So Every Day

Keiglets

And then there were six.

When I was in high school I wanted children only so I could name them.  I made lists of names.  Loads of them.  (Just explaining how far reaching the addiction is, you know.)

And then I was in college.

And I did not really want any children.

And then I got married.  To this guy.

For years we vacillated between no kids to maybe a few kids to who knows.

Fast forward to now.

Six kids.

Yeah.  Six kids.

And since no one wants to read a novel, or even a little novella, about each of my chaps, I’ll challenge myself to write something about each one in six sentences.  (Exactly six sentences.  Six. Notice a theme?)

Riley

We met Riley when she was a six-year-old, slow-speaking, pixie-hair-sporting, southern-drawling sort of kid.  She moved into our house and wooed our hearts and shaped the face of our family.  Her adoption wasn’t final until she was nine.  We always tell Riley it is her fault that we have so many other children.  If she hadn’t been first, if she hadn’t been so funny and so affectionate and so Riley, there may have been no other Keiglets. She was the first and she was the kid who made parenting seem like an adventure we were willing to risk.

London Elizabeth Scout

Born the day before my thirtieth birthday, this kid has been all gift to us.  A natural peacemaker and a little mother hen, London flitters around the house all day, always on the look out for things to do and snacks to consume.  As the first of the little ones, she has been a source of blessing and surprise to witness her discover the firsts in her own life.   London loves her daddy passionately.  She takes charge effortlessly.  And she’s downright funny.

Mosely Elliot Claiborne

When Kevin saw three-month-old Mosely for the first time in her stained Bambi shirt and dirty diaper, he feel in love with her sausage legs and pursed lips.  Her baby wail was harder to take, but even those screams didn’t stop the desire to claim Mosely as a Keigley as soon as we could.  Mosely’s adoption was far speedier and suddenly we had two nearly-infant daughters only six months old (to the day) apart.  Mosely works hard at tiny tasks and has never been afraid to march to the beat of her own drummer – Mr. Thoreau would be proud.  This kid is determined and passionate and beautiful and dramatic and we like her that way.  Mosely is the brown-eyed-baby girl we could never have given birth to but cannot imagine raising our family without.

Bergen Hawkeye Norton

A boy, a boy . . . this was good news for a house quickly filling with girls.  And for the first year of his life Bergen was known around these parts as The Model Citizen.  After gaining the ability to walk, however, Hawkeye morphed into the full force, cuddly-by-night dynamo-by-day fellow that we adore now.  Curious, emotional, either all on or asleep with no room in between, this boy keeps us hopping.  Bergen loves his siblings fiercely and wears his tender heart on his small sleeve so his days feel a bit like a roller coaster (which means mine often do as well).  Our biggest challenge is helping this little boy arrow grow straight and true.

Piper Finnian Willow Lacey

When Bergen was two we decided that we had space in our hearts and room in our home for one more sweet Keigley baby.  Enter Piper Finnian Willow Lacey – five names for the fifth and final baby.  A heartbreaker from day one, little Willow swallowed our hearts up and hasn’t seen fit to return them.   This kid commands an audience, has wittier remarks than I do and skillfully demands the attention and adoration of her older siblings with the bat of an eye.  With amazing control for a two-year-old, Piper can change her attitude with a swipe of her fist across her teary eyes and she can wrap her daddy around her pinky with the tilt of her tiny toddler head.  Five kids may be a lot – but I would miss what I never had if I didn’t know this daughter of mine.

Otto Fox Wilder McDonald

We really planned to only have five children.  Perhaps there has never been a surprise so shocking, so perfectly timed and so beautiful as the birth of the lastest (for real) Keigley baby.  I’ve written about the regret I still feel about my original response when we discovered this little Wilde baby was growing.  I have been humbled, awed and grateful that I have been chosen to receive the gift of raising Otto, a mini survivor – to hold him in my arms, sit in his spit up and cradle his small body.  This fella is constantly admired, kissed and adored by his big brother and sisters.  Otto’s role for now is one that is loud, jolly and filled with simple, exquisite joy.