All My Children

Aleesha Elaine, 3 Years Old

“Babies are always more trouble than you thought, 
and more wonderful!” ~ Charles Osgood

This past week, on February 24th, my daughter, Aleesha had a birthday. She was born in 1976, which is amazing to me, as it seems like yesterday. Has it really been 34 years? Aleesha’s name was a favorite of mine, derived partly from an actresses' name on a soap opera I watched back then called, “All My Children.” Aleesha’s middle name, Elaine, belonged to Dale’s mom, altogether a beautiful combination of names.

I can’t believe it’s been over 34 years since I first held my new baby daughter in my arms. She arrived a few days early, having been expected on the 29th, doomed to be a leap year baby with a fluctuating birth date. Good planning on her part to come ahead of schedule.

Aleesha was the first of five little girls who would become their older brother’s best friend, sometimes tormentor, and ultimately care about and babysit his own children. I knew she would be a girl because of a dream I had before her brother, Cordale, was born. We had called him "Aleesha" for almost the whole nine months of pregnancy.  Somehow I could never picture myself being a good mother to a boy!  I didn't understand boys!  I'd grown up with only one brother.  However, right before Cord was born, in the days before Ultrasound, I dreamt I had two little children. One was a boy and the other a girl, and the little boy was just a little taller than the girl. It was then I realized my first baby would be a boy, preparing the way for his baby sister, still to come.

Aleesha was always mature for her age, as she rushed to grow up and keep up with her older brother. She was the earliest to walk of all our children (10 months), even with a broken leg at seven months that slowed her progress by a month. She served a mission in Brazil for the LDS Church at age 21, and with her fair inherited Scandinavian skin and light blond hair, she truly stood out among men! She is a loving mother to many, teaching third grade now for 10 years now. Her creatively and numerous talents make her a popular teacher and an asset to the teaching profession. She is a wonderful sister, aunt, and daughter to our family. I am proud to be the one she calls mother.

As a young girl I loved the books, followed by their movies titled, “Cheaper By the Dozen,” and “Bells on Their Toes,” all about a big noisy family with twelve children! I told everyone I wanted to have a dozen children, but I didn’t want to get married! I guess I was too young and naive to understand why this was a little disturbing to my parents, friends, and other family members. Fortunately, things turned out differently.

An anonymous quote I recently discovered says, “We shape our lives not by what we carry with us, but what we leave behind.” What I will leave behind after this life is the posterity I have been blessed with, and like the black, cursive carved letters on my bookshelf that say, “Blessed,” I am reminded daily of the gratitude I feel for the family I have been blessed with. I am blessed with unconditional love from my self-sacrificing husband, six talented service oriented children, their amazing spouses and my adoring grandchildren.

Having children was my greatest desire growing up and I expected it to be nothing less than ruffle bottomed panties, pink hair bows, shiny clean new penny faces, and organized wonderment. If I had been foretold about sleepless nights, worry over a sick child, and all the pressure, demands and chaos that go along with motherhood, perhaps I would have reconsidered. However, I would have missed out on an incredible experience and grown children who are now cherished friends. There is nothing like the smell of a newborn baby, fresh from heaven, with that soft little head lying on your shoulder. And there is nothing that equals sharing the joys and sorrows of each passing year of their lives.

If not for children, I would not have discovered who I am, or my potential in life. Instead I would have remained my "grubby old self," self absorbed, not knowing the joy of loving someone more than yourself. It has been more than wonderful!

My feelings about motherhood are reflected in this simple verse by Anne Campbell, written on behalf of her child.

You are the trip I did not take;


You are the pearls I cannot buy;


You are my blue Italian lake;


You are my piece of foreign sky.


(“To My Child,” Quoted in 'The Treasure Chest,' 1965, 54)