I have long been under the misguided impression that my adorable little brood of children are a joy and wonder to all we meet. All "baby-less" couples we know, Jonathan and I innocently assume that a simple visit from us will soothe all their fears and make them long for a family of their own.
Let's take a moment to observe our family from the outside...
A Visit to a Friends
Just today I decided to dress all my children and take them to a friends goodbye open house. The beginning should have been a clear indicator for me, but my pregnant-fogged brain failed to pick up the classic signals and instead I persevered. Getting ready is an hour-long endeavour involving stress, palpitations, minor hyperventilation, and a whole lot of sweating (darn it, tell me I didn't forget the deodorant this morning!). I dressed Malakai and moved on to choosing Caleb's clothes. As Caleb dressed himself, I went to help Selah, trying to rip the knots of leftover food and gum out of her hair so I could attempt to put it up. After much complaining (on both our parts) I returned to the boys' bedroom to find Caleb with his pants half on, playing with his cars or watching a show. Trying to maintain my sanity, I turned off the TV, made a few mindless threats about "we'll stay home if you don't hurry up!" (which, by the way, have NO effect whatsoever) and moved on to getting myself ready. For this part, I am slowly learning to shut the bathroom door and lock the chaos out for a few minutes. This morning I remembered this time-saving manoeuvre and was quite proud of myself as I applied many layers of makeup to hide the bags under my eyes and the hormone zits. I walked out of the bathroom feeling somewhat human only to find Caleb yet again half dressed, preoccupied with some thing or another and Selah and Malakai fighting in the bathroom behind me. Upon returning to the said bathroom, I found my adorable toddler throwing cups, toys, and other items into the toilet and flushing it with grandeur. Selah was screaming in terror, horrified at what her little brother had done, and I was rushing in with my hand down the toilet (freshly used I might add) trying to dig out the remains of this small catastrophe. Crises averted.
Shutting the bathroom door, a little too forcefully I might add, I go back to the boys' room and find Caleb has finally dressed himself and we are ready to progress to the second stage of dressing, the front door. Herding my little brood I go to the front and deal with Malakai's meltdowns, Caleb running out without his jacket, Selah whining in abandon that she "can't do it" and myself feeling slightly overwhelmed trying to complete the task in record time, we still have a 20 minute walk ahead of us! Deep breath Rebecca, this will pass. Just get them outside. My inner self speaks reason, it sounds so nice and calm, my outer self feels like hitting it with a large baseball bat. Finishing my feat, I make sure I have all my supplies and get the kids into the stroller and begin my walk. I'll save you every single detail of the day, but suffice it to say we got there in one piece. My kids even made it most of the way through the visit without destroying the house or embarrassing me. I was starting to feel relaxed, proud even of my "good little kids". And then, it happened. The true essence of my life emerged. I sit, I stand, I sit, I stand. Caleb is licking nanaimo bars off the table, leaving a smear of chocolate all over his little face and stuck fast to the table. Selah is stealing trinkets and putting them in her purse. Malakai is taking toys and throwing them into the toilet. Selah is screaming because her shirt strings on her back as she went potty made her sure she had a bee on her bum! After soothing her and fishing my SECOND item from the depths of toilet (also, freshly used), I decide the time has come to leave. I get the kids dressed yet again, boots on, shoes on, socks on, coats on... and Caleb walks through the house leaving a trail of mud. I scolded him and told him to sit on the front step, which he did so well, only he chose the second step, smearing his muddy shoes all over the carpet. Malakai and Selah are eating tostito chips with vigour, leaving a trail of crumbs all over the landing. All my embarrassed inner-self can think of is "retreat, retreat!" So we do, and as we make the trip back to the safety of my home, which can surely be destroyed no more than it already has... I think to myself, it's true, I really am crazy!
Three kids, soon to be four, all 4 and under! No wonder everyone looks at us as though we are losing our minds, we really are. And yet, as I look at my kids asleep in their beds, peaceful and so darned cute, I wouldn't change it for the world. Do I expect to bring my kids over and "endear" my friends to have kids? No, I think those days of naivety are over. The only testimony that I can give for our insanity is this:
Our lives are chaos. Every day is an adventure, often ending with at least some form of bodily fluid on me, kids screaming all day long, and a house that is DESTROYED. And yet, we choose to have more kids.
What greater testimony to family can I have than that? Despite the list of crazy that goes on in my home (you don't even WANT to know the half of it), we love it. We choose to have more. And yes, we are pregnant again. Not because we are unaware of how it happens, despite popular opinion :) No, there has got to be something to it if we just can't get enough. I had my fill of crazy years ago, but my fill of children? My fill of kids, of adventure, of being challenged beyond anything I ever thought, of having my heart fuller than I ever imagined? Of watching a part of me, no, 3 parts of me, grow and change, and become little people of their own. Of watching my kids interact and love one another? Of watching them even fight and wondering at their differences? No, I will NEVER have my fill of that. So, I can't promise to come over to your house, although I can almost guarantee you wouldn't want the chaos over there anyways. Instead, I will stay in my safe, mostly destroyed house. And I will survive. But I will survive in the knowledge that despite being half crazy, and crazier every day, there is NOTHING in this world that compares to being a mom. And no matter how crazy it gets, I wouldn't trade it for the world!
** Special thanks to Christa, a good friend and a great mom! Thanks for putting up with us today, and all the best in your big move!
