I am back - I will be resuming my blog here at blogspot

In case you are following, I decided to move back here to blogspot. The other website wasn't working out for me. If you are reading this, thanks for sticking by me.

Beautiful Inconvenience

I am sitting in a clean house.

Well, I am sitting in a clean upstairs of the house. I am  ignoring the 6 loads of laundry and dirty bathroom calling my name downstairs. So, I am sitting in a mostly clean house thanks to my in-laws who took the two girls on a little trip to Northern BC for the weekend. The boys, the second half of the mess machine have been outside with their dad all morning so I could clean. Then Dad snuck them into the basement to put them down for their naps, so my upstairs may be clean for another two glorious hours. I laugh at myself to think howhappy I am for these two hours of cleanliness and order. 

You think I am crazy? Me too. Who cares if the house is clean? Memories are being made. True, true, yes, this is true. Some of those memories are super fun and cute, some of them include children eating garbage, me walking around with something unmentionable stuck between my toes, and carpets that we paid good money for becoming the victim of a little game we call "mash our food into the floor". We are rich with memories around here.

My good friend just had a baby boy. I got to go and visit them at her house the other day. I walked in to see baby sleeping sweetly on mommy's lap. My friend, a third time mom looked up and smiled the smile of a new mommy. "I don't remember this hurting so much" she said looking down at her new little treasure, "I am an emotional mess" she continued "I forgot this part, I just remembered the smell of a newborn and the amazing feeling of a new baby nuzzling into my neck". I smiled at her and thought, "I feel that way about every stage of parenting".

I look back and remember those sweet first smiles, and kisses. I remember the first times the kids held my hand because they wanted to. First words, first bites (of food and of the other children), first times they said "I looooovfe you mahhhhmmy". My goodness it has been incredible. I look back at pictures and videos and think "That was amazing, these kids are growing so fast.

Then I zoom back to now. These days are endless sometimes. I just get started on one thing and I need to go referee a war that has broken out over a toy that nobody wanted 5 seconds ago, now they ALL want it. Someone needs a diaper change, all day these little creatures need to eat and stay hydrated. We get dressed, we spill, we change, more laundry. I get the kitchen clean and turn around 10 minutes later and the sink is full of colourful plates, cups, and bowls again. We have a brand new dining room table that is already covered with fork dents. We painted all of the walls recently, which is a big job for two busy parents, now these freshly painted walls are also freshly decorated with sticky handprints.

When we go out, grandmas and grandpas smile at us, watch us while we interact with our children and sometimes even make their way over to talk to us. "I miss my babies" some will say. "It goes so fast", "Enjoy it while you have it, before you know it, it will be over"

I usually smile and agree. I don't think I really understood what they were saying when it first started happening. These days feel so long, and sometimes they would catch me in a crazy moment when a toddler was having a full scale meltdown over not getting new nail polish. That moment doesn't go by so fast.  But when I look back, I think I may be beginning to understand why they say it. 

Emma, our first baby, will be five next month. Her kindergarten uniform is hanging in the closet, she starts in September. I can't see her baby face or her chubby knees anymore. She has grown into her long legs and beautiful little girl face now. I have to watch videos to remember her funny, scratchy voice and her sweet baby giggle. 

Alina, my 3.5 year old says things like "I in a sticky situation" as she hides under a laundry basket,  and is known to run through the house at random times saying "SUPER ALINA! I am off to save the world!" and you know? I think she just might.

Before they left on their trip, I told them that I would miss them and they hugged me tight and said "We will be ok mommy, don't miss us too much". And while I confess the slower pace is nice, I miss their little voices around here.

Our boys are two now. They talk to us in beautiful, choppy sentences, with mixed up words. When they learn to speak clearly I will be forevermore unemployed in the "translate what in the world my child is saying" department. 

I will never have newborns again. I will never feel what my friend is feeling right now with her new little man on her lap. I miss it already. I see now that no one will ever love me or want me as much as these four little people love and want me right now. 

Even still, these days are undeniably hard. My life is not my own. I don't decide how long I sleep, where I go or how long it will take for me to get there. Nevermind that it takes us an hour to go anywhere.  My house is LOUD ALL THE TIME. The kids have little ride-on cars that they use like Nascar racers so I have bruises on my heels from getting rammed into at full speed. I have never needed so much patience and willingness to set aside what I want and need for the sake of someone else as much as I do now. 

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

The days are crazy and frustrating sometimes, but the hard is swallowed up in the beauty of the responsibility of knowing it is mine to shape these incredible little souls. I love to hear them thank a stranger without being prompted, to watch them play and navigate conflict with their little friends, or to spontaneously hug one of their siblings (even if it ends in a stranglehold). To me, it is one of the most precious sights I will see this side of heaven.

Remind us, dear friends, whose children are grown. These days seem long, but they fly. Remind us how important they are. We need you.

Ok, reflection time done. I have laundry to do. Thanks for stopping by.