determined it was simply acid reflux coming back up his throat and causing him to choke. Jeez kid, you could have come with a manual. HA.
Now he's nearly two. He's so incredibly different from his brother that it stuns me sometimes. Patrick was never much for cars and trucks, while Zane appears to revere them. Seriously, he says "car" the way most people say "god". LOL He also loves books and bellybuttons, not necessarily in that order.
There's the flash back of my babies. The reason I'm sleep deprived, broke, sometimes incredibly upset, but mostly, my reason for being.
As this school year beings, I'm hopeful that my biggest kids will actually excell, instead of just pass, that my middles will enjoy meeting new people and learning new things, and that my littlest littles will grow and enjoy life as well.