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Name: Charles Adam Johnson
Aliases: Charlie, Charlie (UK), Chuck E Cheese, The Urinator
Birth Order: First
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Hazel
Outstanding Talent: Impersonating Arnold Schwarzenegger
Looks Like: Mommy, a Davis
Mom Sings to Me: Let's Hear it for the Boy
Named for/Inspired by: Adam's Grandpa, Luis Charles Bodigoi; Emily's Great-Grandpa, Thomas Charles Davis; and this Charlie
I don't know why, but I was worried about having boys. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to bond with them as easily, or love them as freely as I did Elizabeth. I was worried about all the nasty that comes with boys, from cradle through adolescence (and maybe goes away by the time they get off their mission. Maybe.) But all my doubts quickly disappeared the day Charlie was born, as I held him in my arms and fell madly in love. I looked over at my mom and asked how I could ever have thought I would have trouble loving my little boy.
From the get-go, Charlie has been the easiest baby. He was the best nurser. He consistently eats the best (though not the fastest.) He is being treated for reflux, but his is the mildest case by far. He sleeps the best. If I had three Charlies, life would be much easier (though not as interesting, of course.) But he also cries the loudest and often sounds, as his father always points out, like a certain governor of Austrian decent. 
Charlie is also the most talkative. He will sit and coo at anything and everything with no prompting.
He was born with an awesomely full head of hair, but sadly it has been thinning. I hope he keeps his dark color, just like Daddy.
Some people say his nose is big. *coughAdamcough* I don't care. He's perfect.
Photo courtesy of Hannah Johnson 2010. All rights reserved.
I ran out of formula today. It was 10:30 AM, three and a half hours since the triplets' last feeding. I had been doing things that needed to be done since I got up at 7. But somehow the time had slipped by and there I was, half-dressed with wet hair and three time bombs about to go off. I made it back from the bodega that accepts WIC checks before anyone started to cry hysterically, but I still felt like the stronger word for poo. Leaving alone the fact that I could not feed my babies myself, (a pain I can no longer spare any energy on indulging) I couldn't believe that I had let something so important slip my mind. What have I come to?
Sunday was a black day. I was sitting in the corner of the Relief Society room, holding I don't even remember which baby. I think it was Lucy. I was trying to keep her asleep. My entire back felt twisted and weak, with hot, shooting pains radiating in and out of my left shoulder blade. I'd been feeling faint all day, as I was fasting with Adam for extra help with our marriage. Everything seemed a little off. The night before I'd been up multiple times, besides the feeding at 2 AM and consequently, I was dozing in Sunday School (holding a baby) when I'd been awakened by the change of class. Relief Society had started and there I was, listening to a lesson on the Sacrament, and everything all of a sudden became very surreal. There were my friends, sitting in the middle of the room with each other. There was my sister-in-law, texting and playing games on her iPod. There was the teacher, plugging away at the Gospel Principles book. Tears started to drop down my cheeks and my chest got tight.
I am not okay. I am NOT okay. I AM NOT OKAY!! I shouted in my mind. I kept looking around. Would anyone notice I was having a total meltdown over here? I almost started to laugh. Hey! Relief Society! I I need some relief! It was like I could see myself outside of me telling everyone, Stop the lesson! This is an emergency! The girl in the corner who looks like death warmed up needs help! But no one looked my way and I stayed silent. What would I say anyway? What would I want? To pass around a sign up sheet? Please put your name and phone number if you can rescue Emily from herself. We have a calendar marked with the days Emily needs help living her life. If you can live it for her, make a note at the bottom. Yes, we know you've helped her for months but she STILL needs help. *Frownsmile*
So I didn't say a word. The tears stopped. Lucy woke up. I smiled at my friends as class let out. Bonus points if you get the MJ reference and can name the music video of the image above.
I felt bad about not putting more effort into my last post (or any at all.) This blog is the closest I come to journaling or scrapbooking or any kind of family history. So I thought I'd talk about the triplets, but one by one. They are, after all, individuals with very different personalities. So ladies first.
Name: Lucy Margaret Johnson
Aliases: Lu Lu, Lucy Lu
Birth Order: Third
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Blue
Distinguishing Feature: Huge Cheeks
Looks Like: Grandma Giovo, Daddy, Miss Piggy
Mom Sings to Me: Oh You Beautiful Doll, Honey Pie
Named for/Inspired by: Lucy Pevensie of the Chronicles of Narnia; Lucy Mack Smith
When I first met Lucy, she looked like this:
and all she looked like to me was one of those Russian dolls. Later, she looked like this:
and all I could think of was my mother in law. No offense to my MIL, but it was a little disconcerting to gaze into my daughter's face and see . . . not me. In all honesty, of all the three, it took the longest with her to feel like she really belonged to me. But then she started to smile, and I was melted butter in her chubby little hand.
Lucy smiles all the time. She coos and gurgles and will probably be the first to laugh. (She was the first to smile.) She's the fastest eater and therefore the one we give to helpers. She also eats the most consistently.
I love how chunky she is. Elizabeth was always on the skinny side and, despite my best efforts, never fulfilled my dreams of a big fat baby. Now I have more rolls and chins than I know what to do with.
Lucy is also the strongest. Though she's small, she's very solidly built. She can hold her head up and can already flip from her front to her back. She also stays happiest the longest during tummy time. She lies there with her hands in front of her, like a Sphinx coolly appraising her little brothers as they whimper and struggle. You can almost hear her. "Come on guys. It's not that hard."
So that's Lucy. Stay tuned for the boys.
