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.

Ebb and Flow

I had a marathon day yesterday, which seems to be par for the course lately. After getting Lily on the bus, dropping Max at preschool and doing some much-needed housework, laundry and cleaning of the van in the morning, I was a bit exhausted. I think sweeping out the van at 31 weeks pregnant in 22-degree temps might have been the kicker.

At any rate, I had time for lunch and a quick rest (no nap though) before picking up Lily early from school and shuttling all three kids to "well-child" check-ups. Colby, though, wasn't well. He's had a runny nose for months and started fevering up in the waiting room. Turns out he had another ear infection, but what better place to peak than in the doctor's office waiting room? (Good timing, little man!)

All three kids also had flu shots, which was NOT fun. But it's done now, and I'm glad!

Luckily, my aunt Karen met me after we finally got done at the pediatrician's office. I had an OB appointment (the one I had to reschedule upon arrival last week). She took the kids for ice cream and snacks while I consumed two whole magazines in that doctor's waiting room and finally got in to see my favorite doctor in the practice. (Thanks, Aunt K!)

With that out of the way, I returned to my spot as driver of the Mommy Express and drove out to my mom's for dinner. By the time I left there, I was seriously exhausted. When we got home, I was annoyed Shrek didn't seem to hear us come up the driveway and so didn't come help carry in.

Upon entering the house and dropping the fussy baby and the 645,643 other things in my arms, I said, "Next time, I'm going to lay on the horn so you'll come out and help me!"

Shrek's response? "Get over it!"

Oh man! Was I ever mad!!! This has got to be one of my least favorite things to hear him say. It's annoying as ^%$#, and I've decided I won't speak to him if and when he utters it. So I resolved last night that he wouldn't hear my voice again, at least not in deference to him. I huffed around, straightened the ever-in-need of straightening first level of the house, and then realized Colby needed meds and quick, before he fell asleep.

So I dosed him up with both ibuprofen and Omnicef as he sat on Shrek's lap. As I was headed back to the kitchen, I heard "Oh no! We've got a puker!" I rushed back in with the biggest cup I could grab, and sure enough! Colby was puking, a lot, on himself and on his daddy.

Karma bites! Poor daddy isn't as hardy as momma, and I could tell he was really wanting to flip out, but he couldn't. The two of us, faced the SECOND time in one week, with a predicament: puke all over the place and no one to help us but ourselves.

And then, just like the magic that it is, we were allies. His rude snap at me forgotten, my calm his only hope.

And that's marriage, or what marriage should be. It's being able to be mad without striking like a snake. It's being able to be civil, when civility is the last thing on your mind. And it's completely deserting your red-hot anger when you must: when one of your kids is puking, and there's no "i" in team. It's the ebb and flow.

And sometimes that ebb and flow is a long one: weeks or months of lukewarm, or even downright cold, relations and then - wham! - the love is back and better than ever. But sometimes that ebb and flow proves itself in seconds, as it did for us last night.

I'm happy to report the night wasn't as bad as it could have been. Colby is much better! I spent most of today taking care of the boys and doing a fair amount of lounging. Let me tell you something. I'm exhausted. Really. I'm so low-energy and short-of-breath today that I just might have a touch of that bug myself. But I think, more than anything, I'm just trying to catch my breath because I almost always push myself too far. I'm a hard-headed, busy-bodied perfectionist with the world to do. I will never be bored.

I am so glad it's the weekend. I'm ready to regroup.

But, more than that, I'm glad for my husband. He may not be perfect, and sometimes he's just a pain in the ass. But he's mine. And I am not letting go.

Losing and Finding My Mind

Ava and her beautiful momma....

So I told my mom tonight during my day-end report that every day I lose and find my mind several times. It's true. I couldn't seem to get Max out of the house today. While he's getting better, it's baby steps, baby steps. Oh, unless you're a baby I know named Colby, and then it's leaps and bounds into your big brother...

But I thought a lot today about our good friends who have a five-year-old battling a cancerous brain stem tumor. They were at St. Jude's today for yet another follow-up MRI to see what's happening. And early reports look good. Now they can enjoy the holidays and keep pressing on with treatment and living life out loud with their beautiful girl, Ava Cole.

And I thought about how they've lived with this diagnosis for more than seven months, and how their minds have had to wrap around it. How they have had to strive for balance among statistics, hope and parenthood. How they surely have lost and found their minds many times.

And my road is so easy in comparison.

So I send my continued prayers, love and affection out to them tonight and to our angel, Ava Cole, who brought together a community in such an amazing way, who has proven to all of us that you can affect change just by being what God made you.

If you're a parent, be sure to give some extra kisses to your own blessings tonight. In the hustle and bustle of this day and the holidays to come, let us strive to keep it all in perspective.

To read more about Ava, check out an article I wrote back in March while we waited for a clear diagnosis or www.avanichols.org.