Princess Barbie Wrestling

Our son, Caleb, is ALL boy. That means he likes to throw balls, shoot guns, and wrestle his daddy. In fact, the latter is such a pleasant pastime for him that he literally counts down the days for the annual Barbarian Wrestling Night, hosted at our church each year for dads, and their sons to show their stuff. Last year he waited 10 whole days before asking about the following year's date.

The girls are equally excited for Caleb to go on this, "all man" adventure. His antics are notorious around our home, and usually include one, or more, of his sisters being mortally wounded in the act. Take Leah's plaintive cry last week, "Mama! Caleb hit me in the brain. I'm not going to survive." Needless to say, our daughters are ever eager for their brother to leave them alone!

Quiet reading, dolls, tea parties, and ballerina movies are the chosen pastimes of the girls. So it was with some surprise when, last night, Leah and Mary initiated wrestling with Daddy. But it wasn't the fact of wrestling that was so humorous, it was the manner in which they wrestled.

Princess Barbie Wrestling.

Where Caleb careens his whole body, cannon ball style, onto his father's retreating backside, Leah gently skips towards Daddy's awaiting arms with a menacing grimace on her face. Caleb flings himself, no holds barred, across his father's chest, but Mary delicately flicks at Daddy's hands, squealing with terror. Caleb thrusts feet, throws arms, and engages with his whole being, while Hannah laughs hysterically at the first touch to her body. Bethany just breaks down in tears the moment her eyelash bends the wrong way.

Yep, God definitely made boys and girls differently.

Itsy Bitsy Spider

We sat down with our 6 children on the eve of delivering babe #7, and asked them for suggestions for a girl's name. We were already set on Luke, but we were at a quandary for a girl's name that everyone liked. So our table discussion the night before my planned cesarean was focused on pink.

Several options given included Dorcas, Tabitha, Rebekah, Jubilee, and some more colorful options like, Ravioli. Then Mary came forward with what she concluded to be a shoe-in...

Itsy Bitsy Spider.

After laughing ourselves silly we tried to explain that we were serious about our request. We really wanted their opinions since we were stumped. But we only got the same list as before - mostly names which the kids had heard us discuss, ad nauseam, and which we still could not agree. So I left for the hospital the following morning a little nervous about the delivery, and without a single clue as to what we would call a girl should we deliver one.

My delivery went incredibly well! I can not thank those who prayed on my behalf enough for their faithfulness in interceding for me. The anesthesiologist was an "old friend," having worked at the hospital where several of my older children were born, and was actually in attendance for 2 of my previous births. He is noted, by most on the peninsula, to be one of the best in his field. He was perfectly willing to allow Christopher into the OR during my spinal administration. And while I am recognizably a "difficult stick", Dr. Arakaki did a beautiful job of limiting my discomfort to as little as possible. The delivery itself was fairly straight-forward, with very few complications, and it wasn't long before our obstetrician was telling Christopher to prepare himself for the announcement of birth, and gender.

"Oh my goodness, honey! It's a girl! We have another girl!"

We were both speechless, and not just a little emotional about our newest addition arriving in perfect pinkness to match her gender. At 7lbs, 1/2 ounce and 20 inches long she was our smallest baby, but her tiny features were absolute perfection, topped with swirls of dark hair. The pediatrician asked us what her name was...

We didn't know. We looked at one another in blank surprise that somehow we had arrived at this moment, and still were without a name. The answer suddenly became clear. 

Itsy Bitsy Spider. 

And so she was (for over 24 hours) until Christopher realized, with certainty, that we held in our arms, Phoebe. He was right. It fit her beautifully.

Phoebe Grace.