The Incarnation of Who They Are: Part 1- Emily Taylor

It was requested to me that I share how the Hearnlets came to possess their names. Of course, as with most mothers, I do not need any prodding in talking endlessly about any details of my children's lives, however I will spare the very personal. (Who am I kidding? I'm sure it will ALL come out eventually!!)
So here we go. Hearnlet #1

Emily Taylor

There was never a question with any of my pregnancies if we would find out the sex. Some people enjoy the mystery of not knowing. Tucker and I were NOT those people. In fact pretty much as soon as the two lines showed up we began discussing names.
The semester prior to getting pregnant, Tucker and I took a Medieval Literature class together. Of all of the literature classes I have ever taken, it was by far my most favorite. (and probably most difficult for that matter) One of the major projects in the class was to read a tale of the Canterbury Tales, aloud in class, as it was originally written in Middle English. For those who may not be aware, Middle English resembles Modern English about as much as a horse resembles a Corvette. No, I'm not exaggerating. It's a completely different language, people; different pronunciation, different cadence, different everything. Ok, so we were each assigned a character from The Tales. After we read the original, we were to translate it into to Modern English. I was one of the last of our class of 10 or 12 to present, so I had the unenviable pleasure of watching my Lit professor systematically discard my fellow classmates one by one in a trash heap, if he was unimpressed with their work. Gulp. Somehow, I made it through with a "good job, Caroline" and an A on the project. Not really sure how that happened, but was for sure one of my crowning achievements. Consequently, it was then I realized if my baby was a boy he would be named Geoffrey Rollins. ( Geoffrey for Chaucer and Rollins after Tucker's middle name) Great story, huh? I don't have a kid named Geoff, do I? Nope. Because...
It was a girl!!
Although, I felt like I had won the lottery when the ultrasound lady told me I was having a girl, the irony of having no clue what to name a girl was not lost on me. We were happy and settled with Geoffrey. Now what?
Ok, parents and future parents, the fact is you can screw up a kid with the wrong name. We all know it. We all know those kids who had to carry the weight of the name their parents thought at one point would be cute. The pressure- it's intense, man.
I, in my mind had an image that I wanted the name of my daughter to reflect. I wanted something sweet and feminine; classic and beautiful; strong and kind. Yeh, I know. It's a NAME, but as an English major, words are important to me, and certainly names carry with them strong associations and connotations.
Emily. It fit all my requirements. It just felt perfect and conjured up images of light blue gingham and eyelet lace. The middle name needed to be strong. Taylor. My grandmother's parents had died when she was a child, and she was adopted by her mother's twin sister and her husband- the Taylors.
Emily Taylor.
Beautiful and strong. Perfect for my girl.

Best Friends

I think the greatest gift that I have given my kids is the gift of each other. Emily is 3 1/2 years older than Lou. After almost 3 years, Charlie was born, and 3 1/2 years later came Patch. For 10 years I had babies. I always knew I wanted more than one child but how many and the time span in which they were to be born was something I just never really thought about. I just kinda "knew" when it was time to start trying for another. Thankfully, pregnancy came extremely quick for me. (although some might say too quick in the case of that first one. ahem.)
When we decided to try for a baby after Emily, I prayed she would have a sister. Of course, the visions of two beautiful girls dressed prissily in matching frocks polluted my mind, but my overwhelming desire was to "grow" a best friend for Emily. Tucker was of like mind, although everyone just assumed he wanted a boy. He still talks about how annoyed he was when people used to comment on how disappointed he must be that it was another girl! Emily loved her baby sister from the moment she found out she was on her way. Although they have the occasional sibling squabble, they truly are best friends. They are together most of the time and understand one another like no other.
When we decided to have our fourth, which literally was a split moment decision, I thought how fabulous it would be for Charlie to have what Lou and Em have! The girls loved Charlie, but it was undeniable the bond that they shared as sisters. Could having a brother be just as wonderful to my son? Ironically, we were told very early on in my fourth pregnancy that we were expecting a girl. We were happy, but disappointed Charlie would miss out on having a brother. (surely no more Hearnlets after 4!!) For weeks we referred to the baby growing inside me as Clara, and mentally prepared ourselves for little girl #3. However, during a routine ultrasound it was confirmed that this last little baby was in fact a boy! Our little girl had grown a winkie!!
Charlie and Patch are to each other what Lou and Em are. They understand one another in a way no one else does. They are "bubbies" and they are best friends. They have each other now and will forever.
I know I had no hand in my children's birth order, but I marvel at God's perfection. He gave my children each other in the most perfect ways imaginable. They are better people for having each other and I am so very thankful.

Snooks

My Charlie. What can I really say?
Charlie has a very non-serious, non life-threatening infection that will necessitate surgery for removal. He is healthy otherwise and this little blip is just a mere drop in the bucket of things to worry about. Yet I do- because I'm Mom.

Over the past weeks we have been dealing with a host of unpleasant remedies in hopes of curing this infection. He hasn't once complained. Not once. He has handled this as he approaches everything in his life; with a happy go lucky charm and a joyful spirit. This dude just really amazes me.
As much as I would love to, I can't take credit for this. These, while qualities that I wished I possessed, are quite foreign to me. Sometimes children are who they are despite their parents, not because of.
Charlie is going to be himself regardless of what others think or how others believe he should be. It is simply not within his power to be, well, un-Charlie-like. He is who he is and he couldn't be happier.
Sometimes during a soccer game, I would look over and see my little guy performing what looked like a Madonnaesque vogue in the field. He did not seek to entertain the masses or be noticed, my boy just wanted to vogue! I would (perhaps impatiently) yell to Charlie to stop dancing and pay attention. He would flash me a smile and stop, seemingly unaware that moments before he was giving the performance of a lifetime.
When Tucker and I were choosing a name for our first born son, my major requirement was a name that sounded friendly. Charlie. Charlie. It's hard to imagine not saying it with a smile on your face. (although the name surely took a hit by Charles Manson, but what are ya gonna do?) Charlie certainly lives up to the name. He is every one's friend. It would not even dawn on him to not like someone. That's just how he is. My prayer is that his 7 year old attitude lasts a lifetime in his heart

Awkward Family Pictures

I was meandering around Barnes and Nobles the other day and came across a hilarious book. It is a collection of hundreds of very awkward family pictures. I just thumbed through the pages laughing at the awkward poses and crazy color coordinated outfits that surely seemed like a good idea to someone at the time.
Prior to the church directory portrait that my family had taken several weeks ago, the 6 of us had never had an "official" family portrait made, but looking through the pages of this book made me yearn for many pictures of the like that one day we can look back on and gag. Hmmm. Masochistic? Perhaps. Of course the church directory portrait turned out beautifully so my hopes for wretched ammunition to use against my kids were not realized through that one.
Then came Easter Sunday.
Tucker and I took turns photographing each other with the kids. During my turn behind the camera I captured the true essence that is the Hearns.


Patchy trying to dismantle picture frames from the wall as Emily wishes her phone would ring and save her from the current hell.




Emily thinks perhaps if she stares at the phone, it might ring.



Ok, I am pretty sure there were 4 kids...weren't there??




Surprise! Life is grand when you're a Hearn. Uggh, unless you are being forced to sit for pictures!

Invictus

When I was in high school I loved the movie The Dead Poets Society. I became obsessed with the poem, Invictus, by Sir William Henley that is featured in it. I memorized it and would write it on the inside of my notebooks and in cards and any other place I could think of. I was especially moved with the idea of being "the master of my fate."
It has been years and years since I have even thought of this poem, but for some reason in the shower the other day the words came flooding back to me. Isn't it amazing how that happens? Whether it was God or my subconscious or merely coincidence, the recall of these words at this time in my life have been so empowering.

Invictus

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Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. William Ernest Henley

Bitty Baby Growing Up

I was just a baby when Emily was born. Many 20 year olds are mature and wise. I was not one of them. All I knew about babies was what I learned from playing with dolls. But Emily taught me a lot.

In the early years of our marriage, and when Emily was an infant, Tucker was still in college and worked all of the time. My bitty baby and I had to make it on our own. We traveled everywhere together, and I soon was filling our days with play dates, library story times and trips to the park. Everything I did revolved around her and she thanked me by being the easiest and most mild mannered baby in the world.

I spent money we did not have on color coordinated bows and little ruffly socks. She had short curly blond hair that would bounce around her head as she moved and a smile that could draw the attention of strangers from across the room. She very simply was a beautiful child. I loved being her mommy. It was more fun than I could ever imagine it would be.

Because I was such a young mom, I remembered so vividly my childhood. I put all of my focus on duplicating what had been pleasant and avoiding at all costs the things that could cause her hurt. I was determined to be the best mommy ever. I was going to give my bitty baby the best life ever!

Over the years Ems and I have stayed uniquely close. We have always had a very open dialog and I have made it clear to her that no matter what, she will always be my baby and I will always love her. We have made each other angry at times but it never takes long for the offending party to come to the other with an unsolicited apology. She has shared with me that some of her friends had very strained relationships with their parents and that she was so thankful for Tucker and I. Everyone has warned me that once she became a teenager, our happily ever after connection would end, but I was convinced that Emily and I would be different.

Now my bitty baby is 13. Just hearing myself say that puts a knot in my stomach. 13. My little girl with the matching bows and bouncy hair, is suddenly a lean, beautiful independent thinking young woman. She fascinates me. As close as we are, she and I are so very different. She is extremely preppy and smart and organized; none of those qualities have ever been used to describe her mother. Still, she respects me and loves me the way I am, and I... well, I am in utter awe of her.

I know that there will come a time in her life where the apron strings will be cut. She may go away to school or even marry and move to another place one day. (gasp, gasp) The thought breaks my heart, although I know whatever decisions she makes for her self will be well thought out and prayed over; for that I am so thankful.

She is not a bitty baby anymore, but in my heart she always will be. She will always be the tiny little person who taught me how to mother and to give unselfishly. She will always be the first person to show me truly unconditional love. She really is the person who taught me most about myself.

We are still very close, despite the inevitable teenage angst. On occasion she will snuggle with me and we still talk about matters of the heart and mind, but it is becoming clear that she is able to rely on her old momma less. She has a core group of friends who are now her "go to people." Hanging out with mom is now not nearly as fun as it once was, and I hate to admit it, but I have gotten "the look" more than I care to recall. You all know the look in which I speak- the "You have got to be kidding me, you crazy monster from another planet look." Each time she shoots me "the look" I want to say, "but Ems, it's ME, remember?? Your momma, the one who you think knows everything and the person who you would rather be with than anyone else in the whole wide world! Remember??"

Yep, she is growing up, my bitty baby. I really couldn't be more proud of the person she is choosing to become. Oh, my sweet Emily. I am so proud and just a little heartbroken.

Laundry Love

When I was in my last trimester of pregnancy with Patch, I was very sick. It was initially very confusing to the doctors as to what was going on, and as a result I was misdiagnosed and mistreated for nearly a month. The result was several hospital stays and near confinement to my bedroom. I was so very scared for myself as well as for my little unborn baby.

During my illness, even the simplest of tasks felt impossible. I was unable to read a magazine, follow a television show or even take a shower without having Tucker close by. I was a wreck and I just kept getting worse.

Several weeks into my illness, Janet called to see how everything was going. Because she is six hours away and I had not felt well enough to call, she had been completely unaware of what was going on. Tucker filled her in the best he could with the information we had at the time. Anytime she called in the coming weeks, I was too ill to talk and the news was always worse than the time before.

After Patch was born, I received a correct diagnosis immediately by my general practitioner. Within a week or two I was beginning to recover and finally felt well enough to call my dear friend and fill her in on what I had been through the past couple of months. It was a tough conversation to have because the experience had been so painful. She listened as I cried my way from beginning to end., and then she said something that I have held close to my heart since that day. She had spoken of how she knew there was a problem when she had stopped hearing from me and how worried she had been. Then, one day she had a dream. She dreamt that I was sitting on the sofa and she came and dumped a load of freshly laundered towels, straight out of the dryer on me. She said when she awoke, she knew that I was going to be okay, because the feeling of fresh, warm laundry was such a good feeling.

I am not exactly sure why, but that imagery has meant so much to me since the day she shared it with me. It makes me feel loved and nurtured. It is such a simple image, but so comforting. I have called on that image several times in the last three and half years. Anytime I am feeling a little lonely or down or overwhelmed, I imagine my friend smiling at me and covering me with warm, soft laundry, and I can almost smell it in my mind. Instantly I am calmer.

Today, while pulling laundry out of the dryer, I was reminded of Janet and her love. Six hours away, but I felt as though she was in the room with me. And I smiled. I love her and I miss her, but there is always laundry.