Philip and Stephanie's wedding

This weekend we all traveled up to Knoxville for my brother Philip's college graduation and wedding to my sweet new sister-in-law Stephanie! Family weddings are some of my absolute favorite days, and this weekend did not disappoint. It was such a sweet time working and celebrating together!

It started with graduation:

Then moved to brunch at the Xi house, courtesy of Julianna:

Then we moved across the street for the rehearsal dinner:

And then Saturday was the wedding!

Now our family has grown once again. Welcome, Stephanie!!!

Baby Jack at Four Months

My sweet baby Jack,

You are a joy to spend my days with, and I love you more and more each day!  I just can't imagine life without you. You make your daddy and I so happy and proud.

You have grown so much in the past two months! At your 4 month checkup you were 15 pounds, 14 ounces (70%) and 25 inches long (50%) -- almost doubling your size at birth. You showed Dr. Mukundan how interested you are in reaching for anything in front of you, and then putting whatever it is you have grabbed into your mouth. You have also found your toes, and grab them any chance you get.

It's been amazing to see you go from small smiles of affection to big grins that take over your whole body! You get very excited, waving your arms and kicking your legs when we read stories to you and when you see someone you love. You remind me so much of your daddy when you smile, and of your uncles and grandpas much of the time. I can't think of people I would be happier for you to take a cue from in your life.

You are generous with your laughs now, and laugh abundantly when we tickle your tummy or neck. Often you just laugh and laugh while I'm changing you, or while you look around the room. Your laugh makes us laugh.

You also reach out for and grab any object in front of you now, especially your puppy Foster. You wave your arms each time you see him, lunging towards him when he gets close, so you can grab two fistfuls of his fur and hug him. Foster doesn't seem to mind.

You still love your sleep, and prefer 12 hours at night (7pm-7am) though you are an active sleeper, and do occasionally wake up with your arms stuck in your crib rails, or having rolled over one way, unable to roll back over. You also prefer 3 or 4 naps a day. I put you in your crib for your morning nap (at about 8:30) and your first afternoon nap (at about 1), and for the others, you usually snooze on the go.

You go easily to anyone, but are beginning to show a preference towards a few people in your life by getting extra excited when your daddy, grandparents, or aunts and uncles are around.

You are getting more mobile, rolling to your back often, though to your tummy only on rare occasion. You also like to scoot towards objects, like your owl book ("In My Tree") or your ball. It's a slow scoot, but it makes me realize how fast you'll be moving soon!

You still love to cuddle, and early morning time with you is my favorite. I treasure those quiet minutes where I get to just feed you, rock you, and read to you while you are still in your jammies. You are such a happy boy most all the time (except when you're in your carseat in this summer heat), but especially so in the mornings.

Recently you have done better in your carseat, and one of my favorite things you do is when you're tired in the car, now instead of crying, you more often "sing" yourself to sleep.  I'm so happy you're learning how to better self soothe -- your humming is so cute, and so much nicer for both of us than when you cry!

This month you had your first Easter, celebrated with Easter Egg hunts at the Taylors and the Valets with your new Nashville friends whose parents have been your mommy and daddy's friends for years. We also had a fun, sweet celebration with all of your Nashville family at your Gammy and PopPaw's house. We loved getting to show you and tell you what Easter is all about!

This next month holds many fun things for you as well - I can't wait for you to have time with your aunts and uncles at Philip and Stephanie's wedding and Aunt Savannah's graduation!

When we go out, people often comment on how alert and happy you are, and how much hair you have! People also generally say that you are "all boy" with your broad shoulders, and cute cowlick. You have the ability to make so many people happy, just with your presence. What a wonderful gift!

I think you have a tooth getting ready to come in, and you are definitely getting longer and stronger, and ready to move. I cherish this sweet time with you as a cuddly, gummy, little guy, knowing that soon you will soon be on the go, eating solid foods, etc.

Every day your daddy and I thank God for giving you to us. You are such a loving, sweet, happy boy. We pray for health, strength, and protection for you, and that you will have a heart that loves Jesus. We also pray that in this next phase of your life God will give us the wisdom and ability to love and discipline you the very best that we can.

I am so happy and proud to be your mother, sweet Jack.

I love you,
Momma

Baby Jack's Birth Story, Part 2

The nurse led us to our room, and they started me on antibiotics (I was GBS positive) with a hep-lock, which we had requested so I didn't have to be confined to bed – something especially important to me now that my water had broken and the clock was ticking until this baby needed to arrive. 

About that time, our new nurse, Terry walked in for 7 am shift change. She was bright and cheery, with a nice Alabama accent, and though you’d never know it by looking at her MissAlabama-like appearance, she had four school- age kids at home. She introduced herself and said “I’m not a stickler for rules. You can do whatever you want: walk, drink, shower, eat…as long as you let me monitor you every once in awhile to make sure that baby’s looking good.” That sounded good to me.

She added “I’m as hands on or hands off as you want me to be. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. You tell me to leave you alone and I will. You tell me to hold your hand all the way and I will.” I thanked her and told her I wasn't sure what all I would need, but I appreciated her support and flexibility.

Terry started to ask me admittance questions (even though I had filled out preadmittance forms) and Luke asked if I wanted him to go get the other bags. I told him to go ahead, since things seemed to have stalled. Just after he left, I had my first really good contraction. I keep thinking about how to describe it…the words that come to mind are deep and intense - almost shockingly so. The only thing I can compare the feeling to is if you've ever been physical therapy/massage therapy for an injury, you may know that feeling when the sports medicine person presses on or massages the injured area, and it hurts, deeply, but in a helpful kind of hurt? That's exactly what it felt like to me.

So, Terry was trying to ask me questions ("What is your highest level of education?", etc) and I was having to focus on the contraction rather than answer her. She stopped asking me questions and got me a yoga ball, which I sat on for a bit, but it wasn’t what I needed. I ended up just leaning over the bed, and Terry pushed on my back, giving counter pressure through the contractions. THAT helped. Thankfully, about then, Luke came back in, and he took over, pushing on my back, and Terry left the room. I kept thinking, once one contraction would pass…"Ok, maybe we should walk now…” or “Ok, maybe I should get in a bath and see if that helps.” but before I could even speak those words, the next contraction came. And the next. And the next. I could tell Luke was surprised by what was happening. He later told me he was thinking, “They CANT be coming this close together.” I’m so very glad he didn’t say that because they most definitely were. I was shocked too. I had always pictured labor as a contraction approaching, then arriving, breathing through it, then having time to compose myself, talk a bit, and then get ready for the next one. That was not what was happening. I felt like I could barely get a deep breath in before the next one came. It was very intense. I remember thinking “If we are just now getting started on this labor thing, I don’t think I can do this for12 more hours.” After a few more contractions, I looked at Luke and said “I don’t know what do to with this.” And he said “You ARE doing it. This is it. And you're doing a great job.” The next time I was able to catch a breath, I was more confident, realizing labor was really here, and I said to Luke “I’m doing it. My body is doing it. Exactly what it’s supposed to be doing.” That felt so very good to know ‘it’ was working. Five hours after my water had broken, we were finally starting good labor.

As intense as that time was, in the midst of it, I remember looking out our huge picture window, and seeing the snow coming down, and then looking around and realizing it really was just Luke and myself in the room. As it turns out, the nurses were stuck at the hospital and had been there for three shifts straight. At the time of my labor, since there was only one other woman in labor that day, and hers was progressing very slowly, they were all taking a pizza break, listening out for when I needed them. So, it really was just Luke and myself, in a room with the sound of my breathing and his gentle encouragement. 

After working through these intense contractions for a bit, Terry peeked back in, watched us for a minute, and then said “I know I checked you just a bit ago, but it seems like these contractions are coming pretty close together. Would it be ok if I checked you?” I agreed, hoping to hear this was doing something. I remember thinking “If I’m still at 4, I might cry.” She checked me…and I was an 8! I felt so relieved! No wonder this was so hard! I had just gone from a 4 to an 8 in less than two hours. We were really making progress, and I felt encouraged again that I could do this!

Terry said “Since you seem to be feeling the contractions in your back, why don’t we lower the bed, and you can try child’s pose and see if your belly pulling down will help relieve some of the pressure from off your back." She was so right - it very much helped. 

Then, things got even more intense. This is when all talking stopped, and all I did was breathe and rock. I was very much in the zone, and just did exactly what my body was telling me to do.

Some people compare childbirth to running a marathon. I can see the comparison, but the analogy broke down for me here because whereas in the marathon, I had to push myself every step of the way at a certain point, labor was more like a steam train rushing forward, and my job was just to try and relax enough to hang on for the ride.

I remember at one point in my very intense breathing, a nurse told me to “Shhhh” and I decided to file away irritation for later. As any athlete knows, vocalization is paramount to physical achievement. I didn't really know what I was doing. All I knew that I was doing exactly what I needed to do to bring this sweet boy. So I just kept breathing -- and breathing loudly, almost like a  mantra from yoga class. 

In the middle of this intense, focused time, Terry said she needed to check me and to lie on my back. It felt like the most unnatural thing I could do to stop what I was doing, and to lie still and have her check me. But I did it. While I was lying there, I had a massive contraction. Wow.  Right then I knew that if I ever had to labor confined to my back on a bed, I would 100% get an epidural. It felt awful not to be able to move. 

Terry told me what I was pretty sure of – I was at a 9 with just a little bit to go, and she told Luke to call her when I wanted to push. I resumed child’s pose/cat pose and breathing,  and at about that time, I saw Dr. Goolsby peek his head in the door, wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. I felt like waving to him. It just seemed comical how intense things were with me, and how casual he was, peeking in the room.

A few contractions later, and I asked Luke, “Think it's ok to push?” He asked, "Do you want to push?" and I said, "No...I am pushing." Luke called for Terry and she said if it was ok with me, she’d work on little bit of rim left while I pushed. I told her that was fine. I remember I was nervous because I have several friends who had gotten to this point and still had hours and hours of work left. I was mentally trying to prepare for a long haul, when I heard her call for the baby nurse. I could tell a few more people had come in and were quickly, silently preparing for Jack’s arrival.

Terry was joined by another nurse at this point who said, "Oh! He has a head full of hair!” I couldn’t believe he was that close to entering the world! At this point the nurses began encouraging me to actively push. I was hesitant since I wanted this to be as gentle of a process for the baby and for me as possible. I realized I had been completely relying on my doula to be there to help me push to the point that I didn't even know what the best thing to do was. They kept telling me to tuck my chin, hold my breath, and push, and I heard them saying that, but instead I was giving a series of short pushes while breathing. Finally they told me, this time a little more sternly, that I needed to hold my breath and push. I did. I prayed he’d be ok and I’d be ok and did what the nurses said. His heart decelled a bit, so they gave me some oxygen. And, in four good, long pushes like that, at 9:39am, my sweet baby boy came into this world, quiet at first, and then screaming and bright red and beautiful. They put him immediately on my chest, and after 40 weeks and 1 day, I was holding my beautiful, sweet boy. 

Jack, held by me, Terry, Luke, and Dr. Goolsby, at a few seconds old.

Luke cut his cord and then I looked over and smiled at him, and he took a picture. 

Jack at less than a minute old.

As I held Jack, and kissed him, they toweled him off. I pulled off my cotton sundress and they covered us with a big, warm blanket, and I just snuggled and held my sweet, beautiful boy. I expected the baby would be kind of yucky, but he wasn’t. He was sweet and warm and wonderful. His initial APGAR was a 9! Luke leaned down to hug us and kiss us and look at him. “He has your exact hair!” Luke said. Dr. Goolsby shook Luke’s hand and left. And it wasn’t even 10 am yet. I began to nurse Jack, and Luke and I talked about how beautiful he was, and just spent some sweet time cuddling and so happy to be a family of three. 

After a while, they asked if I was ready for him to be weighed and bathed, so Luke took him over to the warmer to do that, while I watched. 

Jack and his daddy about 30 minutes later.

Our sweet, peaceful boy.

Then the nurses encouraged me to get up and walk a bit, so I decided to go ahead and take a shower and put on my comfy pjs, and while I did so they converted the delivery room to a recovery room, complete with fresh sheets, water to drink, a sofa for Luke, and a crib for baby. About 20 minutes later, baby was clean and swaddled, I was clean and warm, were all snuggled in bed together – and the three of rested as we looked out at snow-covered Birmingham. What a crazy morning and what a peaceful ending. 

It did not go anything like I had imagined it would, but it ended up being our own perfect story, and as my friend Abby had said about the birth of her son, it was the most special day we have ever had together – even more special than our wedding. Though we felt like we knew each other so well then, we were practically strangers compared to the loved and support we had for each other this day - the day our son was born.

Baby Jack's Birth Story, Part 1

Yesterday was my first Mother's Day -- and what a special day it was. It began with flowers, cards, hot chocolate, and a yummy breakfast with my boys, and ended with laughter around the table with family and a present of a Shutterfly book chronicling pregnancy and first days with Jack. It reminded me how sweet that time was, and how I don't want to forget any of it.


I want to record Jack's birth story because it was such a wonderful day, because I think the story of how you come into the world is an important one, and because it is a story of God's faithfulness that I don't want to forget.


I will take a page from Abby's book, and say if you don't want all of the details of contractions, dilation, etc. then please do not read any further. This is more for me than for anyone else, but you are welcome to share in it by reading our story, if you like.


Baby Jack was due on Sunday, January 9th, but that day came and went, without any inclination that birth was imminent.


At my 39 week checkup, I was at a good place to head into labor: 3.5cm, 70% effaced, and the baby was "low", about at a -1 station. As I've shared, I was having contractions -- as I'd had since the beginning of second trimester -- but nothing that found a pattern or that suggested that birth was imminent.


After a lovely due date day, ending with a walk in the late-night snow, I went to bed, quite late, but quite content, and looking forward to meeting my baby in the next week...or two. After lying in bed for awhile, but not falling asleep, I got up to go to the bathroom one more time. As I was washing my hands, I noticed a drip…three drips…that turned into a slow leak...that was undoubtably my water breaking. I remember smiling, breathing a small sigh of relief, and thinking, "Oh good. I will meet my baby today.”

I called downstairs to Luke, "Luke, my water just broke.” It was silent for a moment, then he said, “Ok…Are you sure?” (I love this question) and headed upstairs.  I told him, yes, I was sure, and he asked what to do. I told him to get a towel for the bathroom floor, to put on some comfortable clothes and to start packing our last things while I took a shower. He asked if he should call Jennifer, our midwife/doula. I told him, yes, to go ahead.

While he talked to Jennifer, I took a long, hot shower, knowing it could be my last for awhile and just smiled, feeling so peaceful that after weeks of wondering if the contractions meant labor, now I knew: baby Jack would be here today! I would be holding my baby in a matter of hours. I told baby Jack that I would take the very best care of him I could in labor and delivery, and I asked him to be kind to me as well.

When I got out of the shower, I asked Luke what Jennifer had said. He said she encouraged him to go ahead and call our doctor. Luke called the doctor, and the doctor on call, Dr. Goolsby, called him back, and said to come on in.

Even though I knew my water had broken, and therefore I needed to have the baby relatively soon, I was surprised that we were supposed to go in. Besides my water breaking, there was nothing that felt like labor was coming. In fact, for the first time in weeks, I WASN’T having contractions. 

That worried me a little because I knew that broken water without progress could have me on a fast road toward a pitocin labor or c-section, which were not my preference. I wondered if perhaps my water had not broken all of the way and so I did what any logical 40 week-and-a-few-hours pregnant woman would do: lunges. I figured if my water was broken, I’d better make sure it was all of the way broken so we could get things going. I don’t know that it helped, but it did make me feel a little better.

Now, as soon as my water broke, I entered a zone where the only thing I was really thinking about was the baby. I had noticed that usually calm Luke was a little distracted. The gravity of the weather situation was not registering with me at all.

As I dressed, Luke gathered our last things, finished packing the car – and was making several phone calls - to Jennifer and the SWAT guys on duty. He told me Jennifer suggested I rest as much as I could because once contractions started, I wouldn't rest for awhile and would need all the strength I could. 

I knew it took the average first time mom 12 hours before she delivered once she had contractions 5 minutes apart and 1 minute in length for 1 hour (5-1-1) – and my contractions hadn’t even started yet, so I was prepared for a long haul. I curled up on our love seat (I use "curled up" loosely) as Luke loaded the car, and closed my eyes to rest for a bit – what would turn out to be my only rest that 24 hour period. After the car was loaded, Luke woke me with a snack – a peanut butter and jelly rollup -- and encouraged me to eat it and drink as much water as I felt I could to prepare for the physical event that was to come. 

It was about then (5:15am) that I had my first contraction. I asked Luke to time it, and I could tell by the expression on his face that it was a long one. I asked “How long was that?” and he said, ”Mmm…about a minute.” I headed upstairs to go to the restroom, and had another one while walking up the stairs. “Wow!” I said “That one hurt.” As soon as I said it, I stopped for a second. I wanted to get in the right mindset for the challenge that was ahead, and complaining wasn’t going to help. I know that a lot of pain perception comes from being tense or fearful, so I tried to relax and ask myself what specifically the contraction had felt like. It was intense, I decided, and uncomfortable. And, I needed to breathe and go with it. Another came. Then 5 minutes later another. By 5:45, I had had 6 contractions, each at least a minute in length, and pretty much exactly 5 minutes apart.

At 5:45, Luke said “We need to go.” I shook my head, “But, it’s only been half an hour of contractions.” I was hung up on the fact that all of the hospital classes we went to said to wait until I’d had an hour of 1minute contractions 5 minutes apart. I was only about 6 contractions in to the very beginning of labor and we were already heading out? 

It was then that Luke leveled with me: “Johannah, the roads are really bad, and the TAC guys are willing to help us get there safely, but they’re only on duty for another half hour. I really think we should just go ahead and go.” Another thing that was hanging me up was that our plan had been that our midwife, Jennifer, was going to meet us at our house, help us with early labor, and help us decide when we were really in active labor and when it was time to go in. I asked him “What about Jennifer?” He told me that Jennifer had encouraged us to go ahead and go and that she would try and meet us there. I had one last fear to get past. I asked Luke: “Are you SURE I’m legit to go in?” He smiled as he said “yes. Your water has broken. You’ve had contractions consistently for half an hour…you are in labor.” At that, I gave up my plan (at least that part of it), put on my running shoes and coat, and headed out in the snow with Luke. 

I held his arm as I walked to the wagon because the driveway was icy. The winter night was so quiet and still. The snow covered not only our grass, but the roads too, and no one else was stirring…except there were two very bright headlights parked on our road. I asked Luke: “Who is that?” "It’s Ben and Robbie," he said…and sure enough, the TAC guys were in their ATV, waiting to escort us to the hospital. Luke drove very slowly and carefully to St Vincent's, less than two miles down the road, while the TAC guys followed behind us.

When we crossed over 18^th street, I looked to the left, and the entire road into Birmingham, was closed off with cones because of the snow and ice covering the mountain. We took the Expressway, and I was thankful my car had all-wheel drive, though I was more struck by how quiet and beautiful the city was than by how Luke was sweating through every second of the drive as the Expressway was a solid sheet of ice and NO ONE had started the morning commute in. On the way there, I had one or two more contractions, and called my mom and sisters to let them know we were headed in, but that progress seemed slow and the weather wasn’t great, so to stay put and we’d keep them updated.

We slid into the bottom level of St. Vincent’s parking garage, and Luke waved the TAC team on. We were safely at St. Vincent's. And it felt like we were the only ones there.  Luke grabbed my bag, we were talking as we walked up to the hospital, and I wasn't feeling very much at all in labor -- not the way I had pictured walking into Labor and Delivery. When we arrived at the desk, there were about 8 nurses sitting and standing around the counter, and they all looked at us as we walked up. They seemed very surprised to see us and asked how bad the roads were and how long it took us to get there. Luke told them that the roads were pretty bad, but when contractions started, he felt like he needed to go ahead and try and get us in.

They sent me to triage where they checked my blood pressure (good), and did a nitrazine paper test to verify that my water had broken (I assured her it had). When she checked me I was disappointed to hear I was 4cm and 80% effaced – just a little more than I’d been at my 39 week appointment almost exactly a week ago. I felt discouraged that since we left the house, my contractions weren’t feeling very strong or consistent, and I knew the 24-hour clock was ticking until a c-section and I was already 4 hours in without much progress at all. 


As the nurse reviewed our birthplan, she asked if my doula was going to make it. As I was saying yes, she was planning to meet us here, Luke stepped in and told me that it didn’t look like Jennifer was going to make it after all. Blow number 2.  I felt prepared for, and even excited about labor with my carefully-planned birthing team. Now, a major portion of it – the one who knew what we wanted and was ready to help us achieve that – wasn’t coming. I suddenly felt very much more discouraged. Then, the nurse said she was going to get us admitted and into a room, but that shift change was about to happen, and so we’d get a new nurse in a bit. I looked at the clock and said “Oh yeah, it’s almost 7, so Dr. Stone should be in soon.” She told me that due to the weather, the practice was closed that day, and the doctor on call was Dr. Goolsby – not Dr. Stone, and that he was going to try and make it in. Blow number 3. 

I felt like crying. All of that research to find a doctor in Birmingham with a low c-section and episiotomy rate, and all of that time spent getting to know him and talking about what we hoped for in a delievery, and he wouldn’t be there either. I couldn’t believe that my doctor and midwife weren’t coming. That didn’t even seem right. Luke tried to help me understand how bad the roads were by saying that the interstates into Alabama were even closed. Wow. The icing on the cake: my family wasn’t going to be able to come either. My confidence at this point was almost gone. I had a contraction just then and this one hurt. I felt like crying. I felt alone and in an impossible situation. Then I looked up at my sweet, supportive, concerned, capable husband and he said, “Johannah, this is not how we planned it. The weather is terrible, our support people can’t be here, but this is still a really good day. This is the day we will meet our son. We can do this together.”

And with that, I took a deep breath, and was ready. Ready to check in, ready to start the labor that was going to lead to us holding our baby that day.

Eastertime!

While Christmas and Thanksgiving have long been my favorite holidays, being back near family this year for Easter for the first time since we've been married caused it to rise in the ranks to one my favorite days. We had a very special weekend of new traditions with family and wonderful friends. 

The festivities started with an Easter Egg hunt with sweet college friends and their children...

Let the hunting begin!

Sweet Camille

The extent of Jack's 'hunting'.

Check out Jack's awesome police car Easter basket from his Gilman grandparents. In it was our favorite new book, "Alpha, Bravo, Charlie: The Military ABC Book", from Aunt Savannah and Uncle Will.

Mmmm...two of my favorite things in one treat! Good work, Bec!

and continued with an Egg Hunt and Brunch with sweet Nashville friends from growing up...

Aunt Liese, cousin Lyla, Jack, and Luke

Dad's fun Easter basket contribution

Chilling with the grandparents

Jack loves his Uncle Chad!

Then we had Easter morning with our sweet little family...

My two favorite guys.

Me and my sweet boy

and Easter dinner with all of our Nashville family!

Is this Luke's child, or what?

Sweet Easter baskets from Gammy and PopPaw and Niese and Da.

Coconut Lamb cake (my first cake mold cake), and Chocolate, Caramel, and Carrot Egg-Shaped cakes!

What a fun weekend of celebrating! While the cakes and parties and food and baskets were so very much fun, my favorite moment of the weekend was hearing Luke read to jammy-clad Jack from his Jesus Storybook Bible about the good news of this wonderful day:

"'Now everyone can come home to God,' Jesus said. 'Death is not the end of you. You can live forever with your Father in heaven because I have rescued the whole world." 

Swagger Wagon

I would say I'm a pretty good driver. With no tickets or at-fault accidents on my record, you might think so too...until you hear that I've been a part of THREE total-loss wrecks in the past four years. What caused them, you ask? Teenage driver changing a CD, random deer in front of Wal-Mart, teenager reaching for his cell phone. (I'm now on the lookout for deer on the side of the road plotting to jump out in front of me just to keep the pattern going.)

Each time I get a new car, I think "Ok, THIS is the car that I'll drive until it dies. And then WHAM - a teenager or deer changes that plan. I'm now officially on a first-name basis with the USAA total loss adjusters...

As a result of these not-awesome wrecks -- this last one leading to my six-week-old infant screaming in the backseat while I tried futilely to open his door that was stuck shut -- I think I have traded in any remaining desire to have a cool, young, fun, car, and all I care about it that it is safe and reliable...and has room for more, awesome little ones when they come along. 

So, without further ado, here is my new ride, complete with curtain airbags and the highest crash test ratings out there:

I am so thankful for my new, safe car, and that God protected my sweet family through yet another big wreck. Here's hoping this one sticks around for awhile.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUG3Z8Hxa5I

Training Update: Month One

The first month of Luke's training is now complete, and we have started to adjust to life at the Academy. We have a system down to get Luke out the door, prepared for the day by 5:20 A.M., and another one that is set in motion when Luke walks in the door a little after 5 P.M. to get him ready for the next day (head shaving, boot polishing, uniform pressing, PT clothes washing, lunch packing, etc etc) that lasts pretty much until the moment we head to bed. Our markers of an extraordinary day: if Luke is able to keep up with the instructors on the grueling daily hill runs, and if we make it to bed by 9:30 -- yes, we're old. :)

I wondered if after the first week or two things might become a little more lax, but the opposite is true. As time goes on, more is expected from these guys, and anything less than perfection is met with lots and lots of running. In addition, their law classes are now in full swing, so Luke's nightly routine now also includes me quizzing him on the state code.

As far as his class goes, the recruit numbers are definitely waning -- his class of 53 now has just 38. After such a rigorous process of interviewing, it surprises me the number of people who have dropped out. That said, with the level of intensity of this training, I'm also kinda surprised that this many continue to show up each day. :)

Most people who left just decided they didn't want the job badly enough. Several also said that their families couldn't handle it. The most recent losses, however, have been people who were giving it all they had, but either injury (two torn rotator cuffs, a torn quad, etc) or grades (below a 75 on the law exams) have prevented them from being able to continue. Those are the losses that are tough for the group.

While it can feel frustrating that the instructors are pretty much dictating our time at home with their extremely high expectations, on the other hand, I have a great respect for the motivation behind the demands for excellence. We know from study after study that what brings our guys safely home at night is acute attention to detail, and precise execution of learned tactics. So, we continue to iron and press and quiz and polish and pack lunches, knowing there is a reason for this demanding game -- and in just four more months, Luke will be back to one of his favorite things, this time in a much bigger arena.

In the midst of this schedule, as far as the three of us go, we're doing really well. To be honest, it's been challenging and humbling to trade our life in Homewood -- where Luke was established in his job, we owned a home, and got time together each day -- for Academy life. Luke and I both like to be independent, and in this stage of our lives, we just need a lot more than we usually do. Our families are storing our stuff, caring for our puppy, and putting us up -- not to mention helping love on and care for our little guy, and more recently letting us borrow their cars since mine was totaled. It's amazing to me that even greater than the love we have for Jack or that our parents have for us, is the love our Father has for us. Talk about humbling...

When the days are long, the blessings of now, the hope of the future, and our sweet little guy provide the perspective that though this stage is challenging, life is so very, very good.