The truth about large families

Everyone knows how I adore my kids and how proud I feel when I tell people that I have five children. But here's my dirty little secret: I have days, sometimes stretches of days, when I want to hang up my motherhood hat and take a vacation from it.
This is something that I have guilt over but it's the truth. There are times when I don't care what Laura made on her vocabulary test and I don't want to run letters and sounds with Julia. Emma is probably not potty trained because I refuse to toil away at it so I wait until it comes from her. My house is peaceful when the older boys are out and if I have to nag Chase one more time about saving money I may explode.
The thing is, most of the time I am filled with joy about these duties. They give my life form and purpose. And then there's days like today, when I am so sick of pre-school television and have no desire whatsoever to go meet with Julia's teacher and the idea of no school tomorrow and all 3 home the entire day fills me with something like dread. I am feeling outnumbered and tired and I wonder what it's all about. It is true that I have no time carved out for myself. The idea of going over to mom's when Patrik gets home from work appeals to me but then I feel badly because I feel I don't see enough of the kids as it is.
I have this exquisite fantasy about packing up and running away from home. Just getting in the car and heading to a beach cottage somewhere to read books under a beach umbrella and drink frosty Absolut and cranberry (with a lime) and not even glancing at the clock or television. This fantasy usually pops up after nights like last night, which was Julia's birthday. It was lovely UNTIL...Emma threw a fit because Julia wanted to play with some of her own gifts (and this after being more than generous about sharing). Emma's noise level increased to a decible only dogs and mothers can hear. Chris was here for a bit and brought 2 friends and they were loud. I looked around this tiny house and thought, "Calgon, take me away..."
I am outnumbered. Even when the boys aren't here. And I'm only human. Patrik is a great help on weekends: he cooks, cleans house, watches all three girls and works in the yard. But he is smart enough to take time for himself every Wednesday to play soccer and I know it revives him. I wish I had it in me to go play, but even when I say I am going to, I don't. I'm just too tired. What I really want to do is get a hotel room and sleep for 2 days. And order room service.
I suppose that this isn't just about being the mom to a large family. I imagine most moms feel this way at one time or another and that brings me some comfort. I borrow self-help books from the library about taking me time and caring for self and then don't have time to read them (or energy).
When we go to Key West on the 7th I am going to take a night for me. I swear to God. I am going to take my mother-in-law up on her offer to babysit (she is very generous about this), I am going to send Patrik out with his Slovak friends, and I am going to sit by the pool with a novel and music on. ALONE. Because I really really need to recharge. I know I am no good to my family when I feel this disconnected and run down. It's the old airplane rule: mothers put your oxygen mask on first, then attend to your children. Well, my oxygen mask is dusty from lack of use. Instead of running away, maybe I just need to put it on.

On being Julia

On Wednesday the 26th Julia will turn 6. I don't know how this happened, since of course she was born last week. Be that as it may, here she is, this lovely, growing girl that is so different from any of my other children. Laura and Chris are quite alike in there mellow calm. Emma and Chase are more alike than I can even believe (think stubborn and opinionated and too smart for their own good [or mine!]). Then there's this Julia.
From the very begining she was different. She was born with a huge shock of ebony hair, a first and last for me. Everyone else was blonde. She completely mixed up her nights and days for weeks (read: no sleep for me for weeks!). And I worried about her, with her sweet little cherub face and gentle demeanor. I worried about the middle child stuff after Emma was born. I worried that she would feel too different compared to everyone else's towheaded glow. But she has suprised me. She is quite comfortable in her own skin. She doesn't feel compared to, and I hope she never does. She is not as quick as Laura at school, still has a little baby lisp in some of her speech, still has accidents at night every now and then. But she is the most loving of the 5. She would rather cuddle on the couch with me or daddy (or Gram, above) and watch a movie or read than almost anything else. She still likes a kiss goodbye at parent drop off (Laura is out of the car like a shot). She literally sings upon waking in the morning which has more than once brought me to tears of love. My heart aches with adoration for this child. She dances and sings and is just full of joy.

So it has occurred to me that the person doing the comparing to her siblings was me all along. I am not proud of this. It just is what it is. And I don't do it any more. Because what makes her different and unique is what makes her Julia. Thank God she remains that lovey little brunette with the green eyes and the drive to sing songs. She hardly ever complains. In fact the other night I was getting in the shower and Patrik was washing the girls' hair in the tub when I heard her burst into tears (Emma had confiscated a toy of hers) and it occurred to me that I hadn't heard her cry in so long it was like a foreign thing. Emma cries about everything from bedtime to not getting her way. Laura is a little drama queen at times and a sideways look will set her off. But Julia is just as content as can be. Truly. I pray that this will remain the case for a long time. She will get her heart broken, people will be (and have been) not very nice to her. But she is still gloriously happy. She is easily comforted and eager to be a part of the group. She is a star.

Happy birthday, Julia baby. You light up my life. And I hope you never change.

Emma the vulture

Saturday night I came home from work and though I am usually too tired to have dinner, I wanted a barbecue ham sandwich. Emma, who had already brushed her teeth and was for all intents and purposes ready for bed, appeared out of nowhere. She does this every time anyone gets ready to sit down and eat, even if her own dinner was half an hour earlier. It's so bad that I have found myself waiting untiil she goes to bed to eat. I am more firm than her daddy in saying no to this behavior but she still does it. This night she sat on the counter and watched me make a sandwich. "Can I have that?" she asked. I eyed her warily. "No," I said, "You already brushed your teeth." She thought about this for a minute and was not deterred. "But I like that." "You don't even know what this is," I told her. "It's whale." This gave her only brief pause. "I like whale," she assured me. I started giggling. "How do you know? You've never had whale." "Oh yes, "she chimed. "I do so like whale." "Whale is only for grown ups," I informed her. In the background Patrik started to crack up, telling me to cut it out. "I like whale," she repeated, very sure. In the end she ended up with a plate of her own, and to this day is positive that she does indeed like whale. Proving that not only will the kid eat anything, but I can convince her of anything as well. Except that kids can't eat whale. Or that she should be potty trained.
I am stunned that Easter is almost here. The older I get the more rapidly time flies, which is kind of frightening. I mean, it was just Christmas, for crying out loud. Then someone at work said yesterday that Christmas is only 9 months away. Sheesh. Julia will be 6 the Wednesday after Easter and I look at her in amazement. If last Christmas was only yesterday, then this beauty was born just a few months ago. They just keep growing no matter how much I want them to stop it. To remain my snuggly little girls. *sigh*
Chase is staying with us right now which he hasn't done for any length of time for quite a while. I sincerely enjoy his company. He has matured into such a lovely young man and I find myself doubting that all the troubles we've had in the past are real. The girls adore him and Julia in particular has a little crush on him. It's quite charming. Christopher remains in Palm City, 20 minutes north of us, staying with his friend Greg and his mom and seems to truly be thriving. He leaves at the end of the month for his chorus trip to New York City and he's so excited. This time next year we will be gearing up for his high school graduation. Don't get me started on how that makes me feel....where has the time gone?
Laura is a social butterfly these days. She seems to have a new party to go to every week (much to Julia's dismay. She's quite jealous even though we have assured her that her time will come.) She is such a beautiful little girl who is transforming right before my eyes. Everyone loves her. She is a gentle soul. I am so very proud of her. I have warned Patrik that in about 9 years he better brace himself for 3 daughters in puberty and a wife going through menopause. He may have to move....
My dear brother Joe is having a hard time coming to terms with his cat's cancer diagnosis. Joe is single, a very lovey guy, and since he has no children of his own he is super-uncle to mine and his cat is his child. I have never loved a pet the way he loves his and I am sad that he has to go through this. He goes to see a specialist vet today, and I fear the news won't be good. I hope he knows how just wonderful he is. I treasure him, we all do.

*thinking of you, Uncle Tom and Aunt MaryLee*

A few of my favorite things

In the book "The Art Of Mending" by Elizabeth Berg there is a passage that descibes the scene surrounding a photo taken of the narrator and her younger sister when they were children at Easter time:
**
"I remember that the moment the photo was taken, I dropped Caroline's hand and ran toward the car. "Wait for me!" she called, but I did not. I claimed the coveted seat by the window and then wiped the hand that had touched Caroline against the skirt of my new dress...over and over again. I think I might have used my purse to try to block anyone from seeing. But I can't be sure that is not just my horrified adult self, editing. Well, yes. That is what it is. Because now I remember that when Caroline got in the car she was carrying both her own purse and mine, which I'd left behind. She held it out to me, all hope, saying excitedly, "Here, Laura, you forgot this! You forgot our new purse!" "I don't want it, "I said, staring straight ahead, "I don't even like it." It was the possessive pronoun I objected to. From the corner of my eye, I saw her hesitate, then put the purse gently down on the seat between us. I saw her straighten it just the tiniest bit, then struggle to move herslf into a comfortable position without distrubing anything."
**

In that passage the girls are maybe 5 and 7. It breaks my heart every time I read it because of its honesty. I want to pick that little Caroline up and smother her in my arms and tell her she is perfect just the way she is. This is why I love Berg's writing. She takes life and puts it on a page with the soulfullness of what is true. I have read her "Talk Before Sleep" probably 2 dozen times and it still brings me to tears. There is something to be said about the lives of women, and she says it beautifully.
I also enjoy Jodi Piccoult for taking events and placing a new perspective on them. "My Sister's Keeper" is outstanding. And Anita Shreve, her novels all full of historic reference, is so unususal, I am never sure of the ending even when I think I am sure: "The Pilot's Wife" is great, and I think the title is "The Last Thing He Said" but the ending was such a shock I threw the book across the room in disbelief then ran to get it and re-read the last paragraphs to be sure it really ended that way.
I have visited postsecret.com every week since I checked a book out of the library with the featured post cards. The premise: we all have secrets and some are just screaming to get out. The man in charge of post secret calls for people to mail postcards with their deepest secrets creatively placed on them and he posts a new set every Sunday. A natural voyeur, I am fascinated by these.
My favorite blogger is Catherine Newman, who hosts a parenting blog on Wondertime.com called the Dali Mama. It is full of the sublime ups and downs of parenting small children and I applaud her honesty.
My brother Joe has worked exhaustively to document the fall of Grossinger's Resort in the Catskills of New York and the tribute is lovingly displayed on his website joe4speed.com.
My new wish is to have my favorite photgraphs transformed on mydavinci.com. They take your favorite and can do anything from a pencil sketch to an oil painting of it. My birthday is coming..... ;-)

My favorite thing in the world is spending time with my beloved family from the kids to cousins I hardly am ever lucky enough to get to see. But some I saw this past weekend and was so touched by the fact that no matter how long we go between visits, we have the kind of family that can just pick up where we left off as if one of us had just run to the market instead of being separated by miles and years. I love you all.

ps. Thank you, Judy, for your kind words. I hoard them like the treasure they are.