Moms: Balancing in Chaos

E and W, Outer Banks

There’s always one more thing. Y’all know what I mean, I know it’s not just me. One more load of laundry, one more bill to pay, one more homework to check, one more spill to clean up.

One more post to write, one more thing to tweet, one more thing you need to comment on. And shoot! That email from last week from your college roommate that you have a response to in drafts…did you send it?

Sometimes my mind reminds me of my desk in first grade, that Ms. Kida tutted over so disapprovingly. Papers spilling out of it, chewed pencils missing erasers, and somewhere, I just know it, my math homework is in the back of it.

Of course, the constant backdrop to all of this activity is my children. Their little voices, their wants, their needs, their  humor. My sense of them is so fine-tuned that sometimes I can go days without honing in on the miraculousness of them.

This week, they’ve been catching me unawares, at times when my defenses are down, and I sit stunned at how they change.

W, 3, has woken up the past two night at 2 am. The first time, I heard thumping from upstairs (yes, I was awake…one more thing…) and I went to check on him. He’d relocated from his bed to the floor, pillows, blankets and all, and was turning like a little doggie.

“What’s up, W?” I said, and he answered groggily, “Too much bread, mommy…” I felt his sheets, which resembled a sandbox due to his before bed snack, and dusted them off. As he was re-tucked, he smiled an angel boy smile and opened his eyes, looking right into mine. It was a look that said, “You fixed it, Mom!” Then, he was asleep.

Last night, he needed to be changed-(Still in pullups at night.) But fresh from six hours of sleep, he was ready to par-tay. “Les watch a movie, Mom! Les have some SNACK!”

“No, man, it’s time for bed,” I said, and he settled in with me, a rare occurrence. Or, I should say, he got in my bed and had a ten minute monologue about the animals he sees at the zoo. “And den dere are MONKEES…den dere are ELLYPHANTS…”

As I listened to his high, sweet voice ticking off things he couldn’t say four months ago, I made a mental note to call his former speech therapist. It gave me a chance to hear him, really HEAR him, instead of saying, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Now, get your shoes on, we’re late again…” without actually bothering to decipher his content.

I woke up this morning with E., 5, standing by my bed with a bowl of Cheerios and milk. “This is for you, Mommy, since Daddy and J. are away,” she said, placing it carefully on my crowded nightstand.

“Oh, WOW!” I said, and sat up. I took a bite, gingerly, since I couldn’t remember if I’d bought fresh milk since our last trip. I widened my bleary eyes, “Mmmmmmmmm!”, since it tasted reasonably not curdled. She beamed, he little face peeking out from barrettes she’d put on herself, dressed in a Hanna Andersson dress which she’d chosen and laboriously buttoned.

And I marveled, at this sweet thing who’s already taking care of people, even as she takes care of herself. Who are these creatures? I think, these people with their own ideas about what they want to eat and where they want to go. (Especially in Cracker Barrel…but that’s a different post.)

I remember when my babies were teeny, in the grocery store. All the people (at least one a day, it seemed) who said menacingly, “Cherish them. CHERISH THEM! It goes so fast…” and I would look at my milk stained shirt and squawling bundle and dark circles and think, “Yeah, not fast enough.”

But I knew, somewhere in the back along with my math homework, that they were right. That there would come a day, like this week, when I couldn’t find any pants for J, 13, and gave him some of Dan’s from the Goodwill pile…and they fit.

He was very casual, “Yeah, these are good, they fit,” while I stared, mulling the implications. That my boy was grown. That I was saved, since it was 11 pm and he was leaving for a school trip at 6 am and I could only find one pair of pants that fit him. That some moment, while my back was turned or maybe I was on my Iphone, he’d gotten so very, very grown-up.

I’m working on remembering that tuning in to my kids is the number one item on the list, not one more thing.

How do you balance everything else that needs to be done in a family with being blown away by your children?

Check out this Dar Williams song (Which I think I’ve blogged before, but it always helps me remember how fleeting kids are…warning…get tissues. If you’re PMS-y, probably just DON’T. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)