A Glimpse

Several months ago, a friend of mine, who already has three kids herself, asked me what life was like with four. I have yet to find the time to reply to her question. So, in honor of her question, I'm offering a glimpse of my life with four, during these "first days", the craziest time of my year.

Most of the time life with four is good. Our days are orderly. We arrive places on time. The house is fairly clean. The dishes are done. Dinner's on the table each night, and includes at least one vegetable. The laundry's put away. The mail is answered; the messages returned. But, then there are the dark days. The days I don't (usually) write about. These are the days when the laundry has piled up so high that it overflows into the hallway. The kids have gone days without baths. The breakfast dishes (and sometimes the milk) are still on the table at dinner time. Dinner consists of something hastily defrosted from the freezer, served lukewarm, each item on the plate a different shade of tan. The keys get left in the door (sometimes the mailman is kind enough to ring the buzzer to tell me.) There's pee, poop, toothpaste, or all three on the carpet at some point during the day. The library calls to tell me I have $10 in late fines. Everything is lost in the mess. I'm exhausted and grouchy. I drink caffeine to stay awake, and eat meals of peanut butter spoonfuls chased with chocolate chips. I lose my patience with the kids. I vent my frustrations on Ted.

We arrived home from our vacation on Labor Day. Just in time for "first days", what the director of the boys' pre-school affectionately calls the beginning of each school year. These are those introductory days at every school -- the half days, the days when parents are supposed to stay and hang out in the classroom, the days when your child's grade hasn't started yet. The days that count as school days to everyone except the parent who is waiting for the REAL school days to start. This is my busiest time of year. With kids in multiple schools (and one kid still on a waiting list for school this year,) I race around from drop off, to pick up, to open house, to the school supply store, breastfeed the baby and squeeze in a diaper change and nap between aforementioned stops. I rarely make it home between the first drop off and time to make the dinner. While the boys are home with me all summer, I put many thing on hold. I make a promise to myself that I will have time again once school starts. And I will. But the beginning of school has a deceptive lure. It's not until long after school starts that I find that time again.

These busy days, I am caught living moment to moment. As I come and go, I walk by our only partly unpacked suitcases. I dare not hope to accomplish something each day. I cannot find the few moments of mental peace needed to formulate a to-do list. I know that I will only be able to do the urgent things that come up -- the boo-boo's that need doctoring, the lunch to be packed, the form that must be returned to school today, the food we need for tonight's dinner.

This morning I picked up my toothbrush and put toothpaste on it. Then, someone needed my attention right away. I put the toothbrush down on the counter. I didn't see it, or think about it, again until I was headed out to parents' night tonight. Oh well.

The general tone of our family life is still upbeat, even in these busy times. But, I do sometimes feel like a hamster on the wheel. Or, to be more accurate, I feel like I'm swimming in a beautiful pool of deep water. I love being in the water, but the pool is so deep that I can't reach the bottom. I have to swim constantly to stay afloat. At some point, long after dark, someone tosses me a soft, comfortable raft. I climb up onto it and rest, falling instantly to sleep. Sometime early the next morning, while still deep in slumber, the raft is yanked out from under me, to the tune of someone crying. I start swimming again...