Our Fourth Baby Arrives

Photo credit to A for this timely shot

Welcome to our sweet new child! In the late morning of May 27 I scooped up my fourth son and held him in my arms for the first time. He was born early at 38 weeks gestation, surprising me completely with his prompt and brisk entrance. I had my fastest labor yet, whirling through the whole thing from 6:00am to 11:10am when we first saw his face. We really hit the gas in the last hour of labor though moving from 4cm dilation at our time of arrival at the birth center at 10:00am to the three pushes and baby meeting at 11:10. Whew! I was kind of intimidated when I realized things were clipping along a bit faster, worried that I wouldn't be able to keep my feet under me psychologically and that the intensity of a fast birth would beat me to shoe leather. Handily, he's a very sweet baby and he was gentle on his mommy. I stayed right on top of things until a certain point in labor (maybe 10:30 or so) when I suddenly felt unable to keep up and thought I was wimping out. I realized retrospectively that the panic and hazy feeling of losing it was just transition hitting and the emotional wall most women come up against right before the baby descends the birth canal and pushing begins. Sure made me feel better to realize that I had coped just fine after all. I did most of my labor "on land" this time and slipped into the birthing jacuzzi my plush birth center provided at the very ninth hour. I think I got in around 11:07 or so. I was there for three pushes and the birth of the placenta and then I was popped into the cozy in-room bed and Baby and I were snuggled in with blankets fresh from the dryer in the next room. Heaven, even on a hot day in May. And then we placed an order at the local taco stand and had lunch. No sweat, baby before noon and a whole day left to kill!

Our beautiful new son, our fourth and latest joy is: 

8lb 4oz, 20 inches long,  Giles Crispin Armstrong. (pronounced JYE-ulz) 

And now...a little name background for the curious:

He's named after two saints, a name grounded in history and pageantry.We like that Giles smacks of British Isles chivalry.....tinted with knights and dragons and top-hatted gallantry. Crispin is more boyish and takes down some of the high tones Giles can carry and makes it a little less stuffy.

There have been two great saints named Giles, one was a much loved, early miracle worker and the other one of St. Francis of Assisi's inner circle, one of the first Franciscan brothers whom Francis charmingly called "the Knight of our Round Table." We also like the homey, down to earth hero feel that the character Farmer Giles of Ham gives to the name.

Giles was originally the Greek name Aegidius and the literal meaning of the name is "young goat." I'll grant that this comes off a bit odd but you have to do a little digging. Some sources also say that the name means "shield" which is a much cooler meaning to carry around, although a bit bafflingly far from the first meaning.Turns out the word originally comes from the term for ancient Greek shields, particularly the important shield of their highest god Zeus which were made out of (wait for it....) the tanned skins of young goats. To be a shield is good but to be a shield for the highest god in the pantheon is pretty heavy duty. We like the connotations. We hope Giles is always a protector and a shield for those around him even for the hidden vulnerabilities of those who seem high and powerful.

photo credit to my sister Song

Crispin is another vaguely British sounding name, fitting for our combined very British Isles heritage. Crispin means "curly haired" which is neither here for there for us specifically. Our little man has no real hair of any substance yet and what little down is there is not curly at this point. Wouldn't it be funny if he got lush curls later on in life? Would sure make his mama smile.

St. Crispin was an early Christian martyr who with his twin brother, who left their noble family positions and attempted to share the gospel with the Gauls by day and industriously working as town cobblers by night. St. Crispin's Day was once the feast for honoring these two but today it is most linked to Shakespeare and historic wars after the several key battles that were begun on that day. Shakespeare's famous reference to St. Crispin's Day is in a speech given on said eve by King Henry V (in the play of the same name) before his troops in preparation for the battle of Agincourt. Handily the speech is a rousing call to brotherhood and sacrifice...a lovely thing to reference in connection with the name. Crispin apples are also tasty, and give a little homey touch to the name.

Giles is a completely sweet little soul. He sleeps soundly at night waking once or twice to nurse with no real crying. Maybe being number four has sent him clear signals that an easygoing attitude is needed, or maybe God has given me a special gift not to be taken for granted, relief and charm in a chubby little body. We are enjoying him completely and you'll all understand if the blog temporarily turns into a baby album, won't you? With dimples like this in the viewfinder its hard to resist.

Poetry Friday: A Hedge Poem

Happy Poetry Friday everyone! Today I'm writing about a task I'm mostly not really doing these days but more fantasizing about. Our hedge desperately needs a good buzz and I am normally the woman for the job but at the moment the thought of expending all that energy is ultra-daunting and so it stands there in rabid neglect getting hairier by the hour. At least I can write about how it feels to trim it all up nicely, right?

Sometime soon I will take a good hack at it. Although "soon" may not actually come until about July. Boo! I am seriously considering a landscaping company taking a one-off drive-by at my house just to whack it into shape once before spring ends and I go crazy looking at it.

Clipping The Hedge

The vibrant hedge needs haircuts
Just as well as my crop of sons.
It has to be kept within bounds,
Snipping off the clouds of wagging
Shoots that hang down over its face
It will lose itself altogether if allowed
Bulging inappropriately in
Front of the whole neighborhood.
I grind the big shears a pass or two
Warming up the jaws before bites.
With my head on the side I chop
First, the few, high snips to level out
The leafy green table-top above.
Then I advance with my weapon
A cheek pressed against the wall
My sword arm deftly slicing off
The extra limbs and stray parts
As the flanks appear again, decently
A rain of tender stems and leaf bits
Sifts foot-ward leaving a bright,
Lush runner down the driveway.
Sticky green juice edges the blade lips
As they snip hungrily along the wall.
Sometimes I reach a hand up
To feather the cut edges of the hedge
As though it were my husband's hair
Knocking loose the bits of snipped green
Tenderly, brushing it off a brow or a cheek.
As a final touch I must squint down
The line of the shorn wall, my nose nestled
In the bright smell of chloryphyll
Sighting out any stray, missed bit
And when I finally have it perfect
Inhale the bright scent and run an arm
Down the fluttering length of green on my
Way to the garage for my favorite rake.


 Our Poetry Friday host this week is TeacherDance. Click your way over and have another helping or two of poetry to send you off into the weekend.

Until Monday, Friends....until Monday....

A Little Sand In Our Shoes

We took the afternoon off and headed to the beach. A little sand in the shoes, a little saltwater behind the ears, a little wind in the hair, just the ticket. I am still so new at identifying all the little things we find at the shore. I think I know more than last year but never enough. So many little glinting mysteries in the sand. So glad to watch the boys pawing around on the edge of the sea just as curious as I am and never ready to leave.