It reads like a vent

Oh I sound so incredibly tiring when I say this but, yes, three kids make a person QUITE BUSY.  Ergo, the radio silence here.

The lovely Tree Town Gal has given me a gentle nudge to provide some semblance of what’s been going as of late here at Testosterone House.

This past week I’ve had 3? no- make that at least 4 – encounters with mothers of one or two kids who confide to me that, well, they’ve HAD IT.  They are overwhelmed.  They can’t seem to keep it together.  All concluded with the very predictable:  I don’t know how you do it with three- with twins.

Truth be told, I don’t know either…it’s a challenge to make it through each day intact and fed and clean and present to where we all need to be.  My husband helps a little.  My MIL helps too.  My longtime sitter, who has two jobs and children of her own, may or may not make it on the days she’s expected- she averages 6 hours a week to a formerly-agreed 12 and there’s not much I can do about that.  Beyond that, it’s all me.  All me.

Each day is different – though one absolute I’ve learned is that the MILLISECOND I mentally check out – the moment my mind wanders to tending to something other than the 3 dervishes before me – they will take over.  They take over, I lose control, and getting that control back is immeasurably difficult.  We’ll be engaged in happy song, the four of us taking a walk…life is calm, happy, dareIsay good.  Inevitably, my cell will ring and just as I’m forced to tend to other, necessary punchlist items of the day, my dear sweet children will unleash upon me bedlam of such magnitude that I’m forced to rush off the phone, clear them from the street, retrieve their t shirts and shoes, redress them, and somehow drag myself and them the remaining 1/4 mile home while they cling screaming to my legs begging me to HOLD YOU when I can’t even carry one in that situation because one’s balance becomes SCREWED when coping with three tantruming lilliputian cling-ons.

Yesterday, I practiced deep breathing in the car and was able to avoid releasing a primal scream to counter the incessant whining from the middle one because he wanted to hear Beyonce for the 5th time in a row while his brothers wailed for Barenaked Ladies.   This morning I woke up to black crayon all over the tv room wall and a kitchen sink plugged up and overflowing with water.  Thank God for Magic Eraser and towels.  Upon the discovery, I gave them my best HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? and shot evil glares their way.  They simply accused each other and smiled.  I left the mess and schlepped back here to the bed to type because cleaning it up now will grant me no net gain – while I clean they’d only hound me and at least here it’s quiet and I’m not being crawled upon.

This is the new everyday – the miracles I worked so hard for are now my daily demise.

I hear water running – brb.

Okay I’m back, 1:40 later.  They needed a bath after soaking themselves and the kitchen floor needed to be mopped.  Oh, and did I mention the dogs getting up on the counter to secure and rip open a big box of Cheezits along with the tub of fresh unsalted shelled pistachios I just bought for Smacky and paid $14.99 for at Whole Foods?  Yeah.  I used to love those mutts.  Now I’ve issued the edict that in the future we will no longer house animals.  Ever.

Forget what I said earlier about no net gain…at least I could have countered that kitchen offensive they just staged.

Did I mention my tv room smells like rotten milk?  And how fathers become overwhelmed FAR SOONER than mothers, and because mine has an automatic shutoff point I’m forced to issue directives to him to keep him engaged while thinking to myself why do you force me to sound like such a bitch with you?

The hubs is still out of work.  18 months now.  Yay us.

But seriously, all that aside, life is good.  Smacky is really showing signs of growing out of his spectrum diagnosis – we’re still investigating and keeping him in therapies but he’s made incredible progress and I’m so proud of him.  J and Z are still hilarious, talking up a storm now and will be graduating Early Intervention next week, testing with only the most minor of developmental issues.  We find out next Wednesday if they’ll be needing any therapies at preschool next year – I honestly doubt it and that makes me very happy.  This summer we will be playing things by ear – enjoying some downtime together, doing some daytrips and getting up to the lake as much as possible with friends and their kids.  I may enroll them in a camp for a week or two, but beyond that, I want them to imagine and run themselves silly and just BE.

As for me?  I’ll find time here and there to create and sew.  Even on our limited budget I’m finding ways to upgrade the new house and make it our own.  I enjoy time with my mommy friends and maybe my husband will find a way to take me out for a nice night (ah – sound bitter much there, Day? I kinda am – job or not, he could take me out once every six months.  Or year.  At least.).  Sigh. If I don’t plan it, it just won’t happen.

I’m still in therapy for PTSD over the way my kids came into this world.  It’s getting better (though still quite there – it’s hard work, purging that stuff), and along with that I’ve learned so much about myself – my attitude is different now.  I’m happier,  more assertive.  I’m less apologetic for my existence -less of a pushover – but yet feel somehow kinder toward people – more nurturing.  I’ve learned to draw clear boundaries without feeling badly or hurting myself in the process.  I’ve addressed some longstanding family issues and have come to a place of acceptance and even contentment in a very imperfect dynamic.

I still get infusion treatment twice a month – one day here at home, one day at the hospital.  My blood counts have been steady and, for me, healthy (t’sall  relative with PNH).  I’m able to keep up with the kids and the crazy schedule but do insist on sleeping for at least 8 hours a night, and that’s been very helpful in keeping me stable.   I do have episodes now and then but it’s nothing like the past when I spent just about every day coping with symptoms and fatigue.  I’m still careful and do my best to stay hydrated and eat well.   Also, I love not getting my periods…I actually thought I’d miss them after the (partial) hysterectomy, but no…not at all.  I’m very glad to be done with menstruation and while we’re at it, all things reproductive.  I’m just about 3 1/2 years past the last of our fertility issues and I truly am over it.  I’m changed because of it, but no longer upset by it.  It happened.  In the end we got more than we hoped for.   We were lucky.  End of chapter.

It’s all about duality, this crazy life – and though not comfortable for many, it’s okay to be stressed and tired yet centered and grateful at the same time.  It really is.  So that’s where I’m at: taking things one day at a time, learning to meditate, learning to love better and find the beauty in the moment, learning to let go and trust that we’re right where we need to be right now.

Smacky turns 5 on the 16th and J & Z turn 3 on the 21st.  Big party next Wednesday here in our backyard will involve a giant bouncy, a tent, pizza and lots of cake and ice cream. Oh, and before I forget – this year, Smacky would LIKE IT IF WE WOULD PLEASE SING.  Oh yes baby – we’ve been waiting 5 long years for that!!  Can you imagine?  No ear plugs needed!

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