Life 2018

Well, what started as a way to document our milestones, slowly trickled down to birthday posts... and ultimately zero posts -- which couldn't be farther from our current state of things. Life pulls all five of us in multiple directions hourly and to say we rarely come up for air is an understatement.

What shocks me most about motherhood at the moment is the lack of preparation you have for the logistical battle of having three children 5 years and older...

This Christmas we are coming up for air. We are going to spend intentional, slowed-down time with our children. Evans and I were brainstorming how we could accomplish such a drastic feat in the midst of nonstop activities, commitments, and fun. Recently, Jeanie started reading this blog to learn more about her (even) younger years. I thought of how regimented I used to be with my writing-- constantly reflecting and observing our children and myself. Being able to write these posts was a blessing. A blessing of time and productivity. Reading these posts has become a treasure for our family. We can remember special times we wouldn't have if I hadn't documented them.

Even though our milestones aren't quite as defined as "walking for the first time!" or "the first word was..." they are still worth remembering and I'd like to continue (or try at least try) to keep track of funny comments, realizations, and life events. Lately I've been reflecting about how far we have come as parents... our parenting journey so far. It has been a decade since we found out Van was on the way...and what a decade it has been.

When I knew I was pregnant with Van, I had 9 months (actually 8 since he arrived early) but still... plenty of time to prepare for the dramatic life change of having a child. I soaked up every bit of advice...read every best-selling parenting book... washed (and ironed) every piece of clothing that had been gifted or passed down. I did this with a fractured foot simultaneously pursuing a Masters Degree in Literature (instead of law, I was advised by a wonderful female mentor to steer clear of law school debt if I ever wanted children).  Van made his way into the world 5 weeks early, which is fitting for his "old soul" personality. His two weeks in the NICU undoubtedly secured my steadfastness as a mother. Thankfully, he tripled his weight in 6 weeks. Honestly, my only thoughts were: his existence, his health, and his well-being. (And making sure every second of his life was somehow chronicled.)

I considered stopping with one child. But we finally had some confidence that Van was going to be okay. He was a healthy 2.5 year old-- he was tested for every premature condition you can imagine. His lung capacity and weight were up to normal... he was making progress in occupational therapy for fine motor skills and hand-eye coordination. Watching his weekly progress, I started to realize he needed a sibling. Someone like my sister. He needed someone he could eventually discuss the inequalities of life... ponder how his mother and father had shaped his life... share the unshakable benefits of siblings.

When I knew Jeanie was on her way, I had every test to ensure there were no pre-disposed conditions for her to arrive early. I was happily teaching freshman English at Peace College and serving as an advisor. We felt like we were beyond ready for our little girl. And we were. When Jeanie arrived, we were enamored. A healthy, rosy-cheeked, black haired little girl. Evans said "she is perfect, so beautiful" and I had never imagined I would be capable of a 'normal' delivery and having a healthy newborn. I had sworn off breastfeeding after an excruciating 6 months with Van. However, breastfeeding happened so smoothly this time around, I nursed for a year. Evans was so relieved to have a healthy daughter, and so proud of our little girl...we were at peace.

 Our life was made. Almost.

When Abe was born, I thought our life would reach a climax of chaos.  I knew the baby days would be rough yet fleeting so I jumped in 100%, made huge sacrifices, and gave motherhood my all. After all, things would surely calm down once the kids were in school, right? I'd go back to my short-lived teaching career and life would ensue. We'd have three children, a happy, loving family... a white cape cod home with a picket fence, a robust travel itinerary... and simultaneously manage two extremely accomplished careers, no doubt... the life...a stressful but full life.  As ridiculous and immature as it sounds, I honestly thought the hardest part of having three children would be in the early days.

Abe is five years old. Jeanie is six. Van is nine.

Sometimes I have to repeat this multiple times and still don't believe it.

Let me start with the positive. Our children don't need diapers, bottles, or carseats. What they need is not so easily put into words or actions.

Van is almost as big as me. He likes historical nonfiction. He can put away is own laundry once its folded. He has the moral compass of a saint and sometimes likes to help out. What he needs from me? He needs me to remind him to put on socks in the morning. To brush his teeth, put his pj's in the dirty clothes bin. To sit with him and snuggle for a moment in the morning to discuss something he cannot quite grasp. To help him tie his shoes. To remind him to fill his water bottle. To put two snacks in his backpack. To be there during his lunch period. To help with the occasional class event. Homework is a new ballgame. An after school snack. To help practice after school activities. To serve at church. To read  to his siblings. To be nice to his siblings. Brush teeth again. Tell us about school. Please talk to us about your friends. Whats going on?

Jeanie is vibrant. She is active, helpful, and our biggest sunshine.  She will not venture into academic territory until she knows the ropes. Once comfortable, she learns quickly. What we hear from her teachers: "Jeanie is a social butterfly." She is so funny and makes us smile daily. But what I observe is a deep-rooted insecurity to make everyone around her happy. She immediately wants to please people however she possibly can. This is a welcome and unwelcome cry from Van. I admire her empathy but regret her desire to please. I worry its an inherent female trait. I have worked hard to absorb any confidence-building techniques I've learned from other moms: go on walks with your daughters, reinforce their greatness intellectually, remind her how important she is.  She reminds us daily how tough her "nuts" are...

Abe. He threw us for a loop the day he was born. This screaming red-haired, boy. What the heck? Thats been my mantra for our third: "What the heck?" ...Until now. Abe is undeniable. You cannot loop him into "the third kid" category (as much as we'd like to try). He's amazing. He is meant to be. He's observant, particular, and our hardest lover. Nothing gets passed Abe. You cannot hide anything from him. He hasn't taken a nap since six months old (whether or not this is a result of being a 3rd kid or just Abe is undetermined). As soon as we hear a cry between Abe and Van...we blame Van. (Sorry, bud...you've got 50 pounds on him...although Abe does bite in defense). When I get dressed for church Abe says: "Mom... you are SO beautiful." It works every time. I joke him that he will have a million girlfriends and he says: "Nope. Just you, mom." Holy moly. Our little love bug.

If independently they are a handful,  together our kids are at best- a tornado. Don't get me wrong, I think this is completely normal, while we understand the typical roadblocks of newborns and toddlers, the parents' perspective of raising elementary and middle school aged children seems largely ignored. Having little newborns is hard. But so is having children. There's no magic moment of "now we know how to parent everything." Maybe being a parent is just as transformative as being an individual.