There's One In Every Crowd

This one, my friends.   Oh, this one.

I love her, but still we have had some rough going over the last four months, she and I.

She has reached the age that tries to defeat me. 12 to about 19 months absolutely kills me.    It was the age that tried mightily to persuade me to make Francie an only child.  

This is the age when my children's vocabulary is not nearly matched to their language comprehension or their manual dexterity.   They want things they don't know how to name.  They can follow simple directions, but they can't manage to keep up with the big kids.  They know what they want, but they can't get it. 

This disparity causes frustration.  A LOT of frustration. 

Mopsy's got an independent streak a mile wide that is continually curbed by her need to be in constant contact with me at all times.  Not just in the same room, not just near me, I mean constant physical contact.  

She will follow me from room to room, crying and clutching at my leg.  But when I pick her up, she will cry to be put down and run.   If I am sitting and feeding the baby, she will insist on being on my lap at the same time.  Right next to me is not nearly good enough.     

It can be somewhat . . . draining.

I went to a party this weekend and I only had Fiver, Sally, and Bun with me.  All three are able to tell me what they need, and nine times out of ten they don't need my help at all.  I found myself sitting and not knowing what to do with my hands since I had no one in my arms.  It felt like a vacation, and I still had three children with me.

I don't like to live in the future or indulge in the "Once the kids are older . . . " thoughts very often.  I find that that kind of thinking blinds me to the joys of what the kids are doing right now.   But sometimes, in the thick of a harrowing day, I get a little glimpse of the future and I hang on to it.

Do parents of surly teenagers dream of exchanging them for a day with the snuggly babies they used to hold?   Do parents of newborns try to imagine the day when they won't be bleary-eyed and covered in spit up?  Do parents of toddlers  in mid-tantrum occasionally dream of walking around a store next to a chatty, chipper grade schooler?

I like to think so.  Actually, I really hope so, because then I won't be the only one who does.

There are joys and challenges of every age, and I know that, for better or worse, nothing lasts forever.  For every exhausting moment with my twelve year old or one year old or four month old, there is the ballast of the happy confident skip of the five year old and the eager, wide eyed observations of the three year old.

And when the one year old finally becomes the five year old, I'll cry that it all went too fast.  Remind me of that often, my friends.
   

7 Quick Takes

Lately I have been subscribing to the "If you can't say anything that doesn't induce a narcoleptic response, then don't say anything at all" rule.   That's how the old adage goes, right?

Who wants to hear how many ham and cheese sandwiches I made for lunch anyway? 

For the record, I made none.  Because my husband made them.  But I did helpfully yell out the lunch order from the living room for him.

With three of the six in school now  (brutally honest moment:  I originally typed three out of FIVE.  Sorry Baby, I hardly ever forget you anymore!), life is starting to settle down a little bit.   The school schedule gets superimposed on our home schedule and it actually works out better for me to have that outside influence for now.  It's a real temptation for me to let things slide around here when I have a little baby in the house.  I look around at a wasted morning and think "But I just had a baby!! I can't stick to a timeline!!"

Except that Bun, Mopsy, and Baby all do much better when I have some semblance of a schedule in the morning.  They can't be feral children forever.

The blogging has remained light.  I've lost my focus . . . or rather, my focus has been misplaced for a long while.  And the blog does not seem to fit tidily into what I need to be doing for my family right now.   I'm not closing shop, but I am trying to see if I can work it back in.

Until then, we always have Conversion Diary's Quick Takes! Huzzah!

One

I've been once again trying to lose my baby weight . . . from three babies ago.   This is such a tough struggle for me, because I have a personality that likes to fill myself up with whatever is easy or new or shiny and so on.   I am very much "of the world" that way.

Losing weight is not just about eating less and moving more, for me.  It is tantamount to a spiritual fight.  To a person who has never struggled with weight, I know that may sound absurd, but it's true. 

I have been blessed with overall wonderful pregnancies and happy, healthy deliveries.  If I can forget about weeks 4-13 (nausea!) and weeks 36-41 (enormity!!), then I can honestly say I enjoy everything about being pregnant.  

I know there are people who can't believe that, but we all have different crosses.  While they might be reveling through postpartum, I am just crawling along. 

Two

In a similar vein, I'm pretty sure I have a low functioning thyroid.  I have a lot of the symptoms of hypothyroidism and it practically gallops through my family, but every time I am checked out, the levels are not low enough for medication.

Which means that it takes me twice as much exercise to lose a stupidly small amount of weight.

What was I saying about crosses again?  Oh yeah.

Three

Have you ever gone somewhere, even somewhere fun with someone you really love, but you just couldn't seem to muster up a lot of excitement for the event?   And then you get there and it turned out to be the best time ever?   (or do I just have spectacularly low expectations of things?  I'm not sure . . .)

Well that happened to Rob and me when we went to the wedding of some friends up in the Pocono Mountains a few weekends ago.   It turned out to be one of the best dates we've had in a long time.

I didn't think it would be as much fun as it was, especially since I called my sister the day before the wedding and said, "So do you want to come over and help me shop for a dress for this thing or what?"   The excitement was palpable.

To her credit, my sister found me TWO great dresses that were on sale.  It is really so much easier to shop when you have no kids and a personal shopper at your beck and call. 

The wedding itself was a civil ceremony, outside in the mountains, and it was lovely, if just a little hippy-dippy.  When the officiant started invoking the spirit of love and of the earth, I could see Rob out of the corner of my eye and he was making the sign of the cross a few times in a row.   We got God in on the ceremony, too.

The reception was fantastic, and we had an even better time than I thought we might. 

Even though I didn't start out in the right frame of mind, I'm convinced that if you can't get on board with good friends, a delicious meal, a live band, dancing all night, and champagne, then you might be a robot. 

Scratch that, you might be dead.  Even robots like to party.

Four

The aforementioned wedding was for two people in Rob's Family Medicine residency program, so there were many people from his office in attendance.

The Monday after the wedding, one of the residents said to Rob, "Your wife is a lot of fun!" 

I had to laugh, because I don't really think of myself as fun.  I don't know if I ever have.  The words most people use to describe me are responsible, dependable, and stable.   It was nice to hear a different description for a change.  

Five

Bun's love of the Phillies keeps growing, and he is now teaching himself all the numbers of his favorite position players. 

When the checkout lady at the grocery store asked him how old he was, he replied:  "I am three!  Just like Hunter Pence is #3.  We match!"    Luckily, this is Phillies country and the checkout lady knew what he was talking about.

Six

A friend mentioned to me the other day that I have yet to pick a "permanent" blog name for Baby.  After all, she said with a chuckle, what happens when another baby comes along?

Two things jumped out at me about that:

1. I am now at the point where people just assume that another baby will be coming.  I'm okay with that because it saves me a lot of time when people don't ask  "Aren't you DONE yet?!"

2. Why haven't I given Baby a blog name?  I do think "Baby" is a sweet moniker, but I really think it's because I don't want to rush away her babyhood.  She's such a happy little doll of a baby, too.

Seven

There is no seventh take this week.  Rob's got a patient in labor so he won't be home until late, and the kids all have a little head cold.  I foresee an easy dinner and an early bedtime.  And the kids should probably hit the hay early, as well.


Enjoy the weekend, my friends!

{pretty, happy, funny, real}: the little girls edition

Joining up with the ladies at Like Mother, Like Daughter for my weekly pictorial . . .


Sometimes I feel badly for my little girls because it's relatively easy for them to get lost in the shuffle of a big family.   It doesn't happen with Rob or myself, thankfully, but many times the two little girls kind of blend into one "baby" persona for those outside of our family.  

I have lost count of the number of times I have heard something like . . . "oh, you know, the little one.  What's her name?" or  "Oh that's right! I forgot about Mopsy!" or  "Am I missing one of the little ones?  I just can't keep track of all your kids."

Luckily, keeping track of them is my job, and I obviously don't expect my circle of people to be as up-to-date on my children as I am.  Still . . . I just cringe a little inside when I hear people joke about them being all lumped together.  

I know I spend all day with them, but they are so incredibly different that I never lump them all together.  Call them by each other's name?  Heck yeah.  But forget about them as people?  Not once.

These little girls are where it's at.

{pretty, happy}

Mopsy is just a tiny little thing.  Her brother started calling her "Tiny E" (her real first initial) and the name has stuck,  but boy is she tough.  Once she has her mind set on something, watch out! Also, I know I am biased, but I think she's just about the prettiest little 17 month old I know. 

{funny, real}

This is Baby's elf ear.  The cartilage has been that way since birth, and it's only on her right ear.  I just love it.

{funny, happy}

Baby has been busy discovering her hands.  She loves to suck on her thumb to fall asleep, but when she is awake she loves to stare at her fist and wave it in front of her face.  I like to imagine what is going through her mind when she does that:  "If I had better gross motor control, I could run this place!"

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

So I've been known to blog here from time to time.   You would never guess that, though, from the way I've been posting lately.  Or not-posting, as the case may be.

I would love to write a long cleansing post about the rigors, both real and self-inflicted, of this long summer.  But now is not the time.  The words aren't ready and I am exhausted today.  Lots of wakeful children last night lead to a sleepy mommy. 

So instead I will get back in the saddle with the ladies at Like Mother, Like Daughter and a {pretty, happy, funny, real} treatment of the first day of school. 

The kids were supposed to start school on Monday, but thanks to an unwelcome guest named Irene, their opening day was pushed back to Tuesday.   I think I was more put out than the children, although Sally did cry when she found out that their first day was cancelled. 

But come Tuesday morning, they were all smiles and ready to go.

{funny, real}

This picture puts me in mind of "The Sound of Music" for some reason, even though there are only three of them here and they are not singing in beautiful harmony.  Maybe it's the way they are lined up.  It also reminds me that half of my children are now in school.  *sniff*

{pretty, happy}

Francie got her hair cut a few days before school, and we are both fans of the new 'do.  Her hair is so thick and heavy, and she is really not a "hair" girl.  I usually have to beg her to brush it thoroughly.  Now it is a breeze to wash and style.

{happy, real}

Speaking of hair, Fiver has some crazy hair of his own.  No matter the cut or the amount of combing, Fiver always manages to look like he just lifted his head off his pillow.  I don't know if he could possibly be more unconcerned about it.

{happy}

Sally can barely contain her excitement.  For a child who was adamantly opposed any kind of preschool program in favor of staying home with me, she has been chomping at the bit to start kindergarten.

{real}

Mopsy was not especially happy to watch her big kids walk out the door to school.  As much as the big kids need to adjust to a new school year, the little ones back at home are feeling the growing pains as well.