Crazy-ass family

You just can't make this stuff up

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Ooooooh...

Okay I am too old for this. For an idea of what I did last night, see the post below. It was my friend Alisa's birthday and we ate at Poncho Villa's and, after a brief stop a friend's place, danced the night away.
Okay they probably danced the night away. I begged off at a pathetic 1am. It was a great night with wonderful friends, but you know what? I'm sad to say that I think I'm too old for this. Maybe that's not true, though. I hope not because wow, I'm having fun. I'd done a group reading with friends the night before, and I think the two nights in a row thing is what I'm actually too old for. And having to get up early with three excited boys afterwards adds to it. My body hurts, my eyes are swollen, and my feet...oooooh, my feet. Interestingly, though, that spot in my back that's been hurting since the last time I went out dancing seems to have been cured last night by the very thing that caused it in the first place...
It's been a lovely weekend so far. We took the kids to the mall yesterday and ate at the food court. Though it's not ideal ambiance-wise, everybody gets what they want and Liam's screaming is barely noticed above the din. We also visited my sister and her family, and I got to change my new niece's poopy diaper twice! The joy! Um, for those of you with girl babies - my admiration for you is huge. Not having been blessed with babies of the female variety, I was surprised at the intricacies of changing my niece. Without going into detail, I'll just say this: it's harder.
Liam, incidentally, is loving walking. He's been more cheerful ever since he mastered that typical toddler walk - hands held tentatively up, arms at 90 degree angles, halting steps occasionally degenerating to a shambling sideways quickstep. It's entertaining to watch, and a relief, too, as his frustration seems to have been replaced by joy (and tempered by a rather destructive sort of curiosity, I might add).
I'm amazed that, even though Liam's my third child, I am still struck with that odd and somehow unexpected shock of clashing emotions as I watch him grow from a baby to a toddler. I'm proud. I'm exuberant. I'm so, so sad. In all likelihood, Liam is my last baby. Oh, that feels so final! But most likely true...and it sort of tears at my heart to watch him stop being my baby. I think I'll never forget the last time he breastfed...for it'll also be the last time I ever breastfeed. And his firsts are also lasts, somehow. First steps were witnessed with a sort of bittersweet joy...never again will I see a baby of mine take his first steps.
There's that tiny little voice inside of me, though, that pushes back when I have these thoughts. That voice that has always been there, telling me I can have more kids! I am still young (though my feet will tell you differently today)! Still fertile! Capable!
But that voice is quiet now. Where she was a vivacious cheerleader in my younger baby-making days, she is now sitting at the back of the crowd, half-heartedly waving a big foam finger that says, "Your ovaries rock - still!" on it while eating a hot dog.
So perhaps she'll slowly lapse into silence. She'll realize the game is over and make her way back home.
Well hasn't this just been an incomprehensible jumble of thoughts.
I shall leave you with a little revelation that I had last night. As I've mentioned before, I'm going through a bit of a hard time, personally. I don't think I've ever sustained such a high level of stress for such a long period of time. But isn't it incredible that, even now - especially now - I can look around myself and find myself so blessed? I have wonderful friends, a good job, three amazing kids, and I'm happier with myself than I've ever been. I'm so thankful for all of this.
Maybe, someday, I can stop wanting more...

3 Comments:

At 11:52 AM, Blogger Lynanne said...

I don't know if we ever stop wanting. In my case, I thought we were done after two kids. As the years rolled on, the sadness turned from a stabbing pain that tore tears from me every time to a dull ache mixed with a certain amount of contentment. Oh, I still wanted another child but as the milestones became further spaced apart (instead of the overwhelming flood of the infant/toddler era), I was able to relax and breathe a little. Gradually, I enjoyed having more time for myself and family as the children became more independent.

Then, I threw my emotions into turmoil by having a third. I still have a hard time with the concept of a fourth. I'm feeling old. I've got grey hairs Am I insane?

There never are easy answers, are there? Hopefully by pondering these issues you can find some sort of personal peace. Hopefully as time goes on you'll find a balance between what you have and what you desire (whether you decide that balance is at 3 kids or 4, 5 or even 6). I feel for you. Good luck!

 
At 1:17 PM, Blogger Unknown said...

Having had two girls before I changed a boy's diaper, I humbly disagree! Girls are easy! You don't have to hunt so hard. Getting peed on is just not the same.

 
At 6:43 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I too feel sad every time I watch Sasha achieve a new milestone...there's that pang of knowing that this specific skill will be outshadowed next week and next month and next year and eventually, he'll be calling me once a month from college, but only when he needs money. He'll still be my baby but I won't be able to carry him around and make him laugh by eating his fingers or saying boo or letting him pull my hair...

And he's my first! The feeling must be amplified for you, knowing and/or believing that Liam is your last.

I'm not sure that eventually being able to not want more is the answer...there's a fine line between peace and stagnation...A flowing river with lots of stones and bubbles is healthy, if unpredictable...whereas a pool of water can appear peaceful and quiet but fester under the surface...

Jill xo

 

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