At Least I am Not Her

Lately, I feel like Leif, Harriet and I are the Three Muskateers. The situations we find ourselves in are ridiculous! Like the other day, I had to take the van in for an oil change. The three of us had already made four stops before this one and needless to say, the babies were squirrely. I decided to try out the new Mr. Lube by Costco since we had to stop there next after our oil change. I felt unsure as I pulled up because I did not see any cars outside of the garage. Then a man opened up the bay door and waved me in. As I pulled into the shop, I looked around and noticed there was nowhere for the babes and I to go, so I rolled down my window and asked the attendant:

Do we stay in the car?

Yes, you do.

Okay, now I am a bit melodramatic on the best of days, but I kid you not, I swear I heard the angels herald. I have never been so happy in all of my life. Then he asked if I would like something to drink and if Leif could have a balloon.

Yes and yes.

When he told me that I would also receive free windshield wipers, I nearly slapped a big wet kiss right on his lips!

What?!

So, there the three of us sat as happy as we could be; Harriet cooed away, while Leif bounced his balloon and I drank my water. I was so happy that I started texting my sister, Hilary, extolling the virtues of Mr. Lube to her. Occasionally, Leif would hit his balloon into the back seat so I would have to climb out of my seat and head to the back of the van to retrieve it, but it was all good because WE WERE STILL IN THE VAN! It was only until my oil change was coming to a close when I suddenly looked around and began to laugh. Here I was sitting in the loser cruiser, with its rusty bits and broken door handle, tossing a balloon around with my boy and loving every minute of it, while there on either side of me are two brand new sports car. Each of their owners, who were coiffed and appeared completely unaffected by the pampering service of their Mr. Lube attendant, stood in stark contrast to me. I love moments like this because they always make me laugh when I imagine what they must be thinking right now:

Thank heavens I am not that poor girl.

The other morning was even more foolish. The two-under-two-crew woke up and, as I was about to change their diapers, I remembered that I was supposed to wash their diapers the night before. EEEEEEEEK!

So, I threw on the clothes I wore the day before (to Mr. Lube no less) and packed the babies into their car seats with wet diapers and jammies on. Then we headed to Superstore where I saw they had their Pampers diapers on sale. While we were driving, Leif began to cry for a snack. It was only then that I realized that I had forgotten to pack any snacks and the poor baby did not have any breakfast. I assured him that I would buy him something to eat at the Superstore, but clearly this did not make any sense to him because he continued to cry. I can only imagine how the three of us looked as I pushed the cart around the Superstore. Again, I could almost hear people whisper under their breath, 

At least I am not her.

What people can't see is how ridiculously happy I am right now. I love spending my days with the two-under-two crew. I love hanging out with my big crew, and I love my Mr. Level-Headed! Sure, I am  that woman whose husband works away and who has been left alone with five kids, one of whom is sick (and yeah is still really sick so please pray for her); the woman people can use to their measure their own lives against to feel better about themselves, but that is okay. Yes, I have my moments, but that is all they are, moments. Deep down I am completely head over heels in love with my life and all of its ridiculousness, and that is worth far more than any sports car . . . I think.

. . . tee hee!

He really was hungry . . . eeeeek!

Baby School

At the beginning of the school year, I was feeling very envious of all my teacher friends and homeschool friends who were posting how excited they were for the upcoming school year and posting pictures of their classrooms on Facebook. I felt this nostalgic longing for packs of freshly sharpened pencils, cartons of crayons and stacks of Hilroy books. I remembered with fondness afternoons where I would sit at my desk and plan out the next day's activities or when I would stay up late at night organizing an activity for my own boys to complete the next day when we were homeschooling. I was really sad that I was not teaching this year. 

Can I just say that being human is absolutely ridiculous?! When I was teaching, I was envious of all my stay-at-home mom friends who were posting pics of their littles on Facebook . . . ugh! Can we ever truly just be happy with what we have and where we are at each moment? I think so, and I try really hard to do so, which is why moments after my melancholy hit, I looked at the two-under-two crew and enthusiastically decided that they would be my two newest pupils this year. And so, like all my fellow teachers, I hit the internet looking for ideas and activities, when what to my wondering eyes did appear but a link to a website selling Montessori curriculum for babies and toddlers . . . say what? It was like Christmas morning! I was giddy to get my hands on an actual curriculum for the two-under-two crew and impulsively threw those suckers into my virtual shopping cart. Within days they appeared at my doorstep and I have been happily perusing their pages ever since. We, teachers, are nerds . . . what can I say?

Now, baby school looks nothing like real school. There is no schedule and no tests to take. It is just me and my babes playing with a purpose; for instance, this week, Harriet is working on rolling over, so Leif and I place her on the floor on her belly and enthusiastically encourage her to lift that head up and move. This morning she earned a gold star because she actually rolled over, not once, not twice but every time we placed her on her belly. Yay, Harriet!  oh, and I am joking about the gold star . . . or am I?

After working on sorting teddy bears by colour last week, Leif has taken a real interest in colours. Yesterday while we were making some play dough and I asked what colour he wanted to make, he shocked me when he shouted out blue as he reached for the container of blue food colouring. Being a true-blue nerd . . . I admit that sometimes even I find myself to be a bit too much . . . I made an official declaration proclaiming this to be "Blue Week". We went on hunts for the colour blue, we played with blue play-doh, we are wearing all blue today and we sorted out the blue bugs from a colourful pile of plastic bugs. We are having a lot of fun with this and I think we might dedicate the next few weeks to a single colour.

I am particularly enjoying myself because these short snippets of our day are a nice break from all the laundry that needs to be folded, all the dishes that need to be washed, all the toilets that need to be scrubbed and so and so on. These moments are also special because I am able to enjoy myself with my babies. I am able to say yes more than I have to say no or in a minute, and I can laugh and smile along with them.

Hi! I am Harriet Webster and I am running for Prime Minister

There she goes . .  .

I really love being a teacher, especially to my own kiddos!

Late Night Thoughts

Last night as the big kids prepared for bed, Mr. Level-Headed and I sat on our bed watching the two-under-two crew play. What are those babies doing up so late? We were wondering the same thing. Leif was practicing jumping with two feet while Harriet was practicing blowing raspberries; I guess some things are more important than sleep. Mr. Level-Headed and I smiled as Leif bent down to kiss Harriet on the head after each jump and she returned his thoughtfulness with a grin and a coo.

This is the most challenging stage of my life so far. I am being stretched in more ways and in more directions than I would have ever thought possible. It's funny because when having more children was simply a dream of mine, I would envision them just joining us for the ride. I forgot that each baby brings with them their own purpose, their own unique set of needs and their own dreams, and that my role as their mom is to ensure that they are able to find their own path and have the tools they need to navigate it successfully when that time comes. These babies are not mine and all of THIS has nothing to do with me. THIS is for them, all five of them, and by being given the opportunity to raise these five amazing individuals, I have found my own path. Although I often feel like I am completely incapable of taking yet another step, I do and then I take another step. My entire life has prepared me for this moment. All those years I cared for and toted around my plastic baby, Laura, I was preparing to love and nurture my real babies. All those years I spent getting an education and eventually obtaining two degrees has helped me to teach, inspire and encourage my own children to do the same. And all those years I longed to hold more babies and all the pain and heartache I suffered trying to have them taught me how to truly appreciate my babies when they finally arrived. My life has taught me patience. It has taught me perseverance and it has shown me that I can do hard things. No matter how difficult my days of being a mama of five are, I know I can do it. I was made for these days, and I am going to cherish every moment of them. 

So, when Mr. Level-Headed looked up at me, smiled and commented:

These two are going to be so close.

Even though I was very tired and wanted nothing more than for this day to finally be done, I smiled back:

Yes, they are, and that is why we are doing this.

I love you, two-under-two crew!

The Big Three . . .

Yesterday summed up perfectly what I find to be the hardest three things about this particular phase of mamahood that I am currently immersed in. It was a beautiful fall day, and Zoe had an appointment to get her Remicade infusion in town right after lunch. Since her appointment typically takes 2 1/2 hours, I decided to take the two-under-two crew to Rockwood Park while we waited for her to finish up. Like I said, it was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining and there was a gentle cool breeze blowing that made it the perfect temperature for jeans and a t-shirt. We had the entire park to ourselves, but unfortunately, thanks to Leif's recent aversion to a full night's sleep, I was exhausted. Rather than run and play alongside Leif on the climbing structure like I typically do, I sat on a nearby bench with Harriet on my knee, encouraging him from afar.

Good job, Bud. Now go down the slide.

As any parent will tell you, this does not work well, and Leif quickly became bored. Can you blame him, though? It really isn't fun playing by yourself. Thanks to boredom, Leif did not stay in one place for long and so we spent the majority of our time at the park meandering back and forth between the lake and the playground.

I really hate being tired and this is one of the hardest parts of being a mama right now for me. I become very cranky and impatient when I am tired and neither of these qualities are conducive to handling an equally tired toddler whose tantrums increase in duration, intensity and frequency with each hour of sleep he misses. Let's just say that Leif and I were not the best of friends yesterday, and those days make me sad. I know what kind of mom I can be, and I really like her, but on very little sleep, it is like I can see that mom drifting out to sea and as hard as I try, I cannot reach her to bring her back.

Ugh . . .

Leif has not been sleeping well for the past two weeks. He wakes up numerous times at night and then is waking up for an hour or so at 4am and falling back to sleep just as my alarm goes off. Then, because he is in a state of over-tiredness, he is not napping well either - 30 minutes tops. We are both about to lose our mind. I suspect this inability to sleep is thanks to the abundance of words he is all of a sudden able to say. With my older three kids, monumental milestones always accompanied an inability to sleep. I think it has something to do with the flurry of activity that is going on in their little brains at that time.

But I also think that this sudden disruption in sleep could have something to do with our lack of routine. Since school has started, as hard as I try to stick to nap times and daily routines, it has not been working because every day brings a new schedule. With five kids, someone always has one appointment or another - doctor's, dentist's, physio, etc. Throw three different school soccer schedules in the mix and we find ourselves running this way and that most days. I suspect all of this disruption has really thrown Leif's system out of whack, and this brings me to the second hardest aspect of my current state of mamahood - a lack of routine. With five kids ranging from infant to teenagers, our life is busy, crazy busy and I am really struggling trying to establish a routine.

Anyhoo . . . 

Back to the park. Growing tired of chasing Leif back and forth for an hour and a half, I plopped him and Harriet into their double stroller and we went for a walk. After his initial fuss over being restrained, Leif quickly settled into his seat and began to enjoy the sights of our walk.

Wuz zhat? Wuz zhat?

Then my phone buzzed. I looked down to see that Baby Girl had texted me. My heart leapt . . . woohoo! She is done.  Then my heart broke as I read the next three words.

It happened again.

I knew exactly what she was talking about; two infusions ago, Zoe had a reaction to her Remicade, which caused her airway to swell and made it difficult for her to breathe. This is one of the many, and probably least scary, side effects of Remicade . . . Ugh. For the record, I HATE colitis and I hate the fact that I have to give my big, Baby Girl this drug, but after dealing with this disease for almost four years now and having nothing else work, this is what we have to do.

Can you come. I am pretty shaken up.

I picked up my pace and quickly returned to the van with the two-under-two crew. Leif, who was soaking wet from wading in the lake, needed to be changed but I did not want to waste any time. I whipped his pants and shoes off, strapped him and Harriet into their seats and drove off. My heart was racing. I was so mad at myself for not being there . . . again . . . for Zoe during this scary experience. Yes, I also missed the first reaction . . . ugh.  

We pulled into the parking lot. I stopped the car, and jumped out. I quickly found Leif's change of pants and slipped them on. Since his sneakers were too wet to put back on, I placed him on my hip and put Harriet on the other and then ran inside, where I was greeted by the nurse.

She is sleeping right now. We gave her more Benadryl. We have restarted the IV and she seems to be okay. Since we had to stop and restart it at a much slower pace, she will not be done for another two hours. We will text you when she is ready to be picked up.

I stood there looking in on Zoe who was peacefully sleeping under the fleece red blanket I had made her two years ago. Looking at the two babies on my hips and seeing how many patients were currently hooked up to IV's in the tiny, cramped clinic, I felt completely helpless. I knew I couldn't stay, but I really did not want to leave her side. Her nurse must have read my mind:

She is going to be okay, Krista. When she wakes up, I will tell her that you stopped in.

Thank you.

With my babies in tow, I turned around and walked back to the car, much slower this time. I felt like all the life had just been deflated from my body.  No matter how hard I try, I consistently let one of my kids down. By attending the older kids' soccer games and appointments, I have disrupted Leif's sleep schedule. Because I have two babies to care for, I can no longer sit with Zoe during her appointments. Because I am not getting much sleep, I am not as patient as I once was while doing homework or as fun on the playground. . . and so on and so on. I think not being able to attend to all of my kids' needs is definitely the hardest and most frustrating part of being a mama of five.

I could have really beaten myself up, but I chose not to. Instead, I headed to my mom's house where Coca Cola flows on tap and where there is never a short supply of arms or laps to hold and entertain two babies under two.

By 7:30pm we had all returned home. As I stood at the island, putting the day's dishes in the dishwasher, I looked around at my family:  Mr. Level-Headed was discussing Elliot's soccer game against Rothesay High School with him, which they tied . . . woohoo!, Leif and Avery were in the middle of an intense game of tag, and Zoe was snuggling with Harriet, who has recently found her voice and currently spends most of her days telling us off . . . er, I mean . . . telling us stories. I couldn't help but smile at all of them. They are all mine. I may be doing a craptastic job at this mama of five gig, but I am trying my best, and I think that my sincere love for each of them and my desire to be the best mom I can be will shorten the gap between the mama I know I can be and the mama I actually am. I hope.

Elliot #20, rushing the goalie. Thanks Monique for the pic!

Baby Brain

We have all heard of baby brain, and most people believe that women who suffer from this are dealing with slower than normal brain function; however, since I am currently suffering from baby brain myself, I have realized that this is not the case. In fact, I believe that all the carelessness and forgetfulness we attribute to baby brain is due to the fact that our brain function is currently in overdrive. A mama's brain is keenly aware of all that is going on around her and especially what is going on around her baby or babies, as in my case. She is scanning her surroundings for potential danger and she is ready to react in what ever way that is required of her within a millisecond. Being in this reactive state all the time is exhausting. Throw in weeks of disrupted sleep on top of it and you have the new mama fog, the state of  feeling separated from the real world and being utterly encompassed within the babysphere, a universe centered upon the most basic of human needs: love, nourishment and excrement.

This is where I have been the past 8 weeks, so please forgive me if I do not speak in coherent sentences, if I appear to not be following your conversation, or if I appear disheveled and confused. The sole purpose of my existence is currently wrapped up in making sure that Miss Harriet knows she is surrounded by people who love her, that she chubs up to the point where her rolls have rolls on them, and that she is not lying in her own waste, WHILE keeping Leif (aka the Toddler) actively engaged in order to prevent mass devastation to our abode and serious injury to the currently defenseless Miss Harriet. So, I ask you: could any of this be accomplished on limited brain function? I think not!

In order to maintain the PG-rating of Shenanigans Inc., my insane breastfeeding cleavage has been edited out. You're welcome!

They are totally worth a heavy dose of baby brain  . . .