Posted By jayna on December 11, 2014
This four kid thing? Holy shit.
I don’t know if it’s because of the impeccable timing we managed to have, adding to the family just at the exact moment we entered another round of Terrible Threes, or the fact that this parenting while outnumbered stuff is just plain hard, but whoa. Tater has been putting both the husband and I through our paces every minute of every day. The amount of tears and thrash-about tantrums and poorly chosen battles that have been coming from him is absolutely insane. He alone is the source of 90% of our exhaustion. On the flip side, MJ seems to be thriving in the chaos, skipping between parents while batting her eyelashes and offering to help with whatever it is we could possibly need, and we’re just over here waiting for her to crash and burn. Miss E is completely enamored with her newest sibling, but is a leeeeetle pissed off about the lack of over-the-top holiday cheer going on in the house. Apparently suggesting that the cookies AND the lights AND the inside decorations AND the perfectly wrapped presents AND the Christmas dinner pirogi aren’t all going to happen was too much for her to handle. Traditions! We have TRADITIONS, MOM! We’re working on compromising, but it’s tough to explain to a seven year old that you really just want to say hell no to the thought of decorating cookies and go take a nap.
The week before I had the baby, Miss E came down with a cold. Congestion, wicked cough, general awfulness that sent me into despair over having sick kids in the house and my dad in town and him having to take care of them when I was gone and, oh yeah, bringing a newborn home to it all. As a bit of the icing on that cake, Miss E threw up, everywhere, the night before I went into labor. Which, yeah, that was super special.
By the time I left the hospital, all three kids were snotting everywhere and hacking like crazy. Yay germs all over the newborn! By the time my dad went home, he was sick as well. Over the last four weeks, we’ve all gotten a touch of it – even me, of course – and that takes having an infant to care for to a whole new level. Every time I swear we’ve kicked it, someone starts hacking in the middle of the night or runs a mystery fever or something equally as ridiculous.
And, we aren’t the only ones suffering from it.
One night, the husband was in the store buying cough drops for Miss E to take with her on a full day field trip. As he was checking out, he ran into her teacher. Smiling, he raised the bag up and said how he was actually buying them for her. She got a good laugh out of that, and hopefully appreciated not having to hear E cough for the entire bus ride there and back. As the story goes, she’s completely over hearing it in the classroom. Personally, I’m completely over feeling like the terrible mom sending her sick but completely not contagious kids to school.
In addition to the general crud, I was the luckiest of all lucky ladies and had a super special issue pop up that made me want to crawl into bed and never come back out.
We had nine people coming to town for Thanksgiving. On Wednesday morning, the day they all were going to begin the long weekend together at our house, I woke up feeling like someone had whacked me with a baseball bat between the legs. My back was killing me, my nerve down my leg was killing me and I could barely hobble around the house. For the next five days, I whined to the husband in whispers and grinned through gritted teeth while pretending it wasn’t that bad.
Finally, FINALLY, I got an appointment with my doctor on Monday morning. Cue a couple of nurses, two incredulous doctors, and a seriously painful procedure. Voila, I could walk without cursing.
Google Bartholin Cyst. And then thank all of your lucky stars if you had never heard of that before.
After that, shed a couple tears for me in sympathy.
(Seriously. Almost worse than childbirth.)
The baby. We cannot forget about the baby. No way.
ZZ. Sweet baby Z. The fairest of them all, a resemblance to even less of the family tree than MJ. And, as we’ve heard a million and one times already, he completes our rainbow of hair colors. In just the past four weeks, he’s become such a true baby and left the newborn stage in the dust. Already pushing at the feet of his 3 month pajamas, he is no longer content to be left with nothing to look at. Cats within reach are wildly swiped at and rarely does he stay on his stomach, doing his best to roll right back over each time. This is high on the list of my favorite stages, when they’re still so new but waking up a bit more each day.
We keep saying how he’s such an easy baby and savor inch every bit, knowing the real pain is right around the corner. I was thrilled one night when I checked the clock and realized I’d gotten a solid six hour stretch of sleep. In the morning, I was convinced I could fly, and wheee, every day would be a breeze if this was how wonderfully he was going to sleep. And then, the next night, he was up literally every hour.
But, he’s cute, ridiculously cuddly and melts our hearts with every smile, so I suppose he can be forgiven for anything at all at this point.