My baby

She has dubbed herself "The Golden Child".

Becca Erin. She was supposed to be Becca Elysse but she decided to make her appearance on St. Patrick's Day so I felt like we should commemorate that somehow.

Let me back up....

In my last post I talked about some of the thoughts I had while alone in the hospital with my new son, Hunter. One thought/feeling I had was one of peace and contentment. I translated that feeling into our family being complete. I hadn't imagined having "only" three children but I felt so content that I assumed that was the case.  So we decided Matt would get "fixed".

Literally the night before the procedure I had a vivid dream. Don't laugh... I have very crazy dreams anyway... like movies. In this one, I was being herded along a path with other hostages by some foreign military types. I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye, glanced over, and it was a BABY, laying face down in the dirt. But obviously alive. I turned to our captor and asked if I could go pick it up. He said no. I begged, pleaded, and he still said no.  I woke up.  Then I woke Matt up and told him his procedure would have to wait. Perhaps just a crazy dream but I couldn't ignore it.

We spent the next several months praying, fasting, praying, pondering, and praying some more. We just were not getting any clear answers. So finally we threw our hands up and said let's just not do anything to prevent another baby for 3 months and see what happens.  I must admit I felt a little sense of relief when we were approaching our deadline and nothing had happened. That lasted a few days until the tell-tale signs of pregnancy showed up. But there ya go... we had our answer.

Keep in mind, at this point I had a busy 5 year old very ready to start kindergarten, a feisty 3 year old starting preschool, and an 18 month old that was thankfully pretty easy on me.

After 32ish weeks, Becca apparently felt ready to join us. After stopping labor 4 times, we were just shy of 37 weeks so the doctor told me to come on in.  March 17, 1998.

I sometimes feel bad for babies in large-ish families. I was so busy I didn't soak in the newness of this one as fully as the others.  But I did realize that this was FOR SURE our last. So I let myself soak that in. I rocked her to sleep every. single. time. And I didn't rush her into crawling, walking, etc.

Molly loved the baby but had so much to do now that she was going to school.  Sara was too busy idolizing Molly to be too into the new sister. Hunter was just too boy to care. So Becca grew into a child that was very content playing by herself.  And like most youngest children, she has the fewest photos and such.

As children, she was literally terrorized by her brother Hunter. He took great pride in his ability to take her from zero to screaming in milliseconds. It only took her about 14 years to grasp the idea of laughing with/at him and at least acting like he didn't bother her. So fun to hear her now say "I can't wait to see Hunter!"

Becca was only 9 when the divorce happened. She just wanted to love both her parents and see them both. She had no way of understanding some of the things that had gone on and that went on during the ugliest of it all.

Becca was always the "cute" sister.  Who doesn't love her fantastic freckles? And she was the only one that got a touch of her Gramma Sharon's strawberry blonde hair. She has such gorgeous and stylish older sisters to follow. She has done it with her own unique flair. And as she grows through her teen years I see that she won't always be the cutsie little sister. She is becoming a beautiful young woman... that still has fantastic freckles!  She often reminds me of her oldest sister Molly, with her facial expressions and mannerisms. She shares clothes with her other sister Sara but makes the outfits all her own.  And some days she seems to love that she is the baby. But some days she seems hate it.

Poor thing is stuck home as the only kid left.  She is forced into spending more time with her parents and (eek) step-parents than I am sure she wants to.  She told me the other day that I am her best friend. What more could a mother want? Especially from her 16 year old.

Becca is a planner. She always had her birthday party planned about 11 months ahead of time. She knows how many children she wants to have and what their names will be.  She wants to own a bakery.  She's been known to get a little flustered when her vision and plans don't fall into place but she is getting better at that. Nothing wrong with plans goals though.  I can't wait to see them come to fruition.  And even if she has more lessons in letting go of the vision and going with the flow... I have no doubt she will handle it all beautifully.

My "golden child". ;)

My favorite boy

In the spring of 1995 we had just moved back to California from Colorado and we had another "surprise" baby on the way. The other "surprise" happened when we moved to Colorado so we decided we probably shouldn't move to another state for awhile. It took awhile for things to settle in for me but about the time it did, we found out that our surprise was also a BOY! Surprise!  After two princess girlie girls... I was excited for the new challenge.

Have you ever seen this... ?



So true. I was NOT expecting the level and consistency of noise. Neither were his sisters. And the dirt, grime, etc.... EWWWWW! (the "etc" was the worst)

With no further adieu... let me introduce to you... Matthew Hunter Crabtree!



I will interject here that my gorgeous eldest Amelia is expecting her third baby and we recently found out that it is indeed a BOY! YAY! However, the newest Hartzell youngen's gender has not been received well by his sisters. Funny to me because it is so exactly like how Molly herself responded to the news of a brother. But we all certainly adore "Bubba" now. (What his adoring nieces call him)


As I ponder what more to say about my boy, I have decided some of my thoughts need to be their own separate blog post.  Let's suffice to say boys are just different.  The way you feel about them, the way they feel about you, the dirt, their thought process, the noise, and the RESPONSIBILITY.

I'm going to assume, perhaps unfairly, that this feeling of responsibility may be unique to Latter Day Saint mothers.  But I vividly recall sitting in my hospital room, alone with MY SON, looking at him and thinking "I am holding a future priesthood holder. A future missionary. A future gentleman (we hope). A future husband. How on earth will I teach him how to be all these things? But thank you Lord for giving me this opportunity."

Luckily Hunter was an extremely easy baby so I had some peaceful moments over the next several months to let all that sink in.  And about that easy baby stuff, I have a theory that our third babies are easy so we won't call it all quits. I have met several people that were ready to give up after their 2nd and thought they'd give it ONE MORE CHANCE, only to have angel 3rd babies that make us forget how hard it was.

Hunter was a typical little boy with sisters. Meaning he was dirty- A LOT - and destructive while also being a great problem solver, but would also cry because he wanted his nails painted as well.  He wanted nothing more than to be like his daddy.  He went through a tantrum stage at about 3 that we have documented well with photos.  He was a picky eater but that thoroughly disappeared by his teens.  He was always the teacher's pet. ALWAYS.  And he was adored by all the ladies in the house.  Well, except for his little sister who he took great pride in being able to infuriate to a screaming state within seconds. I think we are finally, barely out of that stage.

Even before the divorce, daddy traveled a lot and would remind Hunter that he was the "man of the house" when he was not there.  One night I was up late and Hunter was with me and trying to keep his eyes open. When I asked him why he didn't just go to bed he said "Because I need to check the windows and doors before I can go to bed."  My heart did a huge "Awwwww" and I assured him I could do it that one time so he could just fall asleep.  (He was about TEN at the time).

Then came the rough spot. "the divorce"  I've learned that there is no way for me to know how it truly affected and continues to affect my babies.  We each had our own sadness and grief to deal with.  But Hunter was at a very pivotal time in a LDS boy's life. He was ready to receive the Aaronic Priesthood (if any of this brings up questions feel free to ask!).  He was ordained by a good family friend and we had many other friends there to share the day.  Such a sweet spirit was in our home that day.  And Hunter continued to be the "man of the house".

I should for time sake but I cannot leave out a great story from about that time.  It was Christmas. One of my favorite things is having lights on the house. But we were suddenly a family with the only man being a almost 12 year old.  However, my sweet boy came to me and said he could do the lights himself. He had "helped" dad many times so he had it all under control.  What's a mom to say?  But I shared my concern with our home teacher Eric Roweton and he said he had an idea. So the day Hunter had planned to hang the lights, Eric showed up. Only to bring a ladder in case Hunter needed it.  And hung around just in case Hunter needed him to hold something for him or some other easy task.  Low and behold, with his "helper", Hunter got the lights up and working quite well.  He was very proud of himself. And so was his mama.

Hunter's teens have been challenging for me.  After we moved to Utah he decided he wanted to go back and live with his dad in California during high school.  I had my concerns but his dad is a good dad and Hunter has turned out quite well.

Here we are, less than a month before my boy graduates from high school and is officially a "grown up".  I can't believe it. It can't have been 18 years since I sat with that baby in my arms.  But alas, it is true.  I couldn't be more proud of who he is.  His sisters insist he is my "favorite" but moms know we don't have favorites. As I already mentioned, and promised a separate post on, boys are just different. Our relationship is simple. If he is mad at me it lasts about 90 seconds and we are over it.  Well... except for one patch where a crazy girlfriend was involved... but I digress.  The boy can't wait to graduate and get on with life. He has chosen to attend the University of Utah (GO UTES!) which will bring him back to Utah and closer to mom.  We even get a good 6 weeks with him here this summer before he moves into the dorm. And we are over the moon excited.  Even his little sister. Which indicates great progress.  He's a smarty pants. As of now planning to be an attorney. And he is truly a gentleman. He shows his sisters what they should look for in a man.  And best of all... he loves his mommy!


Yikes... I almost forgot photos!

BUBBA!

Water polo stud.

Our Halloween attempt at reenacting "300"

(totally Hunter's idea)