Hardest Job in the World

Many refer to it as "the hardest job in the world" and most people upon hearing that description smile and nod, thinking that surely we should give credit to those stay at home mom's who make it their job to raise children.  But in the back of our minds I think many people think - how hard would it be to wake up with the kids, stay home with them and just hold them all day and play with them?  Drive them where they need to go.  Throw in a load of laundry, pick up a few toys?  Sounds pretty fun and easy!

I used to have a totally different picture of what staying at home with kids would be like.  I imagined myself dressed AND showered, playing with the kids in a nice clean house.  My kids were of course well behaved, only giving me a hard time maybe once in a while.  Playing in the backyard on nice days.  Play dates with friends.  Coffee.  Free time during nap time.

Um, yea....

I have to laugh as I throw down this glimpse into my reality as a stay at home mom.  Don't get me wrong, I am overwhelmed with love for my children and despite the tough aspects, I love being here with them everyday and consider myself very fortunate to be able to do that.  There are many others out there in more difficult situations such as single parents, those dealing with children that have handicaps or illnesses, etc.  Working moms, who deal with a whole different set of challenges.  To those people I give much credit.  Admittedly though, there are some days that I want to tackle Justin for his car keys right before he leaves for work and instead take off myself and enjoy like 5 seconds of alone time on my drive to find sanity.

Waking up leisurely with three kids under 3yrs is more like being rudely awakened at 5am after enjoying a nice solid stretch of 2 or 3 hours of sleep that was constantly interrupted by the kicks of one of your children (yea, never letting them in the bed didn't seem to work out quite like I thought....) that for whatever reason had trouble sleeping and found their way into your room.  Then it's putting one twin on each hip and convincing Addison that she can, in fact, WALK on her own down the stairs first thing in the morning - even though she would prefer to be carried as well.  Then it's changing diapers, trying to appease two one-year olds that would love to wake up for a minute in your lap, but really don't get that option often because there are in fact two of them.  Getting Addison settled and then and only then can I begin to think about taking a pee.  Of course taking a pee is done with either my 3 yr old right in there talking to me about what cartoon she'd like to watch or what cereal she is in the mood for or it's done with the twins busting through the gate to join me and maybe rifle through the bathroom garbage as I wrap up that pee as fast as I can in sheer horror trying to jump off the toilet to corral them back into a safer place.  We hit the ground sprinting.  No doubt about it.

Showering with young children in the house is comical.  Either they join me in the bathroom getting into everything under the sun and opening and closing the shower curtain on me the entire time (so much for the warm part of the shower).  OR, they are roaming somewhere else in the house getting into something or making a mess or helping themselves to snacks.   Or they are babies and just plain screaming because I put them in an exersaucer or crib and "left" their sight for 5 minutes.  Even if they were peacefully napping, 9 times out of 10 they will wake up as soon as I get my hair wet.  It's like a rule.  It's so relaxing. 

A clean house.  Cue the high pitched laughter of an insane person.  (I have to say I stole that line from another blog I read because I found it so fitting and it made me laugh so hard).  Justin and I are kind of anal about trying to keep a clean house but even we have to let this fly out the window most days.  Cleaning highchairs should be on America's Dirtiest Jobs - hands down.  Naptime is spent running around as fast as my legs can carry me to retrieve some sort of fleeting order to the house so that the afternoon's tornado will take a little less time to clean after the kids go to bed.  Laundry has turned into probably the one thing that haunts me in my dreams (or should I say nightmares).  It's never done. 

Meals.  Well, my kids are fed.  It's hit or miss for me...

Addison no longer naps, but getting the twins to go down together is quite an art.  I can count on some shenanigans happening downstairs as I take one of them up to lay them down.  Once asleep, I've learned which cries I can let go and which ones require me to run in there and snatch one of them up like I am making a prison break while simultaneously praying to God I don't hit that squeaky floorboard and wake the other one up.  Fun times.

Playing outside.  Great in theory.  Fun for the kids at least.  Meanwhile back at the ranch there I am, sweating like a pig after working so hard to get everyone out and set up.  Then someone has to go to the bathroom or outside is for some reason unknown to me no longer that appealing to the babies.  Hauling them all back in is another good workout for sure.

There is no such thing as a quick errand.  If we have to go somewhere, it takes about all morning to line it up.  Then comes that small window of time where everyone is fed, changed, happy and you run like hell to load the van up and squeal the tires on the way out of the driveway so that you can preserve this rare moment in time.  Get to the store, unload all three kids from their carseats one at a time and go about your business, which for a person with multiples is never quick because each and every person will stop you, oogle at the twins and tell you a lengthy story about so and so who they knew, whose cousin's friend's brother had twins.  I know they are being genuine.  And I appreciate it.  But some days...    Once home, I unload three children one at a time out of their carseat into the house and deal with everyone being tired and / or hungry at the same time.

Dealing with meltdowns.  For the twins it's little fits (though very ear piercing) here and there when they fight over a toy or are tired/not feeling well and want me.  For Addison it is power struggles or attention getting tantrums.  Now my kids are pretty laid back and well behaved, but there are days that I think if I hear another scream I will hit my head against the wall until I pass out just to make them go away.  (is that more socially acceptable than drinking myself into an oblivion??).

Basically, by the end of the day I have had not one solid minute to myself without a child at me needing something or everything.  I haven't had a chance to collect my thoughts or even acknowledge that I had thoughts.   I realize that I've hardly had any adult interaction.   I never thought it would be quite like that.  I think that is why I put "Mom" right up there with one of the hardest jobs in the world.  I'm sure there are others, but being a stay at home mom is often overlooked.  No one is there to witness the battles you face all day everyday.  There is no quiet car drive into work.  There is no lunch break.  There are no bathroom breaks! There is no "going home" from your job.  It follows you into your eveninsg and nights, on your vacations, there is no escaping!  It is very rewarding and very important, but hardly genuinely acknowledged.  Some days all I selfishly want is someone to look me in the eyes and tell me "It's hard.  And you are doing a good job."

So to all you great moms out there, from the bottom of my heart I tell you "It's HARD.  And you are doing a GREAT job."

The Journey

Dead silence in the OB's office during an ultrasound.  Not exactly comforting. 

"I knew it", I thought.  "Something must be wrong." 
I had had a really strange feeling about this pregnancy and was actually very nervous going into my first appointment.  Couldn't put my finger on why I felt this way.

"Sooo...", said my OB after a short time of moving the wand across my belly.   "What do YOU see?"

I looked at her and then up at the screen, searched around trying to make sense of why she was asking me this?  I was thinking, "I see a small fetus and heart beating, isn't that what we were looking for??!"
And then I spotted something else. 

A SECOND fetus. 
A SECOND heart beating. 
A SECOND BABY???!

"T-twins?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes!" she said.  "You are pregnant with twins!"

HOLY. CRAP. 

Not sure if I said that one out loud, but I am pretty certain I was thinking it!

Then the goosebumps. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I had been praying that everything was developing properly with the baby, etc.  Each time I went to say, "Lord, please bless this baby"  It always came out "please bless these babies".  I would kind of laugh and say, "why do I keep saying that?!" and one time I actually said, "well, if there are two babies in there, please bless them both!" and I laughed.  To be completely honest, never once did I seriously entertain the thought of having twins in my head.  It's almost comical in a way, like God was gently breaking the news to me.  My mind didn't grasp it at the time, but clearly He had already made my heart well aware.

The journey began.  Picking up the phone to call Justin as I left the appointment.  Being told, "yea, ok, whatever - see you when you get home!!!".  Calling my mom next, "What?!  Noooo, come on - you're just kidding around!".  The drive home was a frenzied string of phone calls, trying to convince the world that I was in fact NOT joking!

First trimester.  Belly growing exponentially fast.  Feeling oh so very sick.  Eating nothing but Cheerios.  Only thing that sounds good.  Second trimester. Feeling pretty good.  Eating obscene amounts of protein and calcium.  Waking up at least 3 times a night absolutely RAVENOUS. Fumbling around the kitchen during the middle of the night for food to satisfy the growing lives within. Working hard to drink a gallon of water a day.  The "big" ultrasound .... both BOYS!!!  Amazing joy, unbelief, excitement!  Third trimester.  Terribly uncomfortable. Can I really get any bigger?

Tiring quickly.  Constant movement from the babies. Unable to keep up with my body's demands for fluids.  Dehydration.  Hospitalization.  At least 5-6 nights within one month hooked up to IV's and two heart monitors.  No sleep.  Laying in the most uncomfortable positions to ensure that the monitors stay on both babies hearts.  No way I am compromising these precious lives.  Eyes glued to the heart monitor - watching their heart rates like a hawk for entire days and nights.  Constant unplugging, wheeling IV's  into the bathroom to pee every 2 minutes - soo much fluid, absolutely zero room for it.  Re-plugging everything back in.  Repositioning the heart monitors.  No mixing up the heart monitors with me.  Knew those boys by their heartbeats, the way only a mom could.  Could find those babies in a flash.  Nurses let me do it every time.  Labor stopped.  Happy to be released home again.  Strict bedrest.  Delivery can not come fast enough.  Waterbottle constantly in hand.  Timing contractions each and every day.  36 1/2wk ultrasound.  Fluid is low for Baby A, time to deliver.  Never been so happy to be going into labor! 

Induction. Relatively quick labor. Time for the babies to come.  Being rushed to the OR for delivery as precaution.  Mass chaos.  Sooo many people in the room.  Sooo uncomfortable, need to push NOW!  Keep asking to.  Keep being told to hang on a little bit longer.  Then the green light.  Lucas is born.  Incredible joy.  No time to focus, one more to go!  Enduring painful techniques to get Baby B in position.  5 doctors and nurses maneuvering my belly.  Their feet are leaving the ground they are pushing him so hard.  Can I take much more?  Staring at the ceiling through tearful eyes.  Gritting and bearing.  And then .... another cry.  Evan is born.  JOY.  RELIEF!  I remember them wheeling me back to my room and me saying "I'm just so happy they are out!".  Man, being a mom is not for the weary. :)   There is nothing like new life.  What a miracle.

Back home 2 days later.  Nights where Justin and I averaged about 45 minutes of sleep for the entire night.  Sweet boys.  Darling babies.  Then colic.  Remember Justin referring to our mental states of mind as "we are ready to "off" ourselves"  haha.  (glad I can laugh about that now).  Then came the budding personalities.  The joyful, confident, intelligent, loving and cuddly babies that Lucas and Evan are.  How much they add to our lives.  How did we get to be so blessed? 

The boys will be one year old next month.  This year has zipped right on by.  It has been an amazing year.  Wonderfully happy, yet wonderfully hard and challenging at the same time.  These two boys add so much to our family.  God has brought us all so far.  There is a quote,

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
-Elizabeth Stone

I couldn't agree more.


Evan and Lucas, I hope to show you each and every day how much you are truly cherished.  I love you.

The house that built me

I remember being a young kid and hearing a knock at the front door.  There stood this elderly woman that we did not know.  She asked if she could come inside and look around the house, said this was the home she grew up in.  I remember my parents letting her in and us kids watching her as she walked around our old farmhouse, her mind clearly filling with old memories as she peered in each and every room.  I remember thinking that I wondered what that must feel like, to come back there after all those years.

The other day I drove through my hometown with my daughter on our way to a playdate.  I decided to drive her past my old house.  It is truly amazing the feelings that return when you see your old house, driveway, porch and yard.  Despite the unfamiliar cars in the driveway and strange furniture that you can see through the windows, it still feels as if you can drive up, park your car, hop out and waltz right through the backdoor to see your mom in the kitchen, your dad in the living room and the loud bustle of 5 active kids doing their thing.  Home. Even after all these years of being away, it's still home. 

People say it is not the four walls of a house that create the memories, but rather the love of the people inside them to make it a home.  Of course I believe that to be true, but I would also argue that those four walls contain value and memory.  If I walked through our old house, I imagine the wooden floors would speak to me of hosting us kids and our sliding contests in our slippery socks to blaring Christmas music, the large old floor vents would offer up the warm memory of us girls fluffing up our nightgowns as we stood over them on those chilly winter nights and mornings.  The upstairs bathroom would remember four girls getting ready each morning, fighting for warm shower water and mirror time!  The screened in porch would reminisce about the giggles of my younger brother and sister during their sleepovers outside on warm summer nights.  The "middle yard" as we called it, would speak of kind neighbors who more or less allowed us to share that portion of their yard as our own for kickball, tag, red rover and an ice rink for our "ice shows" in the winter time.  The big old tree out front that we loved to climb on as we waited for the school bus, but weren't technically allowed to because it was too close to the busy road.  Gosh, as I sit here and think about it, there is not a square inch of that house or yard that does not contain a memory.  Memories that wrote the story of my childhood.  The happy memories and the sad memories.  I remember sitting on the floor with my sisters near the edge of our bedroom and my mom brushing our hair after a bath as we learned of her mother's passing.  The ups and downs of life.  Memories.  Home.

I think Miranda Lambert sums up the feelings that my siblings and I have for 245 Mason in her song "The House that Built me".  None of us can hear that song, without thinking of our childhood home.  In the end, it was the unconditional love of our family that made that place so special.  The unconditional love that we all still hold for eachother and is always understood - even through the most difficult of times. 

I love the memories that my childhood home contains.  If those walls could speak.....!  In a strange way, I think they miss us just as much as we miss them. :)

Lukewarm

There are days when going back to work seems like a wonderful, relaxing vacation I would like to be on!  Yesterday was one of those days.  I should have known I was set up for disaster as I shook the creamer for my morning coffee and realized that someone had not securely closed the cap after they used it last.  Creamer sprayed all over me, the counter and the floor.  Awesome.  These are the days where every task seems just a bit overwhelming to me.  Not sure why.  The normally laid back twins are instead crawling up my legs to be held, chucking the toys they are playing with because they are tired of them and screaming bloody murder whenever I go out of their sight.  Days where Addison wanders the house with a look of total boredom. Yeah, it's February in Michigan and we are in a rut!!

This winter hasn't been long and neither has it been very cold.  Yet still, this time of year I find myself longing for something.  A vacation would be nice.  Some place warm and sunny.  The last vacation we took was up to my parent's place in Traverse City for the 4th of July.  I left early in the week with the kids and Justin met me up there for the long holiday weekend.  The twins were only a few months old at the time.  Most of you know the story, on the drive up the babies had woken up and were screaming to be fed. Addison was getting restless listening to all the racket and kept asking me, "Mom, can you let me outta here?".  Then I saw police lights in my rear view mirror.....wonderful.  Thankfully, the officer simply flashed me a sympathetic smile and sent me on my way, probably thinking that he'd be speeding if that were the situation in his minivan too!  As soon as we got up north, I immediately came down with the worst head cold known to man.  Totally wiped me out and yet I still needed to be up all night nursing the twins, etc thinking, "I need a vacation from this vacation!".  Thankfully, my mom was there to help and we ended up having a nice visit in spite of all that.

I think we all need a change of pace every now and then.  I remember my first year out of college.  I thought it was such a weird feeling to not have that semester change of classes or that summer break switch over to full time work.  No change of pace!  Since then, I find I often put my life on "autopilot" and then some time later, wonder why I am getting restless. I have become lukewarm.

As usual, God says it best:
Matthew 5:13-16
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."

As long as you are still here on earth, God has a reason for you to be here.  Remind yourself of that!  I used to love reading the quote at the bottom of my old co worker's email signature.  It read, "Above all, be kind.  For you never know what someone else is going through".  So true.  We affect other people's lives everyday and we often are not even aware of it.  We were made to be reflections of God.  Those pieces of me that reflect Him are those that I cherish the most. They need to be nurtured and fed and put out there for the world to see.  They need to be used to glorify God.  When I become lukewarm, I am not doing God justice for the life He has given me.  I am not doing my family justice.  I am not doing myself justice.  The joy in the everyday somehow vanishes.

Sure, vacations help my mood for the moment.  However, it is my life that I always return to.  So perhaps this dreary time of year is a good time to assess where I have become lukewarm in my journey.  Time to shine.  I don't know about you, but I'd like to give some glory back to the God who has blessed me with so very much.

Age

I'll be watching a movie and thinking to myself that this actor or actress must be close to my age.  And then I read somewhere that they are like 23 years old.  Ouch!

So I have a hard time believing that I am (ahem) ......30....... years old. 

Sure, I realize that in the large scheme of things, 30 is not old at all.  However, I personally have to admit that 30 is probably one of the last numbers I 'feel' like turning .... not meaning the last year I'd like to live of course, but let's face it - 30 is when you are officially separated from the young "twenty something" crowd and instead paired up with the "young family" crowd.  It's not necessarily a bad thing, but a mental adjustment for sure. 

I remember that I used to refer to people as "early 30's" when I didn't know their age and they looked older than me.  Then came the day I said that and realized that I, myself was now grouped into that category.  I better up my phrase to "mid-late 30's"!  I truly don't think about it much, but there are those times I feel like I am in an episode of this old sitcom that used to air (I can't even remember the name anymore).  The intro was this minivan pulling into a beach parking lot and as these young parents were unloading floaty after floaty, strollers, coolers, umbrellas, kids, etc.  They looked totally exhausted, sleep deprived and sweaty and then this convertible pulled up next to them.  Four young people hopped out with nothing but their surfboards and sunglasses and took off to the water!  They stopped unloading for a minute and just stared at them longingly.....yea, I think I have officially been there! 

Driving a minivan is something of a turning point in your life, right?  I've heard friends say,
"Maybe people will just think I am the hot nanny!?"
Not even that, I just hate the work it takes to load and unload everyone and their things for simple trips.  Or when you pull up next to a car filled with young kids and you feel like a total mom.  Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but not exactly how I picture myself all the time!

I must admit that I often mistake college kids for high school kids and then think, college age?  No, they couldn't be....could they?  Or when I see all of those skinny jeans out there and come to terms with the fact that most of my jeans are still boot cut .... the haunting thought enters my mind .... are boot cut jeans like the new "mom jeans"?!?!?!  I don't think so, and I sincerely hope not!  But what if they are!?  hahaha

To be honest, I don't think I could keep up with the twenty something crowd anymore.  Nor does nightlife really interest me much these days.  I like to try and get in bed by 10pm for sure - earlier if I can!  Not that I am promised to actually SLEEP, given the kids.  But that is when I at least like to start trying :)  Of course a night out here and there is divine.  But so is getting comfy on the couch and watching an episode of MadMen.  :)  (I am totally painting a picture of my dork life now, aren't I?)

In the end, I can even see large differences in myself from being in my twenties until now.  Age brings more wisdom and confidence and so many other wonderful things, despite the occasional wrinkle.  And building a family and enjoying this stage can actually be quite fulfilling. 

So I guess you just try to follow that Tim McGraw song, right? 

Something like,
"I think I'll take a moment, celebrate my age.  The ending of an era and the turning of a page.  Now it's time to focus in on where I go from here.  Lord, have mercy on my next 30 (+) years!"

Heartstrings

"Did you have sweet dreams?", I asked Addison when she woke up from her nap a few weeks ago.
"Uh huh" she answered.
"What did you dream about?"
"You"

Talk about tugging at those heartstrings!  I think most moms agree that these are the little moments we live for.  When a compliment comes from a little one, it is on such a deeper level because they are nothing but honest.

For as many crazy funny things as Addison can say, she sure does come up with some amazingly sweet words.

I'll know I'll never ever forget two of these comments (although I hope to never forget any of them).  They were both simple words, but they meant so much to me at the times they were spoken.  One of them came the day I found out we were expecting twins.  Talk about shocker!  Sooo many things racing through my mind and at the top of that list was worrying about Addison and whether or not she would feel left out, or if I'd have enough time for her once they arrived.   I wasn't voicing any of this, but instead I was sitting on the couch watching Addison play.  Out of the blue, she walked over, made direct eye contact with me and said,

"I'm ok, Mom" 

She's always been very vocal for her age, but I thought here is this little girl just shy of 2yrs old and out of everyone I had spoken with that day, she was the only one who had made me feel a little more at ease about the situation.  God sure does know what we need to hear, when we need to hear it and who we need to hear it from, doesn't He?

The other comment I'll never forget was once the twins had arrived and were 6 weeks old.  They were both colicky and being home alone with them and Addison during the day while Justin was at work was really, really hard in the beginning.  I was having such a hard day pleasing the babies and finally just broke down into tears.  Addison walked over to me and said,

"Don't give up, Mom!"

 I know it sounds silly, but that simple comment meant so much to me.  It helped me pull it back together and keep on trucking for the sake of this patient, little girl who had every right to cry herself from being put (for lack of a better phrase) "on the backburner" since the twins required just about everything I had to give back then.

I was thinking about this last night when Lucas was having trouble sleeping.  His nose was stuffy and his tearduct clogged.  I pulled him into our bed to see if I could get him to fall into a deeper sleep and then try plopping him back in his crib.  Addison must have heard me because pretty soon I see her blankie flip up over the top of my bed, her little arms following.  She hauled herself right up there with us.  Normally, she would probably wedge her way in between the baby and I, saying that the baby was ok over there and that she needed to be next to me.  Tonight however, when I told her that "Lukey wasn't feeling well" and she gingerly laid down next to him, sweetly kissed his head and then picked up his tiny hand and held it for a while.  Then I felt her small hand rubbing my arm and then her tiny voice say,

"You're a good mom"

I looked over and saw her little smile and I tell you what, after a long and tiring day - that was I all needed to hear.  What a blessing she is to me.

Seriously?

"Seriously?" 

This is a word I tend to mutter very frequently these days.  Sometimes in a good way....such as when I drive home from an outing, all three kids fall asleep in the back and by the grace of God I am able to transfer each of them inside and into their beds without too much trouble.  Or at times like today, when I realized I was actually able to write three blogs this week - seriously?! 

However, on other occasions it isn't shall we say quite as 'positive'.....

Take earlier this week, for example.  It had been a crazy day, the house was a disaster, Justin called to say he was working late and I was feeding the twins dinner.  They were not pleased with my choice of entree. The food was being dribbled out of their mouths, spit out of their mouths - more or less anything so as to avoid swallowing it.  As this was going on, Addison was sitting behind me at the table snacking on a bowl of cereal. I had put it in one of those suction cup bowls.  Which by the way, I consider to cause more harm than good for the simple fact that Addison is intrigued by the suction cup feature and proceeds to stick it to the table, then pull it back off, stick it down, pull it off.....etc.  Well, this was precisely what she was up to when all of a sudden the suction releases, the ENTIRE bowl of cereal and milk shoot straight into Lucas's face and all down his body, highchair and eventually all over the floor.  The look of shock on all three children was priceless and we had a really hard laugh about that one, even the babies.  But as I thought about the clean up job, I was thinking ...
"Tonight of all nights. Seriously?!"

This also tends to be my response as all too often I begin nursing one baby, the other one instantly wakes up crying and then Addison chooses that precise moment to need help in the bathroom.  "Seriously?!"

Nap time is also pretty comical in our household.  I take one baby up to get him settled down, then the other.   Without fail, Addison will have some sort of "major crisis" going on downstairs the minute the baby begins to drift off.  She screams bloody murder for me to come down (even though I have asked her countless times to just come up quietly and get me...).  When I rush down to see what it is, more often than not something equivalent to "My sticker ripped". 
"Seriously?!"

Also love the times I spend 24 hrs it seems, getting everyone ready to go out the door and right as I load the boys into their carseats, they both decide it's a good time to poop.
"Seriously?!"

Or the one day I took them all to the park, only to find I had left the double stroller in the garage.
"Seriously?!"

I have to say that even though sometimes I lose it, I try hard to take a deep breath and find humor in these moments.  Because I know that all too soon there will come a day when I look back on all of this and say,

 "This part of my life is really over?  Seriously?"