The Present

Ah, the crux of life. I'm so awed by the many moods, the many seasons, the many emotions of life. More than anything, I'm awed by the blessings, all around, everyday. We get so busy and so stressed that we allow the edges of our lives to blur, and we lose sight of the blessings. But they remain.

Tonight, I'm catching up Luke's baby memory book. I'm dreaming of sifting through the glossiness of new photo prints, which I hope to actually be doing within the month or so. I'm marveling in the fact that our four babes, of varying ages, are upstairs, snugly sleeping in the safety and warmth of their beds. I spend so much time thinking of the spacious house we don't have, the backyard we need, the expanse of land I would love to set a home on, that I lose sight of what we do have: a warm, cozy house full of love. I'm proud of the house we built....

We have food too. And toys galore. Oh my, the toys! We could play all day, and often, we do. I've begun my Christmas shopping, and I'm encouraging the kids to think of the five gifts or so they REALLY want, as opposed to the products they're brainwashed into thinking they need every time a toy commercial comes on television. Even Colby has become accustomed to seeking out my face to say, binky hanging and drool falling, "I 'unt dat."

But first, a birthday. My little woman is having friends over after school tomorrow. They will take in playtime, Jukebox pizza, self-built ice cream sundaes and "Dolphin Tale" at a nearby theater. Miss Lily has carefully selected the treats and assembled the treat bags. She has grown more and more excited each day. And this weekend is about her and her birthday, with a family party and then her actual birthday on tap as well. I'm planning to dial down and enjoy it with her: my little helper girl, who makes me laugh and carry on in in ways good and bad. She is precious, and she is growing way too fast. The next time she offers me a place at her table, whatever the activity, I promise, right now, I'm going to take it.

Her brothers also carry on and continue to grow in all kinds of ways. I'm realizing how my busy-ness and my stress robs me of the awareness to see how fast, in fact, time actually is passing. I, on a whim, looked at an old photo album tonight from 2007 and 2008. I had two babies back then.

The work of my everyday life bogs me down, makes me complacent and, sometimes, even mean. But I'm going to resolve, again, to slow down, to cuddle, to savor, to write down the things I never want to forget in my journal, a baby book, this blog. I'm going to print those photos and put them in albums that I'll pull out in a couple of years to remember these days. But, even more, I'm going to squeeze and love and mug on those four little people in all their physical, present glory. I'm going to live more in the now, and not so much in the tomorrow.

Today is a gift. That's why they call it the present.

September Eve

The months are sliding by, bleeding into one another in shades of color, amazing me with their quickness. I am aware of changing seasons, lengthening limbs and growing minds. I'm torn between being appreciative and satisfied with what I have and with believing I must dream and want for more.

I'm fine.

Here's a rare snap of me and my babies. I use the term with endearment. It does not escape me that my babies are growing up. One day, God willing, they will all be taller than me.

I'll be their little momma. I'll be wrinkled, peaceful and happy. Maybe I'll be a best-selling author. I'll mentor whoever lets me. In short, I'll be me, but to borrow from the PBS slogan, I'll "be more."

Tonight, on this September eve, at this moment in time, I am sated. This day has been full; I have lived it well. My children are all asleep, my hubby is watching a strange, artsy movie on TV (but in the kitchen now for his snack), and I'm running my typical communication headquarters from my cozy corner of the couch with a hot cocoa on deck. As Lucas grows up a little, I am starting to incorporate more of the nonessential but enjoyable activities into my everyday life. I am tying on my running shoes everyday, whether I run, walk on my lunch break, or simply wear them on marathon grocery shopping trips with two babies assisting. It's the reminder I need to make an effort to move in the right ways to feel better. After I post this blog, I'm going to see about getting some long-overdue prints ordered. I'm going to remember to kiss my husband more.

And I'm going to get to bed, ASAP, I promise. Ha. I won't get enough sleep tonight, just as I haven't for many, many nights running. But September will come all the same. And then it will go. And the months will file past in turn. I'll be here through them all, loving and nurturing and thinking and dreaming and writing and walking and living.

Happy September Eve.

Summer State of Mind

I'm not the kind of person that can come home to a messy house after work and flop onto the porch swing. I leave this house nearly everyday in a blaze of glory. That is to say, if I can get most of what we need, my four kids and myself out the door, I do it, even if the house looks as though it's been hit by a cyclone. When you see the open door, run!

In spite of my need to always be cleaning, sorting and looking for the next crisis, I've been trying to dial back my efforts to finish what will never be done. Several friends' Facebook statuses have tugged me into a place of awareness lately. One talked about how she was laying on the trampoline, looking at the stars and listening to her kids run and catch lightning bugs. Now doesn't that sound like summer?! The other had a photo of her youngest in a laundry basket with the caption, "The laundry will always be there, but I won't always be little."

It is so true.

I look at Luke and try to remember my other kids at this stage. I nuzzle his sweet Baby Magic-smelling head and swear I'll never forget it. But I will.

So it's my responsibility, as mother and unofficial Roberts family summer cruise director, to come up with activities to not only make these days fun but to make these days lazy and memorable. I have to juggle, to be sure, in order to get anything done, but I will remember the beauty there is in doing nothing.

Kids are the royalty of summer. They do summer so well and so naturally. In spite of the fact that I used to be a kid and a summer queen in my own right, I've grown up. But my vow is this: while I still have to go to work, I'll loosen up about bedtimes and ice cream everyday. I'll let the dishes go, when I can. I'll devise more impromptu swimming trips. I'll run through the sprinkler and allow the kids to have more lemonade stands than the local economy cares to support.

I can hardly wait for tomorrow morning's iced coffee, but first.... I'll sleep in my warm bedroom with the cool fan and a sheet.

Because it's summer, and I'm in a summer state of mind.

The Kids Are All Right

The details of my life, my musings and my wonderings continue to float about my sleepy, hormone-riddled mind. I'm swinging back and forth between feeling sufficiently efficient and overwhelmed. I don't feel terribly unlike myself or incessantly chained to a newborn. Instead I feel important in the way that I have not chosen to be, but just am. I have moments without Luke, say forty minutes in the grocery store across town, when I remember him at home, startle and wonder if he's awake and needing me. It's like I've grown another appendage that can sometimes be removed, but not for long. To put it simply, it's like I've gained another 8 pounds of my heart, living outside of my body.

I'm also aware that I need to take care of myself. The first twenty pounds have melted off, and now the work of getting the final twenty-five off must begin. At this point, I just want to hydrate and to be mindful of my meals. I am trying to curb the sweet tooth a bit and choose the colorful fruits and veggies instead. And I'm being gentle with myself. I'm completely aware of the amazing thing my body just did by growing and nurturing a fetus and birthing a newborn, and by what it is doing now by keeping a newborn completely hydrated, fed and growing with only my breast milk. And I'm remembering that I thought the weight wouldn't come off completely the other three times, but it did.

As if the care and keeping of Luke and me isn't enough, there are four more members in the family. It's hard, but I think we're doing it. I think we're not only surviving, but thriving.

I'm so proud of Shrek for the father he is. He truly gets better and better all the time, and I am more in love with him than ever. It's been so great to see how he's finally not rattled by the rattling screams of a newborn. When you're a first-time parent, or even the second or third time around, those cries make you feel like the apocalypse is near and that the clumsy, slowness of your fumbling fingers on the diaper tabs and the endless snaps and buttons are to blame. But, at some point, you realize this is what babies do. Newborns--or Roberts newborns, at least--don't really like being naked and cold during bath time or diaper changes. They like to express their discomfort. But Shrek and I? Well, we don't take it personally.

So, we're nearly four weeks in on baby number four. As a family, we've managed a high school basketball game, two Masses, and a long trip to Athens for a meet and greet at my workplace. With Shrek and I dividing up the kids and conquering, we have been able to do much, much more. We've even managed a movie date night at home complete with wine and much laughter.

We're not following any manuals. We're finding our own way, trusting our guts and loving one another. And it's all working out. It's a crazy life. Our hands and our hearts are full. And the kids are all right.

It's the Final Countdown

So we're in Final Countdown mode around here. However, since I've been nesting for a good month, we're ready for game time. I have decided, though, that the longer you have, the more you do. There are always more bills to pay, laundry to beat, toenails to paint. My to-do list the past two days has been slaughtered. Tomorrow, I relax. We'll head to a second birthday party for my niece Brooklyn tomorrow night, and it will be "go time" before we know it!

I've had fun playing with my new phone--a Droid Incredible--the past couple of days. Wow, kids. It really is amazing what today's smart phones can do!!! So this is good news for you all, with your picture-hungry eyes and your natural human curiosity to know as much as you can as soon as you can. (I know the feeling.) We'll be posting photos and maybe even blog posts from the comfort (discomfort?) of our hospital room.

I also have to remember to shoot one final video of the Roberts kids while their number is still three tomorrow night. And it's always incredible to look back on one last moving image of the amazing belly that the final weeks of pregnancy bring.

Soon, I'll be breathing through it, keeping my eye on the prize, and then nuzzling a new miracle.

See you all on the other side!

Home Stretch

Ahhhh, the home stretch. I'm finally here. I'm officially on maternity leave. I just had to do it.

I'm 37 weeks tomorrow and hoping to get to the OB's office for my appointment and to schedule an induction (maybe for some time next week?) tomorrow before the snowstorm hits.

I really am feeling well, in spite of the pressure, back pain, killer heartburn and other assorted ailments. Mr. Colby is giving me a blessed week or two of very good sleep. The little man has decided, finally, he likes to be in his own crib all night! Mysteriously, he has woken up at 6:36 a.m. the last three days. Have you other moms experienced that deja vu? Each of my kids have gone through their own strange periods of waking at the EXACT time each day. How does that happen??

Anyway. I am on my way to the finish line here. My feelings are mixed in that I so love pregnancy, newborns and those early days and weeks of life. And this is it. This really is the final babe.

But I continually strive to keep my eyes, mind and heart wide open. I'm cataloguing moments. I'm achingly aware that this time of my life, with all its work, repetition and sheer exhaustion, might well be the time I will miss most as I age and as my children grow.

I am in the home stretch of my childbearing days. I am finishing chapters and beginning new ones.

My sincere thanks to Kristin Pottmeyer for helping me to preserve this time with the most gorgeous images I could have imagined. There are more to come, more family photos with the final, precious branch to be taken.

And I am ever sure that "these are my reasons."

Balancing Act

So I'm waiting on a baby.

I'm feeling upbeat, nesting, getting a lot of things done. I'm back at work, but much refreshed. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel! The days are long; I miss my naps. But I'm hanging in. I'm finishing projects, sending important emails and trying not to bust my ass on the newly waxed hallway floors. It's all good.

And I'm balancing. I'm balancing the urge to see this baby soon with letting this baby mature and gestate as long as possible. I'm trying to both spend extra one-on-one time with each of my three kids while enjoying any alone time I can find, knowing it will soon be more scarce than it already is. I'm balancing the urge to nest feverishly with the knowledge that it might just be better to relax and know that things will fall into place as needed.

I'm amazed by how peaceful I can still feel while knowing what's ahead. I'm no spring chicken mother. I know this is going to be tough, especially since big brother Colby will be only 20 months old.

I know, from experience, that I'll be rather tied to an adorable, but demanding, nursing newborn, that I'll sit on the couch nursing for hours on end looking at the mess that is my living room and wanting, craving, desperately seeking ten solitary minutes to run around the place, monkey-do-style, to clean it up. I'll yearn for my Kenmore, for a stunt double to keep the house the way I want to keep it.

I'll be up all hours of the night, so tired at times that it won't be funny at all, that I won't even be able to do it justice in a story to my sister on the cell phone on her way to work the next day. I'll be pouchy and leaky and will have numerous physical oddities occurring all over the map of my body.

I'll hate my husband. I'll resent the fact that the buck stops here, that I am the end-all, be-all. I will look at his sleeping figure during the third feeding of the night, and I'll want to kick him. I'll feel the horns growing from my forehead. And then I'll wake up the next morning and forget all about it. He'll turn back into my lifeline: the half of me that goes out of the house for normal life, the one who picks up the dark chocolate or the Teddy Grahams or the coffee creamer that helps me carry on. He'll melt my heart as I watch him melt the first time the baby smiles at him. He'll be the one who goes through the experience with me, as much as anyone can anyway.

I'll struggle through some days and soar through others. Caring for a newborn in addition to my three other children will likely be one of the hardest physical challenges I'll ever live through. And I will live through it.

I'll take the amazing, heartwarming moments motherhood will bring whenever they present themselves. I'll tuck them into the folds of my heart. I'll savor the funny things the kids say, cherish the times when four little heads lean together in affection, squirrel away the memories for the sunset of my life. I'll resolve to hold fast to the moments that take my breath away.

And it will be awesome...

So, baby, I'm waiting. I'm growing and thinking and enjoying. I'm prepared to take the balancing act that is my motherhood to the next level. Take your time in there, and know that your momma will be ready when you are.

It's going to be epic.

Free As We'll Ever Be

Self-portrait :: Me and Colby, October 2009

While the Zac Brown Band wasn't at Jamboree in the Hills this year, I've been thinking a lot about their most recent hit. We really are free as we'll ever be. This is it, kids. Quit aching for more when you have it all!

I find my freedom in consuming a Nicholas Sparks book in 24 hours. I find it in hard-shell chocolate-covered ice cream with my hubby and kids, in the gorgeous Kodak prints I picked up from the post office, in hearing the heartbeat of my unborn child, and in the messy red curls and ornery grin of my one-year-old. I find it in looking at all the Facebook photos of new babes I know. I find it in a walk with my sister, in catching up on gossip and rehashing Jamboree 2010. And I find my freedom in that I got to do all of these things today.

My little brother Jon likes the song except for the repetitive "But we ain't got a lot of money" line. Yes, they say it SEVEN times in a row. But I think that's just because it's So. Damn. True.

We ain't got a lot of money, but who the &^$#)* cares? I'm not lonely. I'm not sick. I'm not wishing away my present for a future that's not guaranteed.

I'm free as I'll ever be. And it's a goal of mine to remember that. Maybe I can't run away, because my responsibilities as a wife, mother and employee keep me here, but at least I'm free to be a wife, mother and employee. I'm valued in spite of my sex, my lineage or my race. I'm lucky. And I can choose how I spend my time, how I speak about others, how I contribute to my family, my friends and this world.

All is well in my corner of the world tonight. My wish is that you can say the same...