Tuesday, June 3, 2014

we can do things

you have a kid and the world literally stops. he is your first and you are thrust into this foreign world of sleep deprivation and poop and leaking boobs and you sink or swim for a few weeks or even months. and somewhere in there, you discover that even though you are no longer "you" but instead a you plus one, somebody has to get some groceries. you plus one plan your trip with a dedication that rivals your professional board exam prep... you have 13 spare onsies and 14 diapers, a pacifier that he has never taken to, 3 burp cloths and an extra mom shirt. the car seat stands ready. he has eaten. he has been thoroughly burped and changed. you are ready.
you drive to the store. park. pray.
you plus one can do this.
you leave him in the carseat because he fell asleep on the way and there is no way you are going to risk waking him. it is the quickest trip ever- no list- no coupons- minimal eye contact with strangers. when he makes a small peep, your heart races, ready for the screams.
somehow, you make it through and walk back to the car. the sky is blue and the birds are singing and you realize that you plus one can leave the house alone. you can sorta do things just like you used to.

then you have baby 2 and you panic at the thought of taking the two of them anywhere. you avoid the grocery store because you plus two is a whole different ballgame. baby 1 is now a toddler and nobody wants to see him in a tantrum. but then out of necessity, you again join society. you toss a spare diaper in your purse, but nothing else because moms of 2 are known to live dangerously. you wear baby girl in a sling and push toddler boy in the cart. you might fend off a few moments of panic, but eventually it is no big thing. life goes on. you plus 2 are rockstars.

then comes baby 3. three kids.
this changes things because you only have 2 hands.

and kid 1 and 2 are bored. already.

you have successfully navigated the store 3 or 4 times alone with the wolf pack in tow. you didn't even take your bag with you because the store is right down the street and if baby 3 poops all over her clothes, you wouldn't want to drag them all into the bathroom anyway. you get adventurous and hit the library. it goes okay- nobody kicks you out so you dream big. maybe you plus 3 can go big places this summer and no one will throw tantrums or run into traffic or rip your top down and demand to be fed.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

mary, mary, quite contrary

once upon a time there was a house.
and the house had no landscaping and the lady of the house just wanted some flowers and trees and privacy.

and the years went by and she planted and planted.
some trees fell down, some gardens were neglected, but by and large the flowers grew. the bushes grew. the plants grew. and the lady was happy and the house smiled.

and one day, the lady decided she wanted some lilies and purchased them end of season in hopes that they would surprise her the following spring when they burst from the earth.
instead, they surprised her husband who forgot they were there and weed whacked them down before they would realize their potential. and then again the following spring and the lady was sad. but they were just a few flowers among a yard full of life and so she looked forward to the third spring.

finally after many days of rain and frost on a fine May day, the lilies peeked from the ground, the tips bright green, the buds healthy and ready to show off the beautiful fruits of 3 years growth. the husband was careful to let them live and the lady was ripe with anticipation of her lily border finally springing forth.

and then while her attention was elsewhere, her 4 year old suddenly pulled them up by the roots to add to her "collection"

and the lady was sad.
maybe next year...

Monday, May 26, 2014

tears will fill a river to ferry my heart

today was the kids' first official day "off" from school. i feel like i should go ahead and jump head first into summer fun, but i am just not there yet. aaron went to a Cardinal game, i was generally crabby, and the kids were a weensy bit challenging.
bedtime whack-a-mole was especially lengthy with one and then the other popping back out...
"love you mom"
"night mom"
"see you in the morning mom"
all set to me gritting my teeth trying not to scream at them to get the hell back to bed.

and then tears. from A this time, not me, though I could've cried too.

i wandered back into her room and she was sobbing.
"what's the matter?"
"i just lo-oo-oo-ve you (hiccup). i don't want you to die"

she was so sad.
in fact, she has been so preoccupied with this lately that it is starting to freak me out a little. Maybe i should get some tests run...

i just held her and told her i am not dying and when eventually (hopefully in the very distant future) i am gone, i will always be in her heart.
she cried and cried (and so did baby S from the other room because it was feeding time) and i just wanted to freeze time. there i sat with her little arms around my neck, her tear-stained face buried in my shoulder, asking "will you always be with me?" and i fast forwarded to a teenage A who wonders "why won't mom leave me alone?"

i can only hope i don't forget what her beautiful face looks like at 4 precious years old with fat tears stuck to her longer than long lashes, her tangled, pink princess night gown, and her down-turned mouth saying how much she loves me.
because even when she is pushing me away and demanding independence she will always be with me.