Highs and lows: photo dump edition
{Welcome to a chatty, scattered capture of life with a newborn. Consider it old-fashioned blogging, capturing my daily life but without the need to tie my reflections up with a big bow to make A Point.}
Clara is five weeks old now.
A friend of mine who has seven of her own children said, "I tend to find that by four weeks, it's starts to get really real."
Indeed. Both in terms of the highs and the lows.
The highs -- a beautiful child who actually smiles at me and coos in response to my sing-song-y greetings. It's an unmatched high. She is a delightful little human.
But, a baby who is not on a predictable routine yet, but who doesn't sleep nearly as much as when we counted her life in days, that's challenging. You know, especially while juggling everyone else's needs.
The casseroles dropped off by neighbours are but a fond memory. Life goes back to normal for everyone else.
Yet here we are, still grappling with how to create a new sense of normal. Right now it looks like hot dogs and tater tots for dinner. Oh, and turning beet red when my toddler announces during circle time at playgroup that he can't wait to go home and watch 'Nerdy Nummies' (a Youtube cooking show with a gratingly cheerful hostess who speaks in catch-phrases).
If I had a quarter for every time I was told not to "overdo it", I could finance a weekly pedicure AND the babysitter to enjoy such a luxury. But the reality is, it feels like simply keeping on top of life with five kids right now is overdoing it. My sore, exhausted body says so, especially by 8pm each night.
Meanwhile, while walking to the library the other day, Anna perched on her bike with training wheels, Elijah in his push-car and Clara in the baby sling, I was told twice I had my hands full. I mean, literally, yes, I had one hand under the baby's sling and one hand pushing Elijah's car. Plus another kid for good measure.
One of the people who told me that actually rolled his window down from his car, leaned out of his car, only to yell from the other side of the street as we walked around town. I take no offence at these comments; for starters, as I said, it's literally true, and let's not forget I have been fielding them for almost eight years, when Isaiah was born.
I just smiled, both times, and said "full of good things!" It's quite easy for me to feel happy and comfortable in my role as very-busy-mom when my kids are all acting nicely in a public place and I'm competently managing what's in front of me.
So, that's a high, even if the comment wasn't meant as a compliment.
When we arrived at the library, I found a copy of "Digital Minimalism" by Cal Newport, which I had been wanting to read for a while, but feared I'd never be able to since the recent cuts to our province's libraries. I brought it downstairs where the children's section is, let the kids explore the stacks, while I eagerly read. When it was time to go, though, Elijah was a little less compliant than I would have liked and so I whittled down my remaining emotional energy by getting him to come upstairs and give his books to the librarian to check out.
Hence I looked stunned and probably as though my privacy was a bit violated when the librarian asked me, "so you're done now, right?" I gave a somewhat inarticulate answer, beginning with, "well that's a rather personal question" and trailing off to "I don't make permanent decisions about matters like this, but as of now, I'd say yes, maybe. Probably. I don't know."
I decided whilst gestating this fifth child, now dozing beside me on the couch, to see these weird conversations as an opportunity to be a fool for Christ. Almost no one will understand the intricate thoughts I mull over on this subject, and when caught off guard, I always say something dumb. So I offer up this moderate sense of humiliation for whatever intention strikes me at the moment.
Another high: how having five kids sometimes is less work. Yes, there is more laundry and more mouths to feed, but it's not much more work to make a slightly larger helping of shepherd's pie, and my oldest kids can fold laundry and put it away. They also regularly move the laundry from the washer to the dryer or the dryer to a basket awaiting folding. Oh how I wish I could have assured myself six years ago that life would like this; I wouldn't have been nearly as afraid of what was to come.
Of course, the biggest "work" a mother does is by being emotionally available to them -- having a lap to snuggle a toddler, an ear to listen to a bigger kid's playground woes. And that can't be outsourced to anyone. So in that sense, yes having a bigger family demands more of the parents.
That's not a "low," just an observation.
One wonderful thing was when friends generously brought us food right after Clara was born, a friend gave me a (generous!) gift card to Old Navy in a card, saying it's nice for the mom to get something new after giving birth. Because the postpartum days are so fraught when getting dressed is concerned -- just what is going on with this newer, squishier physique -- having something new to wear is such a boost to the mood.
So I cheerfully sport my new slogan shirt reading, "So Far So Good." A great Old Navy (aka "Old Lady" to Elijah) find. Despite being a decidedly UN-slogan shirt -type person, this little mantra seemed so fitting to me upon welcoming my own fifth human into the world. When someone asks me how it's going, I can smile and point to the shirt.
And my freckles have sprung forth. Maybe now, please, we can have a break from snow days (we've had one every month this school year except September, and hopefully, PLEASE GOD, not June).
Clara is five weeks old now.
A friend of mine who has seven of her own children said, "I tend to find that by four weeks, it's starts to get really real."
Indeed. Both in terms of the highs and the lows.
The highs -- a beautiful child who actually smiles at me and coos in response to my sing-song-y greetings. It's an unmatched high. She is a delightful little human.
But, a baby who is not on a predictable routine yet, but who doesn't sleep nearly as much as when we counted her life in days, that's challenging. You know, especially while juggling everyone else's needs.
The casseroles dropped off by neighbours are but a fond memory. Life goes back to normal for everyone else.
Yet here we are, still grappling with how to create a new sense of normal. Right now it looks like hot dogs and tater tots for dinner. Oh, and turning beet red when my toddler announces during circle time at playgroup that he can't wait to go home and watch 'Nerdy Nummies' (a Youtube cooking show with a gratingly cheerful hostess who speaks in catch-phrases).
If I had a quarter for every time I was told not to "overdo it", I could finance a weekly pedicure AND the babysitter to enjoy such a luxury. But the reality is, it feels like simply keeping on top of life with five kids right now is overdoing it. My sore, exhausted body says so, especially by 8pm each night.
Meanwhile, while walking to the library the other day, Anna perched on her bike with training wheels, Elijah in his push-car and Clara in the baby sling, I was told twice I had my hands full. I mean, literally, yes, I had one hand under the baby's sling and one hand pushing Elijah's car. Plus another kid for good measure.
One of the people who told me that actually rolled his window down from his car, leaned out of his car, only to yell from the other side of the street as we walked around town. I take no offence at these comments; for starters, as I said, it's literally true, and let's not forget I have been fielding them for almost eight years, when Isaiah was born.
I just smiled, both times, and said "full of good things!" It's quite easy for me to feel happy and comfortable in my role as very-busy-mom when my kids are all acting nicely in a public place and I'm competently managing what's in front of me.
So, that's a high, even if the comment wasn't meant as a compliment.
When we arrived at the library, I found a copy of "Digital Minimalism" by Cal Newport, which I had been wanting to read for a while, but feared I'd never be able to since the recent cuts to our province's libraries. I brought it downstairs where the children's section is, let the kids explore the stacks, while I eagerly read. When it was time to go, though, Elijah was a little less compliant than I would have liked and so I whittled down my remaining emotional energy by getting him to come upstairs and give his books to the librarian to check out.
Hence I looked stunned and probably as though my privacy was a bit violated when the librarian asked me, "so you're done now, right?" I gave a somewhat inarticulate answer, beginning with, "well that's a rather personal question" and trailing off to "I don't make permanent decisions about matters like this, but as of now, I'd say yes, maybe. Probably. I don't know."
I decided whilst gestating this fifth child, now dozing beside me on the couch, to see these weird conversations as an opportunity to be a fool for Christ. Almost no one will understand the intricate thoughts I mull over on this subject, and when caught off guard, I always say something dumb. So I offer up this moderate sense of humiliation for whatever intention strikes me at the moment.
Another high: how having five kids sometimes is less work. Yes, there is more laundry and more mouths to feed, but it's not much more work to make a slightly larger helping of shepherd's pie, and my oldest kids can fold laundry and put it away. They also regularly move the laundry from the washer to the dryer or the dryer to a basket awaiting folding. Oh how I wish I could have assured myself six years ago that life would like this; I wouldn't have been nearly as afraid of what was to come.
Of course, the biggest "work" a mother does is by being emotionally available to them -- having a lap to snuggle a toddler, an ear to listen to a bigger kid's playground woes. And that can't be outsourced to anyone. So in that sense, yes having a bigger family demands more of the parents.
That's not a "low," just an observation.
One wonderful thing was when friends generously brought us food right after Clara was born, a friend gave me a (generous!) gift card to Old Navy in a card, saying it's nice for the mom to get something new after giving birth. Because the postpartum days are so fraught when getting dressed is concerned -- just what is going on with this newer, squishier physique -- having something new to wear is such a boost to the mood.
So I cheerfully sport my new slogan shirt reading, "So Far So Good." A great Old Navy (aka "Old Lady" to Elijah) find. Despite being a decidedly UN-slogan shirt -type person, this little mantra seemed so fitting to me upon welcoming my own fifth human into the world. When someone asks me how it's going, I can smile and point to the shirt.
And my freckles have sprung forth. Maybe now, please, we can have a break from snow days (we've had one every month this school year except September, and hopefully, PLEASE GOD, not June).
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