Janette Oke (20 page)

Perhaps the most difficult trick was getting the twins ready for anything on time. Janette enjoyed dressing them alike, but as surely as they were about to walk out the door, one or the other would spit up or manage to mess his outfit. That meant changing them both and yet be on time. It was especially difficult on Sundays. But then, Sundays were one of the few times Janette and the boys did go out.

When the babies were close to three months, they both developed severe colds. Janette thought Lorne was the sicker of the two until she lay Lavon down and saw that he was beginning to turn blue. She continued holding him until Edward returned from work, then bundled him up and took him to the emergency room.

Lavon was admitted immediately with pneumonia. While there he was given medication after medication, but nothing seemed to have any effect. Edward had a responsibility to be at a college retreat out of town and Janette had intended to accompany him. But the family doctor frankly warned Janette not to leave town. He wanted to be sure she was close enough to call if things suddenly took a turn for the worse. Of course she canceled her plans and stayed nearby.

All they could do was to hope and pray. Yet Lavon didn't seem to respond. Days passed into weeks, but the medicine wasn't helping. Finally they called some friends who were in the ministry and made arrangements for them to visit the hospital room together to pray over their small son. Almost immediately he began to improve. God had again answered prayer, and soon they were able to take him home to a twin brother, who was very happy to see him; they had been apart for three long weeks.

Lorne was the impatient one—even as a newborn. When he wanted something, he wanted it right then. He would lie on his tummy, his head thrown back so he could peek over his bassinet, and scream at the top of his lungs for Mother.

Lavon was much more content to wait. So he usually was cared for after his brother. Janette would whisper to him, telling him what a good boy he was and how much she loved his patience. Of course, he was still much too young to understand her words, but she hoped he picked up her tone of voice.

Edward was often gone because of his role as college president, and consistently those occasions fell over Sunday. It was difficult for Janette to get three small boys to church alone. There didn't seem to be a good way to do it. Which twin did she carry in from the car first, and what did she do with him when she went back for the other? She certainly could not carry both of them in at once, plus their diaper bags.

Then there was the service. Church nurseries were not as popular in those days. There was a small room at the back of the sanctuary known as the “cry room,” where a fussing baby could be taken, and this is where Janette usually spent her time. One or the other twin could be counted on to be too noisy for the service.

She sometimes wondered why she even bothered to go, and then reminded herself that, hopefully, they were developing in their little family a lifetime habit of church attendance, if nothing else.

It was fun to watch the twins grow. They were not identical—only confusingly look-alikes. On at least one occasion, when one of the toddlers had seen himself in the mirror he became excited at seeing what he thought was the other twin. At first his parents failed to realize what all his excitement was about until they heard him call the reflection by his brother's name.

Their roles together developed and changed over time. First, one would seem to take over leadership of the pair, and then they would switch. But always, they were very close. Lavon was able to keep a little ahead of Lorne in size, but even that was insignificant.

They were quite different in personality. Lavon made friends with people quickly, while Lorne was shy and reserved. Edward's father, Grandpa Oke, used to worry about it. He came to see the twins frequently, often on his lunch hour, for Grandmother was teaching school and he was alone at noon.

“Poor little Lornie,” he said to Janette. “Lavon will always get the attention.”

But his prediction was not fulfilled. Lorne had a quick wit and was soon using it, and after some time he gradually outgrew his shyness as well.

Grandpa Oke loved to watch the boys wrestle together. They were like two little bear cubs as they rolled around on the floor. If one should be accidentally bumped a little too hard, the game would stop while his brother hugged and consoled him. Then they would go back to their rolling again.

They did play well together. In fact, Janette was sure they could have lived in a world composed of only the two of them and been perfectly happy. But they enjoyed big brother Terry, too, and he got along well with both of them.

As often happens with twins, Lorne and Lavon developed their own system of communication long before they could communicate with the rest of the family. In their shared bedroom, one twin was in the crib and the other on the bed. There was also a tall chest of drawers in the room. Since neither could reach the top of the chest from the floor, it seemed to be a safe place for Janette to store any items she did not wish them to have. But the crib was on casters, and the boys soon discovered a way to get all the toys, tissues, and other goodies way up high out of reach.

When they awoke from their naps, they jabbered back and forth, and then the first twin from the bed pushed the crib over to the chest while twin number two stood in the crib corner ready to reach the treasures as soon as he was within striking distance. When he had possession of the things from the chest, he willingly shared. It took only a few such excursions before the casters were removed from the crib, and their scheme was thwarted.

Lavon still wheezed like an asthmatic sufferer from his earlier bout with pneumonia, especially when he cried. Because of this, Janette was told not to take him for his immunization shots until he was at least two, and that she should wait for Lorne's shots as well.

By the time the boys did go for their shots, they were old enough to converse, and by the second trip, they could remember what was going to happen.

“Who's first?” the nurse asked. Lavon was chosen, and he took the nurse's hand and followed her toward the door. Everyone in the waiting room chuckled when Lorne called after him, very seriously and emphatically, “Don't you cry.”

The boys grew into busy toddlers and soon developed a terrible attraction to the telephone on the hall wall. Over and over Janette had reprimanded them about leaving it alone, but there was Lavon at it again. He had dragged a kitchen chair to the spot and was methodically dialing someone—likely in Siberia or Hong Kong. Janette scolded him again and took the phone away from him. Then she told him to put the chair back in the kitchen.

To her surprise he looked up and said, “No.”

He had never directly defied before, nor had he shown a streak of stubbornness. On that day her patient, compliant son was like another child.

Janette insisted. Lavon refused. She threatened. He balked. She spanked. He defied. She spanked again. He remained stubborn. Then, in the middle of the confrontation, there was a knock at the kitchen door.

“You wait here,” she told her errant son—and he did.

It was Grandpa Oke at the door. “Dad, I'm sorry but I have a battle going on here,” she told him and briefly explained the situation.

He did not ask to come in, just turned and started to walk away. “Keep at it,” he called back over his shoulder. “You've gotta win.”

Janette knew that it was true, but how she hated it. She had to keep reminding herself that it was better for her little boy to have a sore bottom now than a ruined life later. She prayed and fought back the rising tears, but she spanked until Lavon gave in, pushed the chair into the kitchen where it belonged, and then threw himself into her arms for forgiveness and consolation while they cried together. He never openly defied her again.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Complete

Though she loved her boys dearly, Janette still wanted a girl. She had concluded that “if I'm staying home with three—it might as well be four.” Then the process of ordering their little family would be complete.

When the twins were twenty months old and Terry was four, she got her wish. “It's a girl, Janette,” came the announcement, and the nurse held up the newest addition for Janette to see. A little girl arrived in July of 1965, and was named Laurel Judith, after Judy Yoder, who died while Janette and Edward were at the Beulah Missionary Church. And she outdid all her brothers, weighing nine pounds and fourteen ounces.

Janette could hardly believe it. It was
really
a girl, and she didn't even remotely resemble the boys, especially not the twins. They had been long and rangy; this new baby was short and plump, with little arms ringed with baby fat. Janette had a hard time convincing herself that the new baby was really hers.

In her mind, she had envisioned a tiny infant. Since this was to be the last baby, she wanted to keep her little for as long as she possibly could—but she was not starting out even looking like a newborn, and from there Janette watched her grow quickly and steadily. The July birth date brought her home just in time for camp meeting, which was hosted at the Bible College. During her first week she was bundled up to be shown off and fussed over by many people who knew and loved her parents.

Reverend Geiger was the special speaker, and after one service, his wife slipped over to the house to take her turn holding the new arrival. In her hands she held a package, a gift for the new little daughter. While Mrs. Geiger snuggled the baby, Janette folded back the wrapping to reveal a delicate white dress set off by small blue butterflies all around the hem. She could just picture it. How fun to finally have a little girl to dress up!

Laurel was a good baby, and that was just as well. Janette was not sure how else she could have managed with two energetic twenty-month-olds, plus a going-on-five big brother. She had three in diapers for a period of time—enough to keep any mother busy, even with an automatic washer and dryer.

Now there were three little ones and a not-too-cooperative five-year-old to get ready for church on Sundays, so Janette made sure that everything was ready and laid out on Saturday night. Shoes had to be cleaned, clothes laid in proper order, and coats ready to go. There would be no time in the morning to look for missing items.

All the boys loved their new sister, who was usually happy to sit in a baby seat or lie on the floor and watch them play. Janette's days were full and busy, and all too soon the early stages of childhood slipped away, making room for growing up.

By the time Laurel was one and camp meeting rolled around again, Janette was ready to show her off properly. She had purchased a beautiful powder blue, multi-layered dress, complete with beadwork and matching crinoline. The pudgy baby in the fancy dress now needed only one thing—a hair bow.

Unfortunately, Laurel was still without the required hair. Undaunted, Janette gracefully taped the tiny ribbon to Laurel's fuzzy head and set out for camp meeting. Friends laughed—but Janette didn't mind at all.

Margie's husband, Wilf, was also working at the college with Edward. This meant their family lived close enough to stop in for coffee or for the children to play together. One thing Janette could always count on about Marge, no matter the hour, no matter what she was busy doing, a visitor was always welcomed as though she had been invited and Marge had been expecting her.

Marge and Wilf already had three children. Gary was born after Terry, Joanne was born before the twins, and Janice was just a few months older than Laurel. Eventually Greg would come along, bringing each family to a total of six. This made the cousins good friends and provided many times of laughter while Marge and Janette observed their children growing up side-by-side, and also some moments when the two mothers would wince.

On one of these occasions Laurel and Janice had come up with the wonderful idea of giving each other haircuts. Laurel cut first, taking a couple of snips, then passing the scissors to Janice. The older cousin did a much better job than Laurel, cutting her hair right down to the scalp in several places.

Janette had been pleased when Laurel's hair had finally grown to where it could be combed or curled as she had wished and she had begun to duly fuss over her daughter. But Janice had fixed that. Janette's heart sank as she surveyed the mess. Daddy just laughed and said it would grow.

But there had to be some attempt made to straighten out the choppy hairdo. Janette set her squirming daughter on a kitchen chair and went to work, trying to even out the patches. When later asked who had cut her hair, Laurel tipped her head and answered smugly, “Mommy did.”

One day Janette and her little brood walked down to Aunt Marge's house for coffee. As they said their good-byes before walking home, Janette paused a few minutes, still chatting. She allowed Laurel, now past two, to run on ahead with the boys, and she reached the house shortly before Janette.

On arriving home, she couldn't believe the sight that met her. In those few short minutes Laurel was already “baking” two cakes, one chocolate and the other vanilla. She had the cake mixes in separate bowls and had added all sorts of good things from the cupboard—an entire bottle of vanilla, chicken soup, and anything else that she had found handy. The whole mess wasn't just in the bowls, either.

While wiping and washing and sweeping up, Janette shook her head in wonder. She had been so pleased to receive her wish for a baby girl. But the nice, neat beribboned little lady she had envisioned was not the little girl she had discovered in the kitchen; and as the years passed, the differences between fantasy and reality became more obvious.

Janette had more than one occasion to be embarrassed at Laurel's less-than-feminine ways. One day they paid a visit to the Preschool Health Clinic. Earlier Laurel had visited her daddy's college and played on the tractor there. Janette had not seen it happen, but the little girl had slipped, scraping her back against the metal housing. When the clinic doctor asked for the shirt to be removed, Janette found a mess of scabs and bruises. She wondered what the doctor would think—and he did make a comment, though not with any accusation.

As a youngster, Laurel often insisted that she was not a girl but a tomboy, as though that was a third sex, and Janette could not help but be disappointed. Hair bows chosen so carefully were hard to position on the struggling, complaining child's head. Once there, they were sure to fall into the playground dust, somewhere near the monkey bars, and be abandoned. Bumps and bruises were always showing on the sturdy little legs, peeking out from under smudged dresses.

Janette knew she had a choice before her. Either she could make them both miserable, insisting that Laurel fall in with her mommy ideals of what a little girl should be, or she could accept the child that God had given her. So she let Laurel be herself—and watched nervously as the ambitious, energetic, imaginative, rowdy little girl grew up.

Besides having the steady demands of motherhood, Janette spent much of her energy in keeping up with her home. Saturday mornings routinely were baking times. With the many visitors that Edward's position involved, Janette kept a stock of frozen pies, buns, and sweet rolls ready for the unexpected. Soon her children were anxious to be involved in the process, and what had been orderly and efficient became difficult and time-consuming. She partially solved the task of “too many cooks in the kitchen” by assigning turns. Each child, in turn, was given a Saturday to be “assistant”—except on donut-baking day; then they formed an assembly line—with each child given one small step in the procedure.

Though she took each opportunity to involve her children in her activities, Janette felt the pressure of being the college president's wife. She did her best to involve herself by making appearances as she was able. She also continued to keep her home in order, keeping up with four active, growing children. Many nights found her falling into bed exhausted when she had been chasing after her lively youngsters all day, then making sure her home was clean, and her husband's meals and clothing cared for. Sleep was a luxury.