Welcome to life
/On November 18th we welcomed our little Josephine to the family.
Fifth kid.
In the process of trying to portray my current thoughts on parenthood, I want to be clear that I don't mean for it to seem as though it's been less than what we wanted. Just different than what we planned. Five kids has slapped me in the face. Hard. Life right now is a lot like riding a bike with one leg. It's familiar, it's possible, but it's hard! And you fall a lot. (It also looks ridiculous sometimes!) It’s sweet and bitter and awful and perfect all at once. That's parenthood folks. It's waking up to a punch in the face and a hug. It's drinking a refreshing glass of water with a little bit of spit in it, because parenthood is also gross, so you're welcome.
There will be a day when I miss this day. I know I'll miss it. This time in our lives when our babies are small and squishy and slobbery and sticky and full of cuddles and kisses and they're easy to shop for. I'll miss it I know. I’ll miss their willingness to forgive my shortcomings the most, and that’s the truth. But sometimes I want to miss it. Sometimes I want to not be buried in it. Sometimes I want to shower without a procession of small versions of Jesse and I coming in to ask, complain, sing, cry, fight, tell stories and tattle. Sometimes I want to sit down to eat without having my meal picked at, or get gross because it took me too long from the time I prepared it, to the time I sat down to eat it. Sometimes I want to go to the bathroom without seeing little fingers reaching under the door or little hands knocking because someone has a question or needs something the literal moment I get in there! Sometimes I want my boogers to be the only ones I'm dealing with. Seriously.
I cherish these days. I really do! (I do, I do, I do, I do!) I cherish the moment my two year old comes up to me (on a day that feels particularly difficult I might add- as though she sensed it) and says "You da bess Mom. You da bess.” I cherish the moment when my daughter is crumpled in my arms sobbing because great grandpa died. I don't love a moment like that, but I cherish it. I cherish the way she runs through all of the things she’s going to miss about him, because those memories were sweet to her, so they are sweet to me. I cherish the notes and drawings I wake up to from my budding artist. (So many drawings!) I cherish the time with my only son, watching a movie about a giant who drinks something that makes the him fart, because it makes my son laugh. Genuinely. A lot! I Cherish the moment my slimy naked baby is laid on my chest as she screams, because it never really felt real until the moment I held her. Because no matter how many times I do it, it's always a little magical. (Until the pain meds wear off) But, you can cherish those moments (all the moments) and still look a little forward to missing them. I know you can, because I’m doing it now.
I have to wonder how I got so lucky and simultaneously wonder where I went wrong. And then I go to sleep and I wake up and do it all over again. I won’t win any awards for it. Monuments will not be built for me. And there is surely no chance I’m winding up with the Mother Theresa's of the world. I’ll beat my head against the wall a few times, weigh the risks of selling the kids, decide it’s not worth the prison time and start again. I’ll count to ten and take a breath and then kiss them goodnight. I’ll yell I love you too! (because if you’ve never had to scream the words “I Love You”, then you don’t have kids who never went to bed when you asked them to.) And if you’ve never had kids, but you have had needles poked in your eyes or your finger nails removed, then you’ve already had a little taste of what it’s like! Of course, if you never have your own, you’ll miss out on the most fulfilling form of love you’ll ever know, but you wont be cleaning someone else’s poop, so you’ll have to weigh the pro’s and con’s of that one out for yourself. Good luck!
If you do decide to do it though and then realize one morning that maybe you're going a little crazy because all your brain cells died with the birth of your children, just know you aren't alone. I’ll be your friend, dummy! And someday when our cute little booger eating, slobber kissing, dirt covered offspring are grown, we’ll laugh and point at all the younger parents who think we’re crazy because one day, they’ll be where we are, and we’ll be sitting comfortably in our straight jackets missing those days.