Take A Beat...Breathe

For this past week, I've only had one child to feed and put to bed and look after and play with and pick up and do all the things with.  Every year my mom takes Freddie and Ainsley for a week.  And every year, I'm reminded what an awesome mom I can be with one child.

I finish the week psyched to be the mom I know I can be, because I've just done it.  For a week I've been patient, I haven't yelled, I haven't doled out punishments, I haven't lost my temper, I've said yes more than no.

Then this week fades into next, and reality sets in.  Three kids mean chaos that overwhelms me beyond my breaking point.

I love my kids.  Of course I do.  I don't think I even need to say that.  But three kids is no joke.  I have three little people with different wants and needs, clamoring for my attention from the moment we walk in the door at night until the moment the last one shuts his sleepy eyes.

So all week, I've been trying to figure out how I carry this calm, patient Jaime with perfect parenting skills into next week.  Because so often I feel like my kids get the worst of me and I hate the thought of them growing up just wanting to get out of a house where mom is always stressed and annoyed and tired.  So. Very. Tired.  These three people are the most important people in my life, but because of all the other noise and demands and responsibilities, I can't give them the me I want to give them.

I get up and go to work every day and deal with a bunch of whiny, ridiculous, adult-babies.  Then I fight through an hour of traffic and race through pick-ups to finally walk through the door and have dogs knocking me over to get out and dinner waiting to be cooked so homework can get done and reading can get done and bedtime can happen so I can have 30 minutes of quiet before I go to bed and do it all over again.

That's not life, that's survival.  I don't want my kids to learn how to survive life.  A lot of days, most days, I feel like that's what I'm teaching them...how to make it to the end of this journey, and that's no way to live.

Right now, we're a bit stuck with the situation.  There's no space to quit a job.  There's no wiggle room to hire help.  There's no cushion to pick up and move to a slower pace.  We are trying desperately to change all of that, but until then I have to be a grown up and do what needs to be done and I don't have a lot of choice in the matter.  I guess there's always a choice, but not a good one.

So for now, I'm going to do my best at changing the one thing I do have control over...my attitude.

In a week and a half, my kids will be back in school and the autumn cacophony will fill our house and it will feel like the entire universe is crashing around me, but I'm going to breathe.  I'm going to take a beat before I yell.  I'm going to count to 10 before I scream a punishment.  I'm going to be as patient as I can be.  I'm going to do everything I can to slow things down and not have life rush past me in the blink of an eye.  Just like I've been all week with just me and Cohen.  Because my kids deserve a mother who's enjoying life and not just surviving it.

The Decision That Wasn't So Hard

Before I had children, and even after I had Ainsley and Freddie, I had pretty much convinced myself that I wanted 4 children.  I tried to take it step by step and not plan too far into the future, but still everyone thinks about what's next even if they're enjoying what is.

When I was pregnant with Cohen, I started questioning what I wanted.  Suddenly Clif was very on board with having a 4th, but I was feeling that third pregnancy.  I was 35.  Pregnant and 35 is WAY different than pregnant and 29 or pregnant and 32.  What would pregnant at 38 be like?  I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

Then Cohen arrived and I suddenly felt very content.  Clif was quick to take back his ideas about a 4th.  In the hospital he said "I think three is good."  But I was not ready to give in.  Even though I had this overwhelming sense of "this is it," I still had that image in my mind and it wasn't easy to let go.  I insisted that we wait until Cohen was 1 year.  At that point we'd decide.

The idea of change is hard.  Harder than the actual change sometime.  The anticipation of a new job or a move or a change to the plan brings on way more anxiety for me than the actual event.  It was hard for me to believe that it would be the last time I experienced the excitement of pregnancy, the joy of a new baby, the comfort of nursing, the softness of pudgy hands and feet.

But then suddenly it wasn't.

From the moment he was born, I felt a stillness.  A calm.  All summer, home with the kids I felt so happy and content.  I don't need to wait for the 1 year mark.  I just know that Cohen will be our baby.  He will be it.

Clif and I have never been ones to worry about what a new baby will do to finances.  It's all temporary.  And you know what...no one helped me pay for college or a new car or my wedding or a house or anything, and I'm doing okay.  So that has absolutely nothing to do with it.  Right now we have 5 people and 2 dogs crammed into a 1400 square foot townhouse.  So it's not about space.  We've never had an issue loving another baby, so it's not about that either.  Babies and kids are hard...but the rewards so outweigh all the sleepiness and clinginess and business.

I can't give you an explanation.  It just is.  I know there will be no more babies and that decision was not as hard as I expected.  It actually wasn't hard at all.  Clif and I just said it one night at dinner.  There were no tears or heartache.  Actually, I believe there were some jokes and laughter.

So my thoughts of the future are no longer occupied with baby things and baby clothes.  For the first time in over 7 years I'm looking at what comes next.  Welcoming the idea of not being pregnant or nursing or diapering.  I've even thought about a mini vacation, with my husband, by ourselves!  I've thought about what kind of house we want to buy knowing our family is complete. 

And it is complete.  No doubt that each of my children have provided a huge, chunky, piece of that puzzle.  There are no more holes.  No missing pieces.  We are content and we are whole.

Number Three

I always knew I'd have at least three kids.  Clif and I are both the oldest of three, so it always seemed to be a given.

I'm sure there are those out there who think we're crazy.  I can't even tell you how many times someone would comment on how perfect we were with one boy and one girl.  That started when I found out Freddie was a boy.

"Oh perfect, one of each."

"You're so lucky to have on of each."

"Well now you can be done."

I would always nod and be polite but what I was thinking was "Who cares if I have one of each?  And I plan on having more."

Until you've felt it, it's hard to explain the need to have another child.  You just know there's another little soul out there that you're meant to be with.  It's not really a decision or a conscious thought...at least it wasn't for me.  It just was.

I have to say, that if you're having that feeling, go for it.  Three is awesome.  Everything is just so natural and easy at this point.

Now, let me be clear.  Life is not always easy.  Life is hectic and chaotic and crazy most days.  But that is not because of the third child, it is just part of having three kids.

Cohen is pure joy.  He is everything good about having a baby with none of the bad.  I'm no longer a nervous, worried, always questioning mom.  I feel like I can just enjoy every moment.  I'm completely confident in my abilities and decisions. 

I still worry about Ainsley.  I worry that she's not reading at the right level.  That she's not making enough friends.  That she's not involved in enough, or involved in too much.  When she was a baby I worried if she was eating enough, or too much.  Was I producing enough milk?  Why was she spitting up?  Did we do tummy time long enough?  Is she rolling over on time?  Would she be able to wear this outfit long enough?  Is she smiling, laughing, responding...blah, blah, blah. 

Freddie was so different from Ainsley, that he humbled me.  I thought I knew what I was doing, but he just never responded the same.  So I worried that I wasn't bonding with him enough.  That I wasn't meeting his needs.

Not with Cohen.  He's 5 months old.  He barely rolls over because I never put him on the floor.  He smiles and laughs more than he cries.  He eats when he wants and stops when he's done.  And I know that he's just fine.
 

It's not that I didn't enjoy my other kids as infants.  I did.  But now, I feel like that's all I do is enjoy him.  I don't let any worry or questions cloud that enjoyment.  I've managed to keep two other kids thriving past 5 months, so how could I go wrong here?

Your first baby rocks your world.
Your second baby builds your character.
And your third baby solidifies your confidence that you are totally cut out for this whole motherhood thing.

If only we could have that third baby, first - imagine how awesome we'd be.