It's The Most Wonderful Time...

...of the year!  It's Autumn.  Fall.  The greatest season of all.  And do you know who was born in this great season?  Our little William.  Lucky boy.

A few things to note about Hatch at a year:

1.) He walks!
2.) He has seven teeth.
3.) He has the most infectious little giggle and a mischievous little nature.
4.) His hair is coming in quickly still, brown and maybe (just maybe) a little bit of body to it?
5.) He has transitioned seamlessly from a bottle to a sippy cup.
6.) He is officially weaned.  Sad face.
7.) His vocabulary consists of:
          - Hi
          - Bye-Bye
          - Night-Night
          - Mama
          - Dada
          - Didi (Indy)
          - Thank you
          - No
          - What's that?
          - This
8.) He really does not like forward-facing car seats.  It's back to rear-facing for him.
9.) He gives hugs and giant, wet-mouthed kisses. Sigh.
10.) He really enjoys his dancing.  I mean, really.  While I wished we had a true video of him dancing, Adam found one that is about as close as it gets.  Here is a very, very good representation of Dancing Hatch:

He's about as sweet as pumpkin pie, appropriately.

And, for that reason (not really), we celebrated his birthday with some Fall Fun.  I have a feeling this time of year will be his favorite, too:

 

In keeping with with theme of the season, we took all of our little pumpkins to the Parke County Covered Bridge Festival this past weekend.  Just like every year, this one did not disappoint.  Aunt Leeney and Uncle Justin came along for the ride, all seven of us packed into the VW minivan and made the 1.5 hour trek to Bridgeton, Indiana.  Adam and I snagged some new antique windows and we ate.  And ate.  And ate lots of fall-themed food (not a single one of them pumpkin-flavored, strangely.)  Included in our culinary adventures were Italian beef sandwiches, ham & beans, stromboli, chicken & noodles, apple crisp ala mode (one of the children may have been temporarily placed in danger in this conquest, but that's a moot point now.  He's fine.)  Ahem...going on: kettle corn, homemade jelly beans, fried cheese curds, friend Walleye, ham & cheese sandwich, and Amish made pretzels (eaten out of the back of the van).

Here are some pics from this fun fall tradition:



Our happy (and handsome) drivers.



Someone started the trip a little bit grumpy.



Always a welcoming sight.



The pretzels.  So good, you can eat them anywhere.  Even out of the back of the van.  (Note: It's an Amish man named Ben who makes these pretzels.  When Colleen returned to the car with three delighfully warm ones, she informed us, "Guys, I think we've been tricked.  I just saw the Amish guy talking on his iPhone.")
 

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To My Son On His 1st Birthday

My Dearest William-

How quickly a year passes.  A year ago yesterday, at this very moment, I was laying in my hospital bed (wearing my favorite pajamas) and your dad and I were still trying to decide what to name you.  You were wrapped in a black gauze swaddling blanket, sound asleep and so peaceful, when the nurse (who knew what names we were wavering between) leaned over your isolet and said, "He looks like he'd make a really good William." 

And you know what?  You do.  You'd probably make a good Gabriel or Adrien or Edison.  You'd  have made a good anything.  You are a good person.  Granted, you are still so little.  Your whole life is still ahead of you, but this much about you is true:

You have happiness that spills out of your pores.  Your laugh is infectious, your voice make all of us smile.  You find joy in every minute of every day; in what you see, in what you do, in all of your first...and seconds...and thirds.  You are the piece of this family we didn't even know we were missing until you were born. 

You are tough.  You are tiny (19.5 pounds) and scrappy.  You can push even your biggest of brothers out of the way with a single hand-swipe.  You can climb up and over almost any obstacle, even said brothers.  Even if you can't, you will try.  And then you'll try again.  You'll grimace, maybe even yell out, and go back for more.  You're aren't deterred by much.  You're persistent.

You are beautiful.  Simply put, you are a pretty little boy. You have tiny almond-shaped eyes, a full little mouth, and the shiniest baby hair I have ever seen.  You have soft, milky, skin and the sweetest little feet.  You may be small, but you pack some great genes in that tiny body.  (Your dad and I cannot even take credit for them.  You look like a compilation of your other relatives.)

Hatch, I wish there were the words to tell you how much you mean to this family.  Your arrival brought with it a change in our family.  You taught us so much about what life is all about; about what makes us the most happy; about what makes families so special.  You brought us closer.  You make our family a little more complete.

You are one of our three greatest joys.  You are a gift, my sweet boy.  You always were.  You always will be.  Thank you for being our gift.  Thank you for the honor of raising you. 
 

With love,
Mom

Vacation, Day Two

My plan is to update this blog sometime while I am here in Myrtle Beach this week. I will not promise anything, though. Between the many trips to the beach, to the pool, then to the lazy river and back to the beach, when is there time? (I could do it now but, as much as I love my blog, I love my beer and trashy novel a little more right now.) I will just say this; two days in and I can't remember a time when I was this happy or completely carefree. Vacations should be mandated. This is good for the soul. So are occasional beers and trashy novels, as it turns out.

Patrick in Poetry

Several weeks ago, Patrick and I had a long conversation about how he felt about his dad traveling for work so much. (At the time, he seemed to be having a rough time with it.) As he told me what he was feeling, it suddenly dawned on me that I could write a little limerick about all of the things that were coming out of his cute little mouth. So I did. And then I forgot about it. (Insert sad face.) But then I found it tonight! (Insert happy face.) So here it is: (Insert poem.)

My Family
By Patrick and Catherine Walden

My name is Patrick and I come from a bunch
Of people who love each other so very much.
My mom is a nurse and she makes us feel better
When we fall and get hurt or feel under the weather.
My Daddy is awesome almost all of the time,
And can build giant monsters with these Legos of mine.

I've got only brothers and that is so cool!
I'm the oldest and the only one who can go to school.
Leo is two and he's tougher than tough,
But doesn't know yet when enough is enough.
Hatchie's our baby, and he's so very sweet
But scrappy, we call him, when he bites at our feet.

Our home is so happy, we laugh quite a bit.
We even wrestle a lot, until Mom says to quit.
And Daddy, he travels and he's gone all the time.
I don't understand it, I don't think it's fine.
But we talk on the phone and get to sleep in his bed.
(He likes to wish us goodnight and Mom's lonely, she said.)

So I'm the man of the house and I'm really quite brave!
When I'm in charge, we know the whole house is safe.
And when Daddy comes home, he's still braver than me,
(I like the break, shhh-- I scare easily.)
But when I'm big like my Dad, I'll be the bravest there is,
Because I got lots of good practice when I was a kid.

Leo + Mommy Go Together Like...

Being the only girl in a house with four boys (and one boy dog), I admit that I sometimes feel left out.  When the boys get wrapped up in a new super-hero kick or find a new movie they all enjoy or a new general past-time that is completely lost on me, I kind of get down-graded to a fix-owies-and-make-dinner-and-wash-my-dirty-clothes-please position.  I also admit that this has gotten me down in the past.  I want to connect with my boys on that level, too!  But, I can't.  I am a girl, so no matter how I try, Adam will always have an unfair advantage.  Well, sort of fair.  But still a little unfair to me. 

 

However, with this summer's events and Leo's evolving two-year-old self, the two of us have found a new bond that is special-ly ours.  This summer, Leo and I grew together.  We learned how to read each other and understand each other, how to help each other out, and how to make each other happy.  Leo and I spent a lot of time together in this little journey of ours (and both had a lots of bumps and bruises and tears in the process), and though he is no more special to me than the other boys, the pictures on my phone the past few months indicate the hours and hours and hours of time we spent together.  Leo + Mommy now go together like...

...raindrops + umbrellas...

...Marley + Reggae...

...peas + carrots...

...warm milk + sweet dreams...

...peanut butter + jelly...

...a wink + a smile...

...monkeys + bananas...

...bees + honey...

...a lyric + a song...

...winter + a sweater...

...a heart + a beat...

...a mother + her sweet baby boy.

My positive attitude is really being challenged today. I mean, really.

How many self-improvement posts have you seen from me? A handful for sure, right? And so it is with full disclosure to whomever reads this and to my own kids: admitting your own inadequacies, failures, faults. My redeeming quality here, I suppose, is that I am at least aware and open to the evolution of self; the adaptation of change. My most obvious character flaw as of lately is my grumbling, anxious, high-strung attitude. It's like a cancer took root, started to grow, and took on a life of its own (I would be more specific here, but I'd be certain to piss off at least a couple of people in the process and my new positive attitude would be made really unhappy by that.) As a once-devoted and practicing positive-thinker, I do heartily agree with the power of one's attitude, both intrinsically and externally. Here, I do mean "power," too. It is intense. So, in reading this today, I found a bit of truth and inspiration. I do believe that, as always, change is brewing at the Waldens'.

ATTITUDE
by: Charles Swindoll
The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.

Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home.

The remarkable thing is we have is a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.

And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.

From Last Week. Forgot to Post. Oops!

Here I sit, knowing that I really need to write something down, but once again not knowing what.  We're plenty busy, don't get me wrong, but I feel uber-pressure to be inspiring or pull something from deep down inside and I don't have that right now.  What I have is a collection of mundane events and happenings, all of which make up the life of the Waldens.  Sorry if it's boring.  It's what I've got. 

 

This weekend marked what will likely be my last at the job I so loved for almost a year.  The people, I loved.  The shift, I loved.  The snuggling of lots of lots of little babies, I loved.  The way I felt after working all weekend, sleep deprived and grumpy and feeling like I was failing my family...I didn't love.  So, when I got offered another job with better hours and the opportunity to delve into pediatrics, I couldn't turn it down.  I just couldn't.  And now that my start date is under a week away , I am honestly in a moderately anxious state, wondering if I made the right decision.  (Note: I have, as of lately, developed a new habit of anxiety.  I don't know where this came from, but I really don't like it.  I'm going to burn out my adrenal glands, the way that I am going. Breathe, Catie, breathe.)  Not to be deterred, I am very, very excited for new ventures.  And new hours.  And less hours.  And the smaller paycheck?  Well, we'll deal.

 

Here are a few "life" snippets from my weekend.

 

A rainbow on my way in for my second-to-last night.

My locker after I had removed all of my pictures and "moved out."  So sad.

 

My favorite massage chair, to which I would sneak away between 4am and 6am when I just needed a 15 minute nap.

My last walk in the Sky Ramp.

My "fancy" going-away party, hosted by some lovely co-workers (you know who you are).  Wouldn't this make you feel special, too?

So, on to new adventures.  I have had this week off, and while I had grand plans for it, so far, there has been a lot of hanging out.  And grocery shopping.  (How can tiny people eat so damn much?  I will never understand.)  And one seemingly broken finger.  But I digress.

 

Do you know what is awesome?  These people I share a house with.  Patrick is back in school and doing so well.  His teacher tells me of how smart he is and how well he is doing.  Leo has continued growing out of his terrible twos and is so funny and sweet, and continually romantic (borderline creepy, but sweet.)  William is my forever-baby, sweet and loving, but starting to grow into a toddler.  He's growing to be a bit sly and sneaky, with a joyful sense of humor (naturally) and an easy nature.  He is, however, increasingly difficult to snuggle while he sleeps.  That boy is restless.  And Adam.  Adam.  There are not enough good things to say about Adam.  Instead of the seven year itch, it seems as though we have gone the opposite direction.  Adam's frequent traveling has made us appreciate him more.  Adam is a wonderful husband.  He's a better father.  We're happy he belongs to us.  (And if you have never heard Adam's laugh, you are missing out.  I may have married him just for that.) 

The end.