C makes her daily commute to the office in Sevierville with her Daddy.

This is what 16-weeks-pregnant-with-baby-number-five looks like.

A fave photo of H that I stole off his Facebook page (I can do that now that he’s friended me…after only THREE YEARS of me asking him to friend me.)

C lounges in nothing but a diaper and her brother E’s lacrosse helmet.

In case you missed it the first time I posted it, here is my 7 year old nephew M’s cartoon creation.

C plays dress-up at Great-Grandmother’s house

E channels his inner Obama

My J-boodles

J and C, wrapped up like a toddler burrito

Me, getting a snuggly kiss from cousin L (known as Rainbow over at his mama’s most excellent blog)

J and another model all made up (remember! You need that much make-up for actual professional photography with lighting and everything; I took this photo with my BlackBerry) for photoshoot for JulieApple bags.

Jon spends time visiting with my grandmother.

Jon and E. Jon will be very sad, I think, when E finally gets too big to climb all over him.

My sweet H, age 18 (!!!)

K and E, the hippest neighbors on Grainger Ave!

C telling me VERY LOUDLY that no matter what annoying intervention she tries, her big brother H simply will not wake up from his coma-like sleep state on our couch.

October 7, 1991 was the day that changed my life more radically than any day before or since; that was the day I became a mother, giving birth to a tiny, fuzzy-headed baby boy who was the most beautiful human being I had ever seen.

I remember looking down at H in my arms, and feeling my heart swell up with love and my eyes fill with tears…and hoping no one would notice that I had absolutely no idea what the hell I doing.

Happy birthday, son! I love you. You still fill up my heart like nobody else, and sometimes make me cry…and I still very often feel like I have absolutely no idea what I am am doing when it comes to mothering you!

But over time, we’re getting the hang of it, together. Thanks for your patience with me. I feel so blessed by the opportunity to be your mother. You amaze me, and I can’t wait to see what great things lie ahead for you over the next 18 years.

Love,

Mama

And I love, love, love my boy.

Parenting my sweet teenage son – my firstborn, who is so extra special to me – is, without question, the most frustrating thing I’ve ever undertaken, and I am completely and utterly humbled by it.

He’s always been somewhat frustrating for me to figure out how to parent, but adolescent H is frustrating times ten.

Teenage Boy has abandoned the dreads, and is back to the shaggy moptop. But he needs to get a job. In fact, he MUST get a job. And whether he believes it or not, the long hair is making it much harder for him to get one.

So today (as I hang my head in shame), I offered him CASH MONEY to get a haircut.

I know…I know…

H. has abandoned the dreads already, and miraculously, his hair is back to normal.

MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLS. LITTLE SISTER ADORES BIG SISTER, AND BIG SISTER IS SUPER SWEET WHEN C FOLLOWS HER AROUND EVERYWHERE, SAYING “SISSY! SISSY!” OVER AND OVER.

H MAKES PROGRESS ON CREATING HIS DREADS