What's the alternative? By Liimu

I know a woman who is raising nine kids by herself. They are all seemingly well-behaved, happy and active. And I wonder how she does it. I have four now, and although I know that with the newborn this is probably the hardest it will ever be, but there's a part of me that has to wonder whether part of the secret is to know what to let go of.

There is a lot of yelling in my house right now. And believe me when I say it's fairly evenly distributed amongst the lot of us, including the baby. There are heart-to-heart talks where we try to logically reason with our girls about why they should stop bickering so much, stop talking back, start helping out, start being more independent. They openly admit that they're acting out because they're jealous of the baby. While I appreciate their candor and their self-awareness, it doesn't help this constant headache I have from all the attention-seeking behavior. One child yelling at the top of her lungs the lyrics to Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" in what vaguely resembles a singing voice would be bad enough. Multiply it by three, vary the songs and the singing ability and add stomping with all your weight (including a 4'8" 8 year old) and you start to get the picture.

I have a friend in recovery who I sponsor who recently drank. This morning she said she didn't want to do AA anymore. I completely understand why - AA is hard, it takes continual attention, commitment, discipline and work. It requires you to go deep within yourself and constantly work on improving yourself and the way you interact with the world. It requires a higher standard of behavior and accountability than most of the world adheres to. (Or maybe it just seems that way because I'm a reformed drunk. Maybe the rest of the world has been being well-behaved and accountable all along and it just requires a higher standard than I or anyone in my sphere ever adhered to.)

But here's the thing. The alternative is so much worse. Essentially, for me anyway, the alternative is to die (at best) or to live an angry, stagnant life, at worst. That's sort of like the situation we have here. Many days, I don't want to do this the way I'm doing it. I don't want to keep trying to figure out how to engage with my kids in a healthy way, how to raise them to be responsible, loving, spiritual beings. It's hard work and it makes me so tired. But what is the alternative? Unthinkable. So, I face another day, doing the next right thing in front of me.

So here's my questions to all you moms out there. How do you do it? What are your secrets for keeping the peace? Keeping your cool? What do you do beyond gritting your teeth and muscling through? I go to therapy. Off I go. Hope to hear your ideas.

Week 26 My Life...by Liimu

If they would just stop arguing…three girls, constant chatter, constant arguing and bickering…but when they get along it’s so much fun to watch. So much fun to hang out with them. I am really glad to be their mom and really looking forward to watching them grow up. And right now, as they are all snuggled in my bed watching Animal Planet, I feel pretty proud and serene.
This morning, I was talking to my sister – a mom of two boys – and began to realize just how unprepared I am for this little man about to join our ranks. I have no idea how to change a little baby boy’s diaper, other than to know that it is going to be very different than changing a girl. I’ve never had anyone pee in my face, for one thing. I also have NO boy clothes, have no boy linens, no boy toys (hold your jokes, please)…heck, we don’t even have any front runners for names right now. (OK, we do…but hubby won’t admit it.)

Part of the interesting challenge of having three children and being pregnant with a fourth is that life is happening at such a rapid pace taking care of them all (not to mention working and taking care of our marriage and ourselves), there’s not a whole lot of time leftover to prepare for the new one.

Along those lines, I thought I might share a week in the life:

Wednesday:

School let out at 11 am due to a sudden power outage. I was in a meeting from 11 to 12, and when I got out of it, there were 8 messages on my cell phone, including four frantic messages from my 8-year old who had managed to borrow a phone from a friend on the schoolbus. Dad, our sitter and I all ran around in circles and converged on the bus at the same time.
After getting a solid couple hours of work in, we take Amelia to CHOP (again) to see the geneticist. Four hours later, after painful bloodwork and a trip to the hospital cafeteria, we are finally on our way home. My night is just beginning, as I have to make up the hours of work I missed due to the early dismissal and late dr’s appointment.

Thursday:

Midwife appointment. I spent 30 minutes waiting, 5 minutes being examined, and 30 minutes deconstructing why I’ve gained so much weight in the past six weeks. Our brilliant conclusion: the 500 calories I was no longer burned at the gym, combined with the 500 extra calories I was eating might have something to do with the 2 pound a week weight gain I was averaging. Someone suggested maybe I needed a weekly dr’s appointment to be required as a cover for getting out on the trail to run. Not sure if it was me or the midwife.

Saturday:

Took Amelia to gymnastics, only to find that she no longer wanted to do it because it was too hard. She can’t do the headstands, the somersaults or really anything at all without assistance. Having all the parents watching didn’t make her any more interested in pushing through the discomfort. My emotions ran the full gamut between frustration at her unwillingness to commit to yet another activity to full-blown tears as I realized that it wasn’t her fault and wasn’t likely to get better anytime soon, given the fact that the geneticist didn’t anticipate having an answer to what may be causing her problems for several months, at best.

Sunday:

Finally went to the gym with all three girls and managed to eke out a 1.5 mile run. First good workout in a long time, and I’m sure my talk with the midwife had something to do with it. In the afternoon, we settle in, bundled up in our warmest scarves and coats, to watch Autumn’s last soccer game. At last!

Monday:

After working all day, I dodge out early to meet the sitter and Amelia for her x-rays, as ordered by the geneticist. Our insurance requires us to go through our local hospital, so after waiting for an hour and a half (outside the room because I’m pregnant and am not allowed in with her), they present me with a CD that I have to figure out how to get to the geneticist. It’s taken much longer than I anticipated, so I have to rush right from there to pick up Autumn and take her to her soccer party, where she receives her first trophy and I eat tomato pie and beg off participating in the parents vs. kids soccer tournament. I frantically e-mail the teachers with whom I have parent/teacher conferences to see if we can reschedule to the following day. Thank God for modern technology.

Tuesday:

I have worked out three days in a row, hurrah! I get up later than I normally would and leave half of the morning routine to hubby, but it’s worth it. I feel like I’m at least doing my part to keep the weight gain in check. I work a few hours then head out to parent conference #1. She’s doing great, hurrah! No time to relish this fact – I come home, work a few more hours then head out to parent conference #2. She’s doing great – talks too much. (Yeah, I know – multiply that by three and welcome to my world.) Back home to work some more and get a head start on this blog.

And is it any wonder I don’t have time to think about preparing for this baby? Thank God it’s not due till March. I promise I will start to think about it after Christmas is over.