Growing up, it was fun having so many babies in the house. I was eight when Kath was born. She was born in the middle of the night, and I remember waking up shortly after. I saw my dad cut the umbilical cord. The midwife was supposed to be there, but she didn't get there in time. So Kath was the first baby my dad delivered. Our babies average about nine pounds, and Kath was about average. We had a little drama the night Kath was born. We were caring for a 95-year-old man at the time, who lived upstairs from us. That night, a few hours after the birth, my dad heard a thump on the ceiling. He went to investigate and found that the man had slipped and fallen in his bedroom. He ended up having to go to the hospital with a broken hip, which he didn't like one bit!
Judah was our first boy. That was exciting! My dad asked if I wanted to see him be born, but I was too chicken. When I heard it was a boy, I was so happy that I cried. Judah was a very happy baby. It seemed like he always had a smile on his face. And he was full of energy. When he was old enough, he would pull himself up in his crib and start bouncing up and down. Kerthump! Kerthump! That's how we knew he was awake. Before he could crawl, he would crouch on the bed on all fours and bounce forward and backward. It looked like he was trying to start his motor! After he could walk, he experimented with his mountain-climbing skills. One time, we caught him on top of our 2-foot-high toy refrigerator. Another time, he tried climbing the toy stove. We stopped him just in time.