Full

As I was sitting with my 3 year old, I have to admit that I wasn't being 100% present. I had a lot on my mind and was concerned about things. I was worried about money issues, about the future and how well we were caring for our little guys. Although lately it seems I meet a lot of parents who don't appear to have any financial concerns, I know we're not the only ones struggling every pay check to make ends meet. We're not irresponsible people and we know how to manage our money. You just can't budget for twins, hospital bills, expensive formula, food thickeners, bad plumbing in the new-to-us house, and so forth. We've had more than our share of the unexpected and it's eaten all the reserves we had so responsibly secured. It weighs on us but we're becoming more and more skilled at living on as little as necessary but, at times, it's hard not feel beaten down and like a leach on our sweet and generous parents. It's hard to feel like the grown-up parents that we have become while we're calling home asking for money. We intend to get past this. It just isn't happening as quickly as we'd like.

So, with emotions and thoughts such as these beating around my tired brain I finally stop and hear what Neil is saying to me. Without any prompting he is saying, "Neil's tummy is full." I'm not sure what inspired him to say that but the impact of his words poured through me and warmed my heart and eased my spirit. I looked at all my sons and acknowledged that all their tummies were full, that they were happy and felt loved and that was all the wealth we needed. All I want is for my babies to have full tummies and that will make my heart full of peace.

Interestingly, Chris experienced a similar feeling a day or two prior and he shared it with me the evening after Neil told me about his tummy. After coming home from a hard day at work, we were all out in the backyard horsing around. Neil and Chris were pushing Evan in a toy car around and around the yard. Neil and Evan were squealing with pleasure while Dylan was getting into some kind of trouble as usual. He too put aside his feelings of being poor and realized that we had the wealth that truly counted.

So, we'll take care of our 3 little treasures. We'll invest in them and nurture them and we'll be richer than our wildest dreams.

Piece of my soul

I've been assigned by my husband to take a moment. I can't imagine why I might need one. The last few hours have been filled with needy babies, ridiculous tantrums, pokes and jabs - some unintentional and others quite on purpose. After pulling myself off the kitchen floor (where I had been bottle feeding the twins), replacing my glasses that had just been ripped roughly off my face by a smiling Dylan and pulling my disheveled and drooled on hair back out of my face I spoke toward the sky the following, motherly comment addressed to no child in particular: "Yes, please take yet one more piece of my soul."

Ok, so that was a bit extreme. Of course, after having said it, I looked over at Chris who just laughed and so did I. What a motherly thing to say. Actually, it is quite motherly in that I know I'm not the first mom to feel a bit stripped of self-hood while wiggly, parasitic (albeit adorable) babies, crawl, pull and harass every reachable part of my body. Slimed, bitten, scorned, yelled at, whined to, needed, demanded, needed, demanded, wanted. It can be a bit much at times and, at those times, it's hard to have the best perspective so it was understandable that I needed to say, "yes, please take yet one more piece of my soul."

It was such a naughty thing to say and so crummy of me that it felt super to say it. I almost felt a little weight was pulled off me (no, it wasn't Dylan climbing off of me - he was being distracted by his daddy). So, I walked out of the room and into the computer room and shut the door. Quiet. Well, except for the muffled sounds of children on the other side of the door. Perhaps if I can stay in here for just a few more minutes, I can regain my mental integrity and allow my nerves to feel unstimulated for just enough time for them to relax and be at peace even if it is just for a moment.

All the peace-love-carry my baby all the time-never let them cry-type-moms will likely frown at my detachment. That's ok because I'll take their criticism any day - it's nothing compared to my normal world so bring it on. I'd love to see a mother of 3 boys all under the age of 3 carry her babies all the time. Wouldn't that be a riot? Seriously, though, if a mom finds that kind of parenting satisfying the more power to them. Of course, I still want to see one juggling 3 boys like mine. [Devilish laughter]

So, I'm feeling a little more refreshed and ready to face the night time madness (a/k/a bath and night-night time). Perhaps a nice cold brew might help take the edge off a little more then I'll be able to sit back (it's hard to do when they're climbing all over you but I mean this figuratively) and drink in the beauty (not the beer - I only want one) of my children who actually fill my soul when they're not ripping it to shreds.