Monday, March 21, 2011

Some Sundays

Sundays are a mixed bag for me. I love being able to change up the pace a bit, and not spend half my day in the car. We usually get some pretty good family time in, and of course, I love the idea of going to church and learning and being uplifted. Currently, and for some time now, that is only an idea. We begin church at 9am this year, and it is not agreeing with us. Church is generally one big noisy, frustrating wrestling match that is mostly a blur to me when I look back on it. Since I can't say Sunday is all about being spiritually fed these days, I have to just catch the moments that happen because it's Sunday and different from the other days in the week.

This last Sunday, those moments included:

Noah repeatedly putting his hands out and shaking his head, saying, "And he's like, where's Jesus?" all through Sacrament meeting.

While the bread and water were being passed, Noah tried with all his might to feed both to Steve (in his Blue's Clues book). We figure that's better than when he used to pray in the name of Steve.

After living here 11 and a half months, being asked to introduce myself to the class in Sunday School. Seriously? I included this one because I might find it funny at some point.

Marley constantly checking on the old lady behind us who was "thleeping". She actually seemed relieved when the lady finally stayed awake for a while.

Being told by the lady that does music in Primary that my Duncan is "just enchanting" and "so fun".

Playing a game with the kids that ended with everyone laughing and no one crying.

During a nice long dinner time talk about lots of things including what to name the new baby, Duncan completely flipping out on the family when names were being suggested other than the one he likes. Screaming, "Will you guys stop it with this first name and middle name and last name???? Will you just stop it already?????". I think he figures he didn't get the gender he ordered, so he's getting his name choice, period.

Noah told everyone he loved them, by name, at bedtime. Okay, so I can't say for sure that this one happened because it was Sunday, but I do think Noah picks up on a good day, good family time and love in the air, and that seems a lot more likely for us on a Sunday.

These are the things that keep me sane on Sundays. There are many that are just ridiculously hard from start to finish, and I wonder if there's any point to it all. I think for now the point might be noticing and having gratitude for the moments. You know, in between the screaming, floods, fights, complaining... aaaah, Sunday.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Stretched

Physically, yes, there is stretching happening. I feel like I look about 11 months pregnant right now, and I've still got a long way to go.

I don't have tiny babies. With Marley, I only gained 19 lbs, and she was 9lbs 3oz of that. I am not a large person, so babies have no choice but to grow outward, there is no stretching out lengthwise for my kids. Plus, you know, after a certain point (ie baby number 4 or 5), your muscles hang on for a while there, and then they're just like, Meh, forget it. That would explain why within about a week I went from being able to suck it in, to well, not.

With pregnancy I get a gimp hip that sometimes hurts so much it stops me in my tracks, leaving me unable to stand without support, and carpal tunnel that makes it really hard to do anything that requires a bit of a grip, like cutting with scissors, doing my hair or make-up, using a knife in food preparation, writing, etc. It's a trade-off that I'm happy to make considering I get an entire baby at the end of this thing, it just makes things a bit more challenging than usual right now. Which leads me to the other reasons I'm stretching and feeling some growing pains.

We've lived in this house for 11 months now, and still don't feel at home here. We love the house, we just don't have friends nearby which we have always had our whole married life. The kids have always had friends right outside the front door too. Not here. Noah is getting bigger and that's creating new challenges all the time. Jeremy's schedule is anything but regular, though he's working on several things at any given time. We are far away from family. That part is tough for me.

Our life is just not normal or in any way predictable and I'm realizing that's the way it's going to stay. So while part of me wonders how on earth we're going to manage with one more child, the other part of me is thinking, heck, let's adopt a couple more. We're already a zoo, we already have limitations on what we can do and where we can go, we already have to divide and conquer at church and everywhere else, we already have a necessary lack of spontaneity as a family, so what else are we doing? This. This is what we're doing. We hit crazy a long time ago, and you don't get more crazy. You're crazy. We're there.

I used to ask my mom with each pregnancy, "How do you go from one to two? (Or two to three?) We can barely manage where we are!". And she would wisely tell me that your abilities stretch and grow as your family does. It just happens. I haven't asked those questions in these last two pregnancies, because I've seen what she said work in my own life.

The other thing that's changing in me is the tendency to regret what we're missing due to our unusual life. There's no need for it. All I want is a happy family, to know that I'm following the path God would have me follow and doing the things He'd have me do, to be a good person, and beyond that? Just details and bonuses. And then, guess what? I'm not missing anything. I'm living precisely the life that I "should" have. Is it perfect? Far from it. There's still noise and impatience and tears and trial... but again it's that trade-off thing. I'll take the mess and chaos if it means having and associating with my amazing children. I will grow into being a mother of five. I'll be stretched beyond paper thin at times, but I'll have this family. Where much is given much is required. But much, much more is given.

Friday, March 4, 2011

For the Love of Pete (And Other Baby Boys)

To the designers of baby boy clothes,

I do not want my baby boy wearing dump trucks, tractors, tow trucks, cement trucks, footballs, baseballs, dinosaurs, airplanes, rocket ships, bears dressed in fishing gear, bears dressed in jammies, cars, trains, jungle animals, anything indicating his future brattiness or troublemaking, anything stating how good looking either of his parents might be, dogs or motorcycles. And don't even get me started on tv/movie characters. Make a note of it. And stop it.

Sincerely,
A mom of (nearly) 4 boys who can't take it anymore. Seriously.