A Day in the Life of Crazy

It's 2:00.

I'm sitting in the clinic's waiting room with the two babies.

I came 20 minutes early in hopes of getting in faster only to find out the doctor was running 20 minutes behind.

Figures.

Because when I'm late, that's when I get the look of shame.

Neither baby has napped and it's like they are high.

Waiting...

Katherine is continuously throwing her blue Jellycat elephant on the floor and then proceeds to let out hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.

It's contagious.  Except no one in the waiting room is humored.  Tough crowd.

I haven't showered since Saturday.  I did remember to brush on some powder and a few swipes of mascara just so I wouldn't scare anyone. I left the house in jeans, last night's pullover and a bumpy ponytail.  Did I brush my teeth?  I can't remember.

I'm so hot it's a miracle no one has stopped me to ask if I might be single and available.

What's holding them back?  Oh, these two babies?  No worries.  They're just on loan for the day.

We were one hour into Brian's four-day business trip when I realized, without a shadow of doubt, that Bobby most certainly had a raging ear infection.  His first one.

I called the clinic amid his whimpering cries.  They could get me in at 2:00.  But the big kids were out of school at 2:45.  It would be tight.

And this is where you praise Jesus for good family.  My sister came to the rescue and took over pick up duty.

Because when the appointment lady said 2:00 what she really meant was 2:35.

It's fine.  No really.  I love pulling tricks out of my sleeve for the baby and the toddler when they are tired, hungry and in an endless wasteland of no toys, bad soaps on TV and an array of various viruses creeping along every handle, button and knob.

Still waiting...

Under my breath I tell Bobby he is going to seriously owe me HUGE for the rest of his life if he doesn't actually have an ear infection.

And that's when you know you've gone to another place. When you wish for your kid to be sick.  Just so everything is justified and you can get the damn antibiotics and hope for a solid four hours of sleep.

While your husband is halfway across the country at one of those posh restaurants with old black and white photos of the Rat Pack on the walls.

Oh but God love him.  He knows it's a mountain I'm climbing and he doesn't ever pretend like he's got it worse.

Of course the doctor confirmed Bobby had a terrible double ear infection.

He told me treating the infection with antibiotics was optional.

I consider myself pretty crunchy.  But with four kids and a husband out of town all week, now was not the time to go all holistic on The Baby.

So drugs it was.

And then when the pharmacy advertises Drive Thru as one of their perks what that really means is sit in your car and suck in fumes for 20 minutes because there's no way in hell we're helping you before these other customers that are standing right here in front of our face.

I rolled down all the windows so they could hear The Baby screaming.  And also the other chilluns running amok in the back seat.

Back at home it was freezer-to-microwave, preservative-loaded, not-an-ounce-of-nutrition, cancer-causing macaroni and cheese.  I'm honestly not even sure how they ended up in my freezer in the first place but boy am I glad they did.

I sliced up some red peppers and called it part of this complete dinner.

Half of my pack was in bed by 6:30.  And the other half was bathed, jammied up and reading books on the sofa before seven bells.

It was some kind of awesome.

The night wasn't a total loss.  I felt accomplished when I finished scrubbing the kitchen floors even if I was cursing my mother the whole time for giving me these stupid OCD genes that say, "MONDAY IS CLEANING DAY. DO NOT DEVIATE!"

Showering is for the birds.

These are the days they don't tell you about when you're 7 months pregnant with your first baby and you're shopping at Pottery Barn Kids trying to hunt down the perfect bumper and matching crib skirt.

I kid you not, Bobby sleeps in pink bedding.  Pink.

They're going to pee, poop and puke all over it anyway.

I sound bitter.  I'm not.

It's just that when your kid is sick and your husband is away and you're just trying to survive by eating cancer noodles, you realize none of that crap matters.

Throw some love on those kids and all will be fine.

Today is a new day that included a hot shower.  And a happy baby.  And lots of coffee.  It has been divine indeed.

School and Siblings

Here are the obligatory First Day of School photos for all the grandmas that read this here blog.

Lucy is so stinkin' cute I think I might die.  I love that while all the other little girlfriends in her class were dressed up in the latest fashion trends, she was still rockin' her old school peter pan collar and puff sleeves.  Oh Lucy girl, don't ever grow up.

Things were not very stressful this year because everyone is going to the same school as last year albeit a few schedule changes.  So I totally thought I had a handle on my emotions as I walked my big first-grader to school for the first day. (Click to see my Instagram video.)

We gathered on the plaza with the rest of the school and found his teacher's line.  William is never afraid or scared to try new things but he always has just a hint of nerves on the first day of anything, especially if he doesn't see anyone he knows right away.  He doesn't have very many friends from last year's class in his class this year so I was sensing just the slightest bit of anxiety from him.  But we found his line, I gave him a hug and a kiss and then stepped back to congregate with the rest of the parents as we awaited the ringing of the first bell. 

I stood back and watched him anxiously fidget from afar.  And then the greatest thing in the world happened.  His kindergarten teacher from last year, the most magical teacher ever, tapped William on the shoulder.  William turned around and lit up like a Christmas tree at the sight of her.  She cupped his face in both her hands, kissed him on the cheek and then enveloped him in a hug and wished him well in first grade.

At that point I was thanking Jesus that I thought to put my sunglasses on that morning.

I wasn't crying because I was sad my little bird was leaving the nest again.  Yes, the first day of school is ever the reminder that there's no going back.  Kindergarten last year, first grade this year, second grade next year, and on and on.  But that's not what had me emotional.

As I watched my little guy and this teacher he so loves much I was emotional because I'm so thankful.  I'm so thankful for this beautiful boy who loves, LOVES school.  I'm so thankful for this wonderful school that feels like I'm sending William off to the comforts and love of Grandma's house every time I say goodbye in the morning.  Because that magical teacher from last year?  She is no exception from the rest of the faculty and staff.  I'm so thankful Brian and I have found a way to afford this school and this house that's so close to that school.

This year Lucy is attending afternoon preschool three days a week.  Her school, affiliated and across the street from William's, dismisses at the same time as the big school so much to her delight she gets to walk home with William in the patrol line.  This is a big deal.

Yesterday I stayed close behind with Bobby in the Ergo as I watched the two of them walk hand in hand.  There are quite a bit of kids that walk in the line and they are all running and pushing and making their way down the sidewalk. At one point Lucy got caught up in the shuffle and tripped and fell.  She started to cry and William knelt down to help her up.  Other kids were still trampling by and I heard William shout, "Watch out, guys! This is my sister!"

I melted a little bit.

The summer was long.  And it was hard.  But the day before school started William and Lucy played outside together all day.  They started a flower stand.  They picked a few flowers in the yard, set up a table on the sidewalk and started soliciting poor passersby.  This was an idea thought up and orchestrated all on their own.  There was some bickering about cost and who would get to operate the pretend computer, as most business partners do, but mostly they were getting along beautifully.

I was reminded that even though we all need a break from the closeness of summer and we all need to do our own thing, those two are siblings first.  And that will be forever.

 

Toddlers Escaping Death

Last night Katherine had a pretty big accident that ended without so much as a bump or scrape.  It was one of those things that could have ended badly.  Like, really badly.

We were over at Brian's parent's house for the evening so that I could attend a bridal shower for his sister.  Just as we were about to load all the kids in the car and head home, Katherine decided to make one very large end table her own personal jungle gym.  She secured her hands to the edge, lifted up both her feet and that's when the table, and the massive lamp that sat atop it, toppled over on top of her.  Except it didn't.  Miraculously both the lamp and table somehow missed her little body.  But the dent left in the hardwood floors is enough to make me a little nauseous.

There was a lot of panic.  And screaming.  And crying.  It was pretty traumatic.  And I'm not just writing that for the sake of drama.

Bobby ended up on the floor in the rush to the scene so he was crying.  William, not understanding everyone's sudden alarm, was crying.  At least half the adults were choked up.  And Katherine, scared out of her mind, was of course hysterical.

I secured Bobby and Brian took to Katherine.  It didn't take too long to realize that we had just narrowly avoided a major incident.  We combed through her little body upside and down.  After her broken arm earlier this summer I was having a bit of PTSD.  If there was a problem I certainly wasn't going to let it linger for a couple of days like I did before.

Nana offered ice cream and all was right in the world.

I think I feel the worst for Brian's mom who has called and texted me no less than five times since last night.  She knows it could have easily gone the other way and keeps rewinding and replaying the events in her head.

I admit to thinking about it a few times as I tried to fall asleep last night.  But mostly I'm unaffected.

The truth is, these things happen.  Kids are constantly just barely missing death's door or serious injury.  If you really think about it, it's a damn miracle any kid makes it to their third birthday unscathed.  And Katherine's guardian angel, in particular, seems to be working overtime.

Toddlers, by nature, are curious beings and you just do the best you can to keep them safe.  And then you pray like their life depends on it.  Because it does.

The Toddler

In other more light-hearted news, we are in the midst of a major heatwave.  Which is funny because we had a rather mild summer.  I would argue we had some of the best weather in the country for the better part of July and August.  But just like Old Man Winter never forgets about us, neither do the dog days of summer.  We're playing out the final days of summer vacation in the A/C or outside with our toes deeply submerged in ice cold water.

And so, with sweat dripping down our brows, we're crawling to the finish line.  That being the first day of school in four very long, very hot days.  Today has been so boring and dull that I described it to Brian as "a black hole of infinite nothingness."  Which is pretty dark now that I'm rereading it.  But when the most productive thing done all day was to relocate all the school supplies from the Target bag to the backpacks, well, we're struggling.

But at the very least today will go out with all my children still in tact and apparently, as of late, that's saying a lot.

Only 13 Day Until School and Other Less Important Updates

We're nearing the finish line, folks.  And I'm equal parts, "Whoop whoop! Homestretch, baby!" and also, "Omigosh summer is almost over--QUICK! What fun things have we forgotten to check off the Must Do to Make a Happy Childhood list?"

I had this one really bad day last week where nothing of any significance happened.  It was just a really looooong day with a lot of fighting and screaming and not listening.  When things get to that point I really want to overreact and send the Bigs to their room for the rest of the day.  The real reason I'm impatient is because their erratic behavior is getting in the way of me taking care of the babies who have more pressing needs.  So we all get a little annoyed with each other.

And that right there is the best illustration I can use to explain why a school routine does wonders for us.  I literally need another adult (their teacher) to take over for a few hours so that they get their activity needs met and I can devout time and attention to the babies for the lion's share of the day.

Everyone's happy and homeschooling is not for us.  The end.

All that said, the babies are progressing like crazy and I'm really starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, we won't be in this season of infants and toddlers for the rest of all eternity.

Bobby has been crawling for about a month now.  A full two whole months ahead of any of my other babies, who, it should be noted, were late crawlers/walkers.

This boy can move.  And also get into stuff.  I had forgotten, after having two back-to-back girls, just how active little boys are.  Say what you want about gender neutrality but I think it's a whole big chunk of baloney.  Little boys and little girls are innately different.  They just are.  For one, I'm pretty sure that every boy is born with a little bit of ADHD.  Which, I suppose, would render the term "disorder" unwarranted.  But I guarantee you every mother of a little boy at one time or another has wondered, "Should he get tested?"

The answer, in most cases, is no.  He's just a boy.

Last night I tried to get Bobby out of the bath but was failing miserably because he was obsessed with this little ball I had thrown in the water with him.  I had to grab both him and the ball to get him to cooperate.  After he was all jammied up he was still having a love affair with this ball so I decided, what the heck?  And I put him to bed with the ball.  I didn't hear a single peep after that.

Some kids have a blankie or stuffed animal.  Bobby has a ball.

In other sleep news, we put Katherine in a big bed this week.  Brian's mom took the big kids to her house for a couple of days so it seemed like the perfect time to give it a whirl since she had the bedroom all to herself.  I'm thinking Kate must have something else up her sleeve because this process was way too easy.  I do think, however, the fact that we didn't acknowledge the change AT ALL played in our favor.  We just simply placed her in the bed like this is what we had been doing forever.  She's been sleeping 12 hours at night.  And when she wakes up in the morning she just sweetly calls for someone to come get her.

But the big kids are headed home as we speak so the sleeping arrangements for tonight are already on the top of my mind.  I had Kate in Lucy's bed, which happens to be a full size.  So potentially I could put the girls in bed together and hope for the best.  Otherwise there is a trundle option for our model of bunk beds that I could look into purchasing.

Do any of your children sleep in the same bed together?  What are the positives and negatives?

As for my own personal updates, I've started running again!  I was sidelined for a couple of months by an ankle injury which I may or may not have remembered mention here.  Anyway, it's all healed and I'm back at it three mornings a week.  It is a total sanity check for me because if nothing else I'm getting out of the house for 30-40 minutes in the morning.

I'm having an internal debate about whether it's better to run with or without music.  I usually run without music.  I like to hear my breath and footsteps because it helps me get into a rhythm.  I ran with music for the first time last week and was surprised to find that I was completely wiped out after only two of my usual three miles.  I looked at my clock and realized only 16 minutes had passed.  An eight-minute-miler I am not.  The music propelled me to run faster which is great except when your goal is distance instead of time.

So maybe the key is run without music until I think I can't go any further and then let Bon Jovi propel me the rest of the way.

Yesterday I made my annual trip to Target to purchase school supplies.  Does anyone else get totally excited when you see all those racks stacked with office supplies?  All I can picture is how organized I could be (a giant dry erase calendar!) or how calm and quiet and crafty we could be gathered around the table drawing (new crayons!) or snipping (Fiskars!) or creating (construction paper and glue!).

Then the Target Lady rings me up and is all, "That'll be $177, please!"  I'm all, "Whaaaaaaa...?"

Fifteen-cent folders add up fast.

I didn't go supply shopping with the kids this year but spied this gem on Facebook this morning and had to share.  Enjoy!

Rolling With It

I thought we could just start out with this little gem.

If you have a Facebook account, or Instagram, or Twitter, or a blog it is common and easy to post the best of the best of your super idyllic life.  I am just as guilty as the next person.  Who wouldn't want their old middle school friends to see just how crazy awesome your life is now?

Except that most of those perfect pictures represent about .001% of actual life scenarios.

So here's my real life.  A lip curl smile.  A I'm-2-hours-past-nap-and-I-don't-want-to-sit-and-smile-ANYMORE! A diaper ready to burst. And an are-you-kidding-me look.

This is real life.  And it's so awesome.

Shortly thereafter Brian snapped this photo of me.

I'm posting it to show that sometimes if you give up on getting the perfect photo, you'll get one when you least expect it.

Katherine didn't want to sit still or look at the camera.  William wanted to look through the binoculars. So I sat down and chilled out.  It was past 1:00. We had just finished up at the Farmer's Market and took a stroll down to the ol' Mississippi to get a better look at the lock & dams.  We ate fresh local blueberries right out of the carton.  The kids sampled green beans.  The yellow kind.  Brian and I sampled whiskey. (For real!)  We bought buckets of corn and juicy tomatoes.  The kids ran and ran and ran.  And then melted down.  And we took it in stride because we were out and doing something.  All of us.  Together.

Last night we forfeited our normal routine again. We made a Target run at dinner time which was HI-larious.  Pretty sure we convinced a few people to go child free for the rest of their lives.

We bought cheese and crackers and grapes and hummus and baby carrots in addition to our list items.  Then we drove to the Sculpture Garden in downtown Minneapolis.  A summer family favorite of ours.  There was some sort of photography class happening.  And also some other sort of gathering with a lot of cheering that we couldn't quite figure out.  Either way our party of six was a traditional minority that stuck out like a sore thumb among all the local hipsters and shakers.

On the way home, in between over-tired baby screams, Brian said, "See?  We can do cool stuff."

Like he was previously doubtful.  Or nostalgic.

I knew we had it in us.  Even if I did get home, throw all the kids in bed and chug a beer like my life depended on it.

7 Quick Takes: 8.2.13

1. So this is my 1,001st blog post.  Wow!  I only noticed when I logged in and saw the number.  Six years, four kids and I'm still writing.  Not as frequently, I realize, but I've learned to let go of the guilt of not being a consistent writer and instead letting this blog be here for me when I need it.

Someday I still dream of writing a book.  But today I'm satisfied with just a quiet moment at the kitchen table click-clacking away on the keyboard.  A book though.  I'm putting it out there.  It's going to happen.

2.  My post on Wednesday wasn't supposed to be what it became.  I intended to sit down and write a little update on Casa del Nash but instead this is what came out.  I can always feel it inside me.  When I need to take all the little bits that are floating around and cluttering up my ability to be the best me.  I need to organize them.  Reconcile my feelings.  And get it out in the form of sentences and paragraphs.  And then my life feels real again.

I will never stop writing.

3. So enough of all the heavy stuff.  Updates, updates.

For the past couple of weeks our family has been playing this super fun game.  And when I say super fun what I really mean is the opposite of that.  What you need is this: Three bedrooms, four little kids, two cribs, a set of bunk beds and a whole heap of tolerance and patience.  Sometimes I forget to bring those last two things.

The game is called Musical Bedrooms.  The object of the game is to find the best kid combination within the space we have to get everyone asleep and happy before 9:00.  We usually fail.  But I think we're getting close.

It's tricky with two babies.  The littlest one is annoyed to be awoken after he's already been asleep and the other baby is like, "HOLY SMOKES THIS IS SO AWESOME TO BE WITH MY OLDER SIBLINGS! I WAS IN A BEDROOM BY MYSELF FOR MY WHOLE LIFE AND I HAD NO IDEA HOW BORING THAT WAS! LET'S JUMP! AND SCREAM! QUICK, THROW EVERYTHING OUT OF MY CRIB! WAIT, I WANT MY NUKIE! I'M GOING TO CRY FOR MY NUKIE. I'M GOING TO SCREAM FOR MY NUKIE!  WILLIAM, GET OUT OF BED AND HELP ME! OK, NOW PLAY PEEK-A-BOOK WITH ME. OK, NOW GET ME ONE OF YOUR BOOKS.  I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR PAGES OUT. THIS IS GREAT, GUYS.  SUPER FUN. YIPPEE! PAAAAAAAAAAR-TAY!"

Like I said, tricky.

4. This is the time of year when everyone collectively hangs their heads and somberly says, "Summer's over." And when I say, "Crap, still another month until school starts."  Aside from a gymnastics class here and a golf league there, I'm out of camps which means I have to go inside my own head to think up new and exciting things to do for the next few weeks.  It's going to be R-O-U-G-H.  Hang on, folks.

5.  On the up side, however, college football season is just around the corner.  And I have to remind any of my newer readers within the past year or so that I am not at all being sarcastic.  I had this idea of writing a series of posts on a girl's guide to loving football.  What are your thoughts on this?  If you like it, what would you want to hear about?

6 & 7.  And since I desperately need to shower before nap time is over, I'm going to burn my last two takes with cabin vacation photos since I never posted any.  ENOY!

To Just Be

Last week I signed the big kids up for an afternoon camp just up the street.  It was three hours every day for a week.  And it was the best idea I've ever had.

On one of the camp days when I was finally somewhat caught up with house chores and the sun was shining and the babies were napping I decided to pull out three issues of my magazine (because that's how far behind I am) and sit in my lawn chair on the patio.  I realize I could have used this extra time to write a blog post.  Or finish my Kindle book from the last year.  Or call a friend.  Or write some emails.

But as soon as I got in that chair I forgot about the magazines.  Instead of consuming my mind with the thoughts and needs of someone else during every minute of every day I realized how lovely it was to hold my face up to the sun and to notice to my own thoughts drift in and out at will.

For a small part of my day I just wanted to be.  I didn't want to cringe when I heard someone screaming about a toy being grabbed from their hands.  I didn't want to think about what I was making for dinner.  Or which part of the laundry cycle needed to be moved through.  I let emails go unreplied and phone calls left unreturned.  The crumbs on the floor sat idle and there were probably still dirty dishes in the sink.

One of the things I love most about being catholic is the Church's emphasis on quiet prayer and meditation.  I'm not a praise & worship kind of gal.  Certainly that has its place and works for some people.  But for me, I feel most at peace and most alive when I'm quiet and still.  Which, as you may have guessed, doesn't exactly jive when you have four kids under the age of six.

Every day it's a sacrifice to live out this vocation of mine.  To wake up and go, go, GO until I have nothing left.  To be needed and then depleted.  If I had to choose one word to describe the current state of my life it would be constant.  I am constantly "on."

And yet, as much as it is a sacrifice, I know it's where I'm supposed to be.  Because there's nothing more holy than sacrificial love.  Even if I might be complaining the whole way.  I'm still putting one foot in front of the other.

When I tell people I have four small kids they ask how I do it at home all day every day with little to no help.

I don't know how to answer that question.

What else should I be doing?

It's like asking somebody how they breathe.

When I was pregnant with Bobby and already holding a baby in my arms they would ask, what are you going to do?

Again, I didn't know how to respond to that without sounding sarcastic.

Because the answer was obvious.

I'm going to take care of my babies.

This life, it pushes me to brink of insanity.  If it didn't I probably wouldn't be doing it right.

And when I'm standing there at the Edge of Crazy ready to fall (or maybe jump), suddenly the sun will come out. And I will realize two of my kids are at camp and the other two are sleeping.  And I am given the gift of a moment to breathe and just be.

Because God knows.  He always knows.