Yesterday I'm laying on a table in PT with heat on my back when that little song begins to play over the speakers. Upon hearing such a sound anyone who has spent any time in the hospital knows a sweet little life has entered the world.
Up until now that sound was so sweet and full of promise. Granted, it still is...I'm just sad because no longer will I be found on the opposite end. Go ahead, gasp, you know you want to.
Why on earth would a busy mother of 4 desire any more children knowing full well she has her hands full? Just to clarify, I'm content with my 4. It's just sad to think that I will never again touch my belly noticing the sweet movements within that indicate a miracle is approaching.
I know I'm privileged. I've had 3 healthy pregnancies. Each may have provided a couple of hiccups that allowed for discomfort but all my children were healthy beautiful babies and momma was in the hands of skilled professionals. All was well in baby land.
When I gave birth to my first son I knew immediately that I would want to try for one more. While also knowing before I gave birth to Conor that he would be my last. At the time I didn't think much of that decision other than it was the right decision for my family and I. I wasn't prepared for the emptiness that has followed.
Upon getting married I was pregnant before the year was out with twins no less. Since that moment I have been more mother than anything else. Each day began with children and usually ended as such. For the past 7 years I have either been pregnant or caring for children as my main profession.
Conor however seems to be on a mission to remind me that my baby days are numbered and sooner rather than later I will be in need of other day to day activities. I'm trying very hard to hold on to every moment with Conor, but with every moment I'm also reminded that this too shall pass.
And while I know that growth and change are good for my kids I would gladly freeze time to squeeze just a couple extra years at the current stages. The thought of the girls becoming teenagers, the thought of Michael becoming a child rather than my toddler, the thought of Conor continuing his quest for movement seems to be bringing more and more tears to my eyes.
There is a parenting philosophy that shares that at the end of parenting it isn't only the child that is transformed but the parent as well. So onward I travel since I have no other choice. I guess the saying is true,
"It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't".
Friday, October 2, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
whirlwind of 4
So much seems to be happening in my household. With 4 little ones running around someone is always needing something or needing to go somewhere. There is barely enough time to shower and brush my teeth on a daily basis.
Currently, the girls are extra busy with soccer and school. Reading has become much easier for Ireland while Erin continues to excel. Soccer is a hit or miss as far as how excited the girls are to play.
Ireland seems to have a natural talent for it but too often seems to be unprepared for the physical contact. Granted I suppose she does have some reason to complain as with each practice she seems to take a ball from midfield to the abdomen. That combined with a boy who seems to think that pushing and shoving girls to the ground is fun I can see how some days she would rather cry than deal.
Erin tries with soccer but would much rather be elsewhere. She wants to try tennis but I think we might have to wait a while on that one. I'm caught between being the supportive mom who lets them explore and keeping my sanity through simplifying the schedule as much as possible.
Michael continues to make us all smile while pulling at our heartstrings. He is still adjusting to daycare as drop offs in the morning are full of tears and pleas. Usually I leave him crying as I begin to cry myself. I know he has fun once I've left but leaving him is so difficult.
And Conor....oh Conor. My baby, what am I going to do with you? The moment he was placed in my arms he seemed to already know what he wanted. He seems the be the happiest and most well adjusted of us all. He also seems to be on a mission to prove he isn't just the "baby".
Tomorrow he will be a mere 6 months old and already he is crawling, sitting up, and attempting to pull himself up. I so wanted him to stay small.
Knowing he would be my last I wanted to bottle as much "baby" time as I could. Soak it in and make memories that would help me make it through the coming years.
Once again I'm reminded that my children are only mine for a short while and have their own lives to live. Time will not slow just because I desire more baby moments or sanity. I have a job to do, and raise these kids I shall do...but I can't guarantee I won't have lots of fun along the way.
Currently, the girls are extra busy with soccer and school. Reading has become much easier for Ireland while Erin continues to excel. Soccer is a hit or miss as far as how excited the girls are to play.
Ireland seems to have a natural talent for it but too often seems to be unprepared for the physical contact. Granted I suppose she does have some reason to complain as with each practice she seems to take a ball from midfield to the abdomen. That combined with a boy who seems to think that pushing and shoving girls to the ground is fun I can see how some days she would rather cry than deal.
Erin tries with soccer but would much rather be elsewhere. She wants to try tennis but I think we might have to wait a while on that one. I'm caught between being the supportive mom who lets them explore and keeping my sanity through simplifying the schedule as much as possible.
Michael continues to make us all smile while pulling at our heartstrings. He is still adjusting to daycare as drop offs in the morning are full of tears and pleas. Usually I leave him crying as I begin to cry myself. I know he has fun once I've left but leaving him is so difficult.
And Conor....oh Conor. My baby, what am I going to do with you? The moment he was placed in my arms he seemed to already know what he wanted. He seems the be the happiest and most well adjusted of us all. He also seems to be on a mission to prove he isn't just the "baby".
Tomorrow he will be a mere 6 months old and already he is crawling, sitting up, and attempting to pull himself up. I so wanted him to stay small.
Knowing he would be my last I wanted to bottle as much "baby" time as I could. Soak it in and make memories that would help me make it through the coming years.
Once again I'm reminded that my children are only mine for a short while and have their own lives to live. Time will not slow just because I desire more baby moments or sanity. I have a job to do, and raise these kids I shall do...but I can't guarantee I won't have lots of fun along the way.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
saying goodbye is never easy
Today was a very sad day for me and since I don't really know what else to do I'm taking the time to write because in the past that is what I've done. It's how I deal I guess.
I venture to say that everyone has at least one teacher that they can say changed their life. Helped them see their potential or simply saw them as more than just another student. Somehow they touched your life and you look back fondly on them.
I'm very lucky. Right off the bat I can think of 4 teachers that do and have meant a great deal to me. They each have allowed me to become a better person and I am very grateful.
Today however I had to say goodbye to one of them. This one in particular was a large reason I survived the latter part of my childhood. She seemed to see something in me that I was yet to see. She pushed me in my studies, found ways to include and encourage me when she knew I was having difficulty, and seemed to never question bringing me into her home to comfort and guide me when I needed it most.
Even as I type I find it very difficult to put into words what she meant/means to me. I just know that the world seems to have lost some of its glimmer and hope now that she is gone.
With her passing I am filled with regret. The last time I physically saw her was the day of my wedding. We occasionally wrote a letter filling the other in on the lives we lived and sending a picture or two but we more or less lost touch.
When I first heard she had cancer I knew I wanted to go and see her I just didn't realize how little time I had to do so. I let the opportunities slip through my fingers and am now left hoping she knew how I felt and what she meant to me. I feel as if I've let us both down, she deserved better from me and I didn't come through.
I found myself watching her daughter today. A mere 7 years old not able to understand all she has lost. I remember holding this girl in my arms when she was weeks old. Joni and I spoke of marriage, children, religion as I held this sweet tiny baby. Joni continuing to guide while allowing plenty of room for my own thoughts and decisions.
I shed tears for the mother this child no longer has, the events she will go through knowing her mom should be there with her. I do however take comfort in that no one could love her anymore than her dad and how amazingly wonderful her life will be because he is in it.
I also shed tears for the son she leaves behind. This boy I've thought of as a little brother has grown into a wonderful man with a wife and life all his own. I always knew he would do wonderful things with his life and let me just say he does not disappoint.
I had held it together through the service rather well until after all was done and we all turned to leave this boy no more leaned down to give me a hug and we both just fell into weeping. I know his shoulders are heavy now with a sister who will need him more than ever and the void left from no longer having his mom around.
It's just all very sad and the tears fall so freely now that they have become expected, accepted. So with a sad and heavy heart I say:
Thank you Joni, for everything. It meant more than you would ever know or I could express. Thanks for the car rides, the attitude adjustments, the words of encouragement, the reality checks, the hugs, the gentle pushes in the right direction, the feeling that you were always in my corner and willing to show up...and for the shower, band-aids, clothes, and motherly love that night.
I venture to say that everyone has at least one teacher that they can say changed their life. Helped them see their potential or simply saw them as more than just another student. Somehow they touched your life and you look back fondly on them.
I'm very lucky. Right off the bat I can think of 4 teachers that do and have meant a great deal to me. They each have allowed me to become a better person and I am very grateful.
Today however I had to say goodbye to one of them. This one in particular was a large reason I survived the latter part of my childhood. She seemed to see something in me that I was yet to see. She pushed me in my studies, found ways to include and encourage me when she knew I was having difficulty, and seemed to never question bringing me into her home to comfort and guide me when I needed it most.
Even as I type I find it very difficult to put into words what she meant/means to me. I just know that the world seems to have lost some of its glimmer and hope now that she is gone.
With her passing I am filled with regret. The last time I physically saw her was the day of my wedding. We occasionally wrote a letter filling the other in on the lives we lived and sending a picture or two but we more or less lost touch.
When I first heard she had cancer I knew I wanted to go and see her I just didn't realize how little time I had to do so. I let the opportunities slip through my fingers and am now left hoping she knew how I felt and what she meant to me. I feel as if I've let us both down, she deserved better from me and I didn't come through.
I found myself watching her daughter today. A mere 7 years old not able to understand all she has lost. I remember holding this girl in my arms when she was weeks old. Joni and I spoke of marriage, children, religion as I held this sweet tiny baby. Joni continuing to guide while allowing plenty of room for my own thoughts and decisions.
I shed tears for the mother this child no longer has, the events she will go through knowing her mom should be there with her. I do however take comfort in that no one could love her anymore than her dad and how amazingly wonderful her life will be because he is in it.
I also shed tears for the son she leaves behind. This boy I've thought of as a little brother has grown into a wonderful man with a wife and life all his own. I always knew he would do wonderful things with his life and let me just say he does not disappoint.
I had held it together through the service rather well until after all was done and we all turned to leave this boy no more leaned down to give me a hug and we both just fell into weeping. I know his shoulders are heavy now with a sister who will need him more than ever and the void left from no longer having his mom around.
It's just all very sad and the tears fall so freely now that they have become expected, accepted. So with a sad and heavy heart I say:
Thank you Joni, for everything. It meant more than you would ever know or I could express. Thanks for the car rides, the attitude adjustments, the words of encouragement, the reality checks, the hugs, the gentle pushes in the right direction, the feeling that you were always in my corner and willing to show up...and for the shower, band-aids, clothes, and motherly love that night.
Monday, June 1, 2009
trying to find those 5 needed minutes
Needless to say having 4 kids is totally kicking my rear. I am finding it difficult to get everything completed during the day. So, my writing has taken a back seat which really bothers me because not only do I enjoy writing but it is also my sounding board and release of the happenings.
We have managed to make it through the wedding with very little drama and only a few tears. It was a beautiful event and I'm rather sad my friend isn't close anymore but I'm hoping to plan a trip to see her before summer is over.
The dress I wore...holy good god....my breasts look like they are coming out of it at all angles which I suppose they were. My advice for those in the future don't wear a strapless dress when you are breastfeeding and your breasts are the size of small blimps.
Since the wedding we have seen little of Sean as he is traveling as much as possible to be with his dad in Charleston. With a little luck his dad may be home the end of this week and Sean won't have to travel as far to help out.
We also have the yard sale coming up this Saturday. I have so many kids clothes and maternity clothes that I have filled 4 racks and still have at least 2 trash bags full. I'm hoping that we can make a good amount of spending cash for the beach.
Also, our first trip back to the beach since we've had Conor. His first beach trip...so sad because the other 3 where on the beach before they were a month old. I hope we are able to still make him a beach baby.
Sorry for the deconstructed posts...I'm forcing myself to at least type a few thoughts down when I find a minute. I'm truly trying to get back into writing but it's always the first thing to give up when the day is busy which seems to be a daily event.
For example, today I took both boys to the doctor's office. They each had to have 3 shots and get checked out. Let me just say, you try to take a 2 year old and a 2 month old by yourself and see how you survive.
It went well enough but it wore me out trying to keep Michael from screaming and escaping the entire time as Conor was getting hungry and we still had the shots to survive. Luckily, after shots I was able to feed Conor and get home just in time to put both boys down for a nap.
The house is quiet now thus the reason I have 5 minutes to type..but my time is up and I have to get back to getting things ready for the yard sale, working on my lists of things to get ready for the beach, and laundry/housework.
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