A trip to Wendy's with five children. I should have thought about the last part with five children. It's been a while since we took them out to a restaurant. This time, I met my husband at Sam's so they could check his car. His brakes/car/something was making a funny noise. We headed over to have dinner while it got fixed.
My two older children, while trying to be good, pretended to "spy" on people who were in line. They kept peeking over the little wall (that holds the condiments) and then got back down giggling. My two year old tried to climb up on the wall, too. I think I pulled him back down a few times. One of my three year olds kept running around. My husband took each twin to the bathroom, so it felt like I was alone with the kids most of the time. Then one of the twins kept yelling for more chicken nuggets and fries. I was pretty happy with the display we were putting on. Yep, they're all mine.
The walk out to the car which was only like ten feet away was a great experience. One twin took off around the building while the other tried to run free, but I caught him. Then on the drive home, one twin kept screaming and spitting at me while unrolling the window and opening the power doors (I guess that happened before the drive home) until we found the child lock. Then on the drive while the window was unrolled, our window shade kept blowing out the window, so I couldn't roll the window up because I worried I would ruin the shade. The other two little boys kept spitting.
Needless to say, there were a few time outs at home and then they were tucked away to bed. Actually, it wasn't tucking. It was my husband staying down there putting the three little boys back in their beds every time they came out, for probably an hour or so. He does it almost every night. And I think he grits his teeth beforehand, knowing the struggle. The twins were starting to stay in bed, finally. Then the two-year-old got out of a crib into a bed and his newfound freedom started to rub off on the twins a little bit.
Last weekend we went to Shoshone Falls. We took a little hike and on our way back, I was ahead with the two older kids and one of the twins. My husband had the other two. We passed a couple and then the couple passed my husband. He stared at my husband and referring to us, who were up ahead now, he said: "Are all these yours?"
They were. They still are.
The twins used to get into the bathroom at night and get water with their play pots and pans and dump it in their beds, or more so, on the baby who was in the crib. There were a number of times we went down there to find the baby soaked. There is a good child lock handle on the bathroom door. That is taped. Apparently, they could just break it before.
On the really lucky days they would empty their clothes drawers and dump the clothes into the crib and then get in with the baby and all three would be jumping up and down on the clothes quite happily.
I realize I can't stop it. My kids are a little crazy. We try to help them have manners, and all of that, but they are kids. And thankfully, most people in this world seem to understand that--at least the people I have been blessed to be around.
I don't want to worry what others think of my kids, not really. I want them to be well-behaved, but I really want them to BE good. I want to parent my kids the best I can in whatever situation they are in, in public or not, and sometimes the parenting that is really needed is some food and a nap. And sometimes a hug. Actually, that's what I usually need too after a long day as well.
Being involved with the family
Matthew sat down on the bed beside me.
I layed face down, a few tears had spilled onto the sheets in front of me and my mascara, the only makeup I was wearing, had smeared a little under my eyes. I looked a little bit of a mess. But the crying kids, dirty house, and time being a few hours after 4 p.m. was obvious in my face. He already knew.
"How was your day?" He asked anyway.
"It was hard," I said. "The kids screamed and fussed, complained, asked me for things all day, what to do, and were all over the place. I also watched a few extra kids for a while too, although that wasn't too bad. And I think I have a sinus infection and overdid it."
"I'm sorry." He said.
He had been working extra hours at work and so I was trying really hard to have him come home to not a complete mess-physically or emotionally.
"I saw you made squash." He said.
I had already fed the kids their dinner since he was a little late coming home and I never got around to giving them squash. I called it good with the spaghetti and green beans.
"I know. I like squash." I said, remembering how none of it had been touched. "But I was too tired to eat it."
I started crying again.
Matthew let out a light laugh.
I looked at him. And finally, realizing how it sounded to have started crying over uneaten squash, while at the same time feeling like someone was caring and listening to my day, I smiled and maybe had a teeny giggle.
Matthew took care of the kids that evening while I took a warm bath and tried to get my emotions in place a little more.
I remembered one of the first conversations I had with him about family when we were dating. This was a very important topic and he started telling me his feelings about it.
"I want to do well in my career, but my family comes first. I want to make sure I have enough time to spend with my family." The conversation went on a little and then we hung up.
Dang.
He said exactly what I was wanting--someone who wanted to do well in their career but not at the expense of their family. I didn't want someone who just wanted to make a lot of money. I wanted someone who wanted to spend a lot of time with our family.
Matthew calls every single day on his way home from work.
"How are you? Do you need me to pick up anything on the way home?" are questions he always asks. And even though he knows what my answer to the "How are you question" is probably going to be, he asks anyway.
I try to sound positive even when the kids are screaming in the background and pulling on my legs. I try to not let all of the emotions of the day out on that one answer that I could give him. Sometimes it is hard, because someone is actually caring and asking me and asking me at probably the hardest or one of the hardest times of day.
After our crazy dinner every night, Matthew takes the three little boys and gives them a bath and gets their jammies on. I usually do dishes and then relax. Sometimes I help put on the jammies, but he almost does all the bedtime stuff by himself. There are times when even though I feel quite exhausted, I still try to help get them in bed, because Matthew has also had a long day without breaks. I think I have only given the little boys less than 10 baths in their lives. I hardly ever help brush their teeth (this week excluded) that I do not even know what color toothbrush each of them has. And when I asked Eli last night when I bravely volunteered so Matthew could rest, Eli lied and stole John's toothbrush. I don't know if it is lying at 23 months, but I think he knew it wasn't his, but wanted to try the red toothbrush instead of the blue one. John didn't like that idea.
I make dinner most of the time, but somedays I have had a little person following me around the kitchen, trying to get things out of the fridge, and crying, and so cooking has been difficult. On those days Matthew comes home and cheerfully decides he will make dinner. He makes a great omelet and we all love it. He also makes a great ham fried rice. I remember one time he so enthusiastically decided to make pumpkin pancakes. We were all pretty hungry and it was getting late. After he had made quite a large batch, it was finally time to taste one. They looked delicious. He took a bite and spit it out in the trash. He stared at me with a sickened look.
"What?" I asked.
Matthew went to the cupboard. He pulled out the spices. "Uhh, I think I put Cumin in instead of Cinnamon. Do you want to try one to see how bad it is?"
I thought of how quickly he had just spit his bite out into the trash.
"No thanks." I said.
"In my defense," he said holding up both the Cumin and the Cinnamon, "They look quite the same. It's quite easy to mistake them."
I paused. "Except that one says Cumin and the other says Cinnamon."
He stared at me. I smiled a little. I think we ended up having cereal that night.
Matthew will take the kids to the park on the weekends to give me a break. He will take one or two with him when he goes on shopping trips. He has taken all of the older four when the twins were younger. He came back one day.
"How was it?" I asked. I would not have taken all four shopping.
"It was okay." He answered.
I didn't see how it could be okay, or where he could have put the twins and the food and watched Mary and Nathan.
"Except John was trying to eat the celery and bananas that I put in the cart and the twins were screaming for a bit of it, and trying to throw things out of the cart..." I don't remember the rest.
I guess that counts as okay...
Matthew bought Nathan and Mary a baseball hat and Nathan a glove so Mary could use Nathan's old glove and took them out to play baseball at a field near our house. He has a sheepish look as he showed me the hats. Matthew is not a spender and even spending a little extra money on hats was something that probably stretched him a little. But he loves spending times with his kids.
He helps clean on the weekends and spent a few years cleaning the bathrooms almost every single Saturday with Mary and Nathan until he felt they could clean it themselves. I never volunteered for this line of work.
Matthew doesn't love doing dishes. I do most of them, but I don't mind, because he does bathrooms most of the time.
Matthew took the kids to a park this last weekend. I was possibly going to stay home and rest from a little cold I had, but Matthew turned to me. "Do you want to come?" He asked.
I did.
"I might take a walk at the park if that's okay." I said. "I don't want to leave you watching all the kids too long."
"I didn't want you to come to help watch the kids. I just wanted you to be with us."
That made me smile inside.
We do not have a perfect marriage. Neither one of us are perfect. We don't always agree. But I am grateful for the partnership in marriage with my husband. We don't really have assigned roles, we just help each other and the family as needed. I am grateful for a husband who is involved and helpful. An extra bonus is he lets me cry about uneaten squash with only a small laugh and then he tries to make me feel better.
I layed face down, a few tears had spilled onto the sheets in front of me and my mascara, the only makeup I was wearing, had smeared a little under my eyes. I looked a little bit of a mess. But the crying kids, dirty house, and time being a few hours after 4 p.m. was obvious in my face. He already knew.
"How was your day?" He asked anyway.
"It was hard," I said. "The kids screamed and fussed, complained, asked me for things all day, what to do, and were all over the place. I also watched a few extra kids for a while too, although that wasn't too bad. And I think I have a sinus infection and overdid it."
"I'm sorry." He said.
He had been working extra hours at work and so I was trying really hard to have him come home to not a complete mess-physically or emotionally.
"I saw you made squash." He said.
I had already fed the kids their dinner since he was a little late coming home and I never got around to giving them squash. I called it good with the spaghetti and green beans.
"I know. I like squash." I said, remembering how none of it had been touched. "But I was too tired to eat it."
I started crying again.
Matthew let out a light laugh.
I looked at him. And finally, realizing how it sounded to have started crying over uneaten squash, while at the same time feeling like someone was caring and listening to my day, I smiled and maybe had a teeny giggle.
Matthew took care of the kids that evening while I took a warm bath and tried to get my emotions in place a little more.
I remembered one of the first conversations I had with him about family when we were dating. This was a very important topic and he started telling me his feelings about it.
"I want to do well in my career, but my family comes first. I want to make sure I have enough time to spend with my family." The conversation went on a little and then we hung up.
Dang.
He said exactly what I was wanting--someone who wanted to do well in their career but not at the expense of their family. I didn't want someone who just wanted to make a lot of money. I wanted someone who wanted to spend a lot of time with our family.
Matthew calls every single day on his way home from work.
"How are you? Do you need me to pick up anything on the way home?" are questions he always asks. And even though he knows what my answer to the "How are you question" is probably going to be, he asks anyway.
I try to sound positive even when the kids are screaming in the background and pulling on my legs. I try to not let all of the emotions of the day out on that one answer that I could give him. Sometimes it is hard, because someone is actually caring and asking me and asking me at probably the hardest or one of the hardest times of day.
After our crazy dinner every night, Matthew takes the three little boys and gives them a bath and gets their jammies on. I usually do dishes and then relax. Sometimes I help put on the jammies, but he almost does all the bedtime stuff by himself. There are times when even though I feel quite exhausted, I still try to help get them in bed, because Matthew has also had a long day without breaks. I think I have only given the little boys less than 10 baths in their lives. I hardly ever help brush their teeth (this week excluded) that I do not even know what color toothbrush each of them has. And when I asked Eli last night when I bravely volunteered so Matthew could rest, Eli lied and stole John's toothbrush. I don't know if it is lying at 23 months, but I think he knew it wasn't his, but wanted to try the red toothbrush instead of the blue one. John didn't like that idea.
I make dinner most of the time, but somedays I have had a little person following me around the kitchen, trying to get things out of the fridge, and crying, and so cooking has been difficult. On those days Matthew comes home and cheerfully decides he will make dinner. He makes a great omelet and we all love it. He also makes a great ham fried rice. I remember one time he so enthusiastically decided to make pumpkin pancakes. We were all pretty hungry and it was getting late. After he had made quite a large batch, it was finally time to taste one. They looked delicious. He took a bite and spit it out in the trash. He stared at me with a sickened look.
"What?" I asked.
Matthew went to the cupboard. He pulled out the spices. "Uhh, I think I put Cumin in instead of Cinnamon. Do you want to try one to see how bad it is?"
I thought of how quickly he had just spit his bite out into the trash.
"No thanks." I said.
"In my defense," he said holding up both the Cumin and the Cinnamon, "They look quite the same. It's quite easy to mistake them."
I paused. "Except that one says Cumin and the other says Cinnamon."
He stared at me. I smiled a little. I think we ended up having cereal that night.
Matthew will take the kids to the park on the weekends to give me a break. He will take one or two with him when he goes on shopping trips. He has taken all of the older four when the twins were younger. He came back one day.
"How was it?" I asked. I would not have taken all four shopping.
"It was okay." He answered.
I didn't see how it could be okay, or where he could have put the twins and the food and watched Mary and Nathan.
"Except John was trying to eat the celery and bananas that I put in the cart and the twins were screaming for a bit of it, and trying to throw things out of the cart..." I don't remember the rest.
I guess that counts as okay...
Matthew bought Nathan and Mary a baseball hat and Nathan a glove so Mary could use Nathan's old glove and took them out to play baseball at a field near our house. He has a sheepish look as he showed me the hats. Matthew is not a spender and even spending a little extra money on hats was something that probably stretched him a little. But he loves spending times with his kids.
He helps clean on the weekends and spent a few years cleaning the bathrooms almost every single Saturday with Mary and Nathan until he felt they could clean it themselves. I never volunteered for this line of work.
Matthew doesn't love doing dishes. I do most of them, but I don't mind, because he does bathrooms most of the time.
Matthew took the kids to a park this last weekend. I was possibly going to stay home and rest from a little cold I had, but Matthew turned to me. "Do you want to come?" He asked.
I did.
"I might take a walk at the park if that's okay." I said. "I don't want to leave you watching all the kids too long."
"I didn't want you to come to help watch the kids. I just wanted you to be with us."
That made me smile inside.
We do not have a perfect marriage. Neither one of us are perfect. We don't always agree. But I am grateful for the partnership in marriage with my husband. We don't really have assigned roles, we just help each other and the family as needed. I am grateful for a husband who is involved and helpful. An extra bonus is he lets me cry about uneaten squash with only a small laugh and then he tries to make me feel better.
In a day of being a Mom
These are things I learned or practiced today by being a Mom.
1. How to read a story or two to two two year olds and one one year old, while trying to keep the one year old from turning the page every few seconds.
2. How to try very hard not to get upset or talk too loudly while listening to one of my children argue with me for a while.
3. How to motivate and encourage a child for twenty or so minutes while they work on some homework and I am there helping mostly for support.
4. How to effectively manage time and resources by creatively arranging dishes in my dishwasher so they all fit.
5. Folding piles (literally) of laundry while being reminded that I do this because I love my family and do not want them to stink.
6. How to practice and show kindness to a child who was sad.
7. How to learn to practice and deal with continuous and often screaming and fussing from a child who doesn't always communicate their feelings. Really, it seems like most of these deal with patience in a way.
8. How to remember how a child feels, and that they don't always know how to work out or understand all their emotions yet, that they can be very sensitive to their parents' words and expressions, etc., and to be aware and thoughtful to their sensitivities and what is really important to them.
9. How to practice (still learning his one) how to be a good chef and make something good and sort of healthy for dinner while learning to not expect exclamations of great praise or even gratitude, when in fact, the opposite of those are often given. Matthew does say thank you often at least. :)
10. How to give to my children and try to be patient with them when all I want to do is lie down and they don't want to let me.
11. How a bathroom break is not a break, or a deterrent for kids. Questions, fussing, and/or tantrums can still commence.
12. How to share in a child's excitement as they reached a goal they wanted and worked hard towards.
13. How to force myself to nudge, remind, and ask children to do a chore, their laundry, or pick up after themselves when I know beforehand that just doing it myself is sometimes easier than the fight, or often hearing the fussing, but then my kids won't learn to work and so I choose the more-often-than-not fight.
14. How to think/ponder/pray for ways to help a specific child with an individual problem.
15. How to remember and remind myself not to be too busy or ready to do the next job that I miss the smiles, cuddles, or the special moments.
16. How to not lose it or be too impatient when my 3-year old tells me that they colored on the walls downstairs, when they fuss when I turn off the TV, when they constantly ask for snacks, Ioad turns, or shows, when they kick and wiggle as you change their diaper because you love them and don't want their bums to hurt from diaper rash, etc.
17. Realizing how lucky and unworthy you are to be raising this child when they stare at you with wide eyes, bright and innocent, and you know how many mistakes you make even though you're trying so hard.
18. Knowing you can be told what to do when your baby knows you think they are adorable because they are, and they smile and beg and you might give into that extra treat or cuddles before nap time, or whatever it may be. At times, this might apply to your other children as well. :)
19. Hoping that you can drench in the beautiful, small, fun moments of life, remembering what is most important and WHO is most important and that sometimes, nothing else really matters in comparison.
1. How to read a story or two to two two year olds and one one year old, while trying to keep the one year old from turning the page every few seconds.
2. How to try very hard not to get upset or talk too loudly while listening to one of my children argue with me for a while.
3. How to motivate and encourage a child for twenty or so minutes while they work on some homework and I am there helping mostly for support.
4. How to effectively manage time and resources by creatively arranging dishes in my dishwasher so they all fit.
5. Folding piles (literally) of laundry while being reminded that I do this because I love my family and do not want them to stink.
6. How to practice and show kindness to a child who was sad.
7. How to learn to practice and deal with continuous and often screaming and fussing from a child who doesn't always communicate their feelings. Really, it seems like most of these deal with patience in a way.
8. How to remember how a child feels, and that they don't always know how to work out or understand all their emotions yet, that they can be very sensitive to their parents' words and expressions, etc., and to be aware and thoughtful to their sensitivities and what is really important to them.
9. How to practice (still learning his one) how to be a good chef and make something good and sort of healthy for dinner while learning to not expect exclamations of great praise or even gratitude, when in fact, the opposite of those are often given. Matthew does say thank you often at least. :)
10. How to give to my children and try to be patient with them when all I want to do is lie down and they don't want to let me.
11. How a bathroom break is not a break, or a deterrent for kids. Questions, fussing, and/or tantrums can still commence.
12. How to share in a child's excitement as they reached a goal they wanted and worked hard towards.
13. How to force myself to nudge, remind, and ask children to do a chore, their laundry, or pick up after themselves when I know beforehand that just doing it myself is sometimes easier than the fight, or often hearing the fussing, but then my kids won't learn to work and so I choose the more-often-than-not fight.
14. How to think/ponder/pray for ways to help a specific child with an individual problem.
15. How to remember and remind myself not to be too busy or ready to do the next job that I miss the smiles, cuddles, or the special moments.
16. How to not lose it or be too impatient when my 3-year old tells me that they colored on the walls downstairs, when they fuss when I turn off the TV, when they constantly ask for snacks, Ioad turns, or shows, when they kick and wiggle as you change their diaper because you love them and don't want their bums to hurt from diaper rash, etc.
17. Realizing how lucky and unworthy you are to be raising this child when they stare at you with wide eyes, bright and innocent, and you know how many mistakes you make even though you're trying so hard.
18. Knowing you can be told what to do when your baby knows you think they are adorable because they are, and they smile and beg and you might give into that extra treat or cuddles before nap time, or whatever it may be. At times, this might apply to your other children as well. :)
19. Hoping that you can drench in the beautiful, small, fun moments of life, remembering what is most important and WHO is most important and that sometimes, nothing else really matters in comparison.
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