Chaos of Three

This weekend I spent two lovely, quiet and fun days spent with nothing but adult food and adult conversations.  And with my four favorite ladies, no less.  I miss them all already.

Over the weekend my sister and I were chatting about what it's like to have kids, and whether or not she was considering having a third child.  In giving her answer she said she was really very happy with her family as it is and right now she doesn't need to invite the "chaos of three" into her life.

The chaos of three?  I immediately thought to myself, does it show that much?  Is my life so crazy that everyone can see all that chaos all the time?  I know I feel it all the time, but are my seams bursting apart in front of the world?

Then I inquired about her brother-in-law and their family, who just added their third child in the past year or so as well.  Indeed, she could confirm that it's not just me and my family, it's them too. 

Phew.  It's nice to know you aren't alone.  

Perhaps I should start a support group for mothers of three or more.  

But if you have more than four children on purpose, you aren't invited because then it's very likely you'd be certifiable.  No offense, but really, five kids?  You have to be a bit off balance to really want that.  Of course a lot of people would say that about three kids. 

After coming home from my weekend I was talking to my very-giving-very-loving-most-wonderful-father husband of mine and he confirmed the theory.  And better yet, he figured out the reason why life seems so chaotic with 3 kids.

It's the age span.  Seems simple enough, but I never really thought about it.  

Basically, by the time you have your third kid, you already have a 4 or 5 year old.  So by the time your youngest is up and running around, you have a child in primary school and another one in preschool, and a toddler.  The key words here are "primary school" and "toddler" in the same sentence and under the same roof.

Of course you could have a smaller age span if you have twins.  But let's just assume that the word "twins" and the word "chaos" are very closely related.

As my family has learned over the last couple of years, elementary school comes with a kit and kaboodle of fringe activities and necessities.  There's the obvious activities, like Girl Scouts, soccer, softball, dance class and what not.  Those are more or less under your control.   Although they often send out pleads of help, asking for coaches or troop leaders and the like.  Right there you are inviting chaos into your life.  But it doesn't stop with that.

Those are nothing compared to the buffet of volunteer "opportunities" that are offered at a public school through a mist of guilt and a cloud of the sense of duty, responsibility and obligation.  As a parent of a child in public school, I think I feel a bit obligated to help out, seeing as my child is getting a "free" eduction and all.  You know.  It's the whole it-takes-a-village concept.  And I really do believe in it.

That's the problem.

If you are anything like me, and there's no saying you are, but if you are reading my blog, it's more likely than not.  So if you are, your life opens up to a realm of activities that you never really thought about.  And they are big and small, depending on what you want to commit to.  

There's the classroom volunteering opportunities: room parent, donations for parties, party planning, charity planning and education, art lesson assistance, field trip chaperoning and in-room volunteering to help the teacher, to name a few.

Then there is the school-wide opportunities, including but not limited to: assistance with the hot lunch delivery, helping at festivals, helping with teacher appreciation week, being on the PTA, leading or being on a committee for a fundraiser, donating for charity drives, participating in fundraising activities and drives, or being on the committee to plan all the committees.  And the list goes on.

None of these things existed before Kindergarten.  And yet here they are, laid out before you at the school registration, like a buffet of needy, starving children that need your help.  Sign up now and you can save the life of this child, for just a mere 5 hours a week of your time and a pint of your blood!

Now I know that it's perfectly fine to not volunteer for anything.  But I also know that that's not my style.  And I know that our PTA President is a full-time working mom, as are most of the other PTA officers.  And the room moms.  So I always feel like, if they are doing it, so should I.

I think when you work you feel obligated to get more involved because you can't be there as much during the day for your kids.  And when you stay at home with your kids, you feel obligated because you are home during the day and it's supposedly easier for you than for those mothers that work.

You can't win.

So here you are, stretched thin between all those things you signed up for when you were feeling like you should do something to help, and all those things you signed up for when you got pregnant with your third child.  And let's not forget all those things that come with the child in between, as we too often do.

And you have to get your husband to cover things when you have evening meetings, and a babysitter for your daytime obligations and on and on.

TA-DA.

The Chaos of Three.

Can someone pass me my glass of wine please?

Who's The Boss?

Sometimes I feel like I am losing control over my kids. It's not that I want to "control" their every thought and every move. 

Well, no, that's not true. I do want to do that. But since it's not a very popular point of view, let's just say that I just want to be able to say what happens when. And between you and me, we'll know the truth.

That's my job right? Control the flow of the day and make sure things that have to and need to happen, do happen.

Now it's time for breakfast. No, there will be no cookies for breakfast. Now it's time to go to school.  Yes, you have to go to school. Now it's time to go to gymnastics.  I don't care if you are tired of gymnastics, we paid good money for this class and we aren't going to waste it.  

YOU VILL DO AS I SAY.

The daily "fights" are everywhere, so I really don't need more to add to it.  And yet that's what I'm getting these days.

My middle child has become very savvy lately at being a good big sister.  She plays with her little brother and they have a ton of fun running and laughing.  She helps him when he needs a hand.  She generally just makes him very happy.  So much so that he gets quite sad when she tries to go off and do her own thing.  Last week she had a play date over at a friends, and after we dropped her off, he cried and cried in the car on the way home, saying her name over and over.  It wasn't until we got back into our plentiful airspace that I could distract him with the aowpanes.

But there's also one more thing she's very good at doing with him. Suggesting things that are not "on the schedule". 

For example, I try to keep the TV watching to a minimum, which means under 2 hours a day [according to studies...].  So I will have just turned off the TV after a major time allotment, and not more than 30 minutes later, she'll hear him say "Elmo? Tee Bee?".  So she'll ask him "Do you want to watch Elmo on TV?  Okay, let's watch Elmo."  And while he's getting himself all comfy on his favorite floor pillow in front of the TV, awaiting his next score to feed his addiction, she comes to tell me to turn on the TV.

That's when it all falls apart.  I have to be the bad guy.  And she doesn't understand why she can't make him happy.  And I'm frustrated and I try to explain it all.  But really, nobody is happy and it just exasperates us all.

This is what happens when anarchy strikes your household.

At breakfast time while the pantry is being browsed for breakfast items and he spots a box of his favorite treats, I might hear "Little brother said he wants a cookie.  You want a cookie little brother?  Yup, mom he wants a cookie."

After dinner, while my girls are about to have dessert and he's about to be put to bed without dessert, since he really has no clue he's missing anything, she'll say "We are having cupcakes! You want a cupcake too, little brother?".  She's just so excited about hers that she wants to share the experience with him, bless her heart.  But now he's repeating the word "cutcate!" over and over while I'm carrying him off to bed without one.

Little helpers are great.  I can't live without them really.  But they do add one more thing to the list of things I have to control during the day.  

Lest they take over the mother ship. 

It's a bird! It's a plane!

Lately the name of the game with my son is DISTRACTION.  

It's really a great resolution to so many problems.

If he starts to cry about something (other than being hurt, although it still works then too).  If he is asking for a cookie non-stop and won't take "no" for an answer.  If he won't eat what's in front of him.  If he won't stop yelling in the car.

All of these common household problems have the same solution.  DISTRACTION.  

Really I should call it "Distraction Jeopardy" because things have to be posed in the form of a question.  And it is indeed a little game.  First it's his turn; he cries.  Then it's my turn; I say "where's the sky?" or "where's your nose?" or "do you see that doggy?".  Doesn't really matter what the question is about most times, but in extreme cases it has to be something interesting and not just a body part.  And it doesn't really matter where we are or if the question is relevant.  I can ask him "where's the moon?" when we are in the middle of the grocery store and he'll stop what he's doing and look around for it.  Those 22 month olds are gullible like that.

Here's an example.

This morning my husband was trying to get our son to eat breakfast.  As hungry as he always is in the morning, for whatever reason, he tends to be a pain in the arse about actually eating the food he is asking for.  Either he wants to feed himself, or it's not the right spoon ("Elmo poon!"), or he wants more cereal in the bowl before he'll take a bite.  You name it, he has an opinion about it.  I mean, it's just Rice Crispies for pete's sake, what's all the fuss about?

So this morning I enter the kitchen and decide that it's time for a round of Distraction Jeopardy.  I pick him up and take him over to the window in the dining room to look outside.  I bring the bowl of cereal with me so that I'm at the ready when he gets distracted.   

I always figure a window is a safe bet since there's so much to look at outside.  "What do you see outside?" I ask.  Sure enough, there's a new tulip in the ground that we admire.  But that gets boring fast.  "Do you see any birdies?" I ask, figuring it's a fat chance at 7 in the morning, but worth a shot.  

Then we look around and hit the mother lode.  Two doves are sitting on the fence right outside the window.  It's like winning the Double Jeopardy bonus question.

To know just how much of a mother lode this is, you have to know that we play this game a lot, a bit too much in fact, in the car.  If ever there is a fuss, all I have to do is say "Do you see any birdies out your window?" and he immediately stops what he's doing and looks for birds.  The same can be done for airplanes.  Since we live under the arriving flight pattern for SFO and about 2 miles away from a small local airport, we are always spotting planes in the air.  Mommy's little helpers fill the sky with all kinds of distractions around our house.  I do have to hear the words "boidies!" and "aowpane!" about a hundred times a day as he points them out while being shuttled around to and from his sisters' various activities.  But it's worth it if it keeps him happy.

So back to this morning.  As his eyes open so wide I think they might pop out of his head, his mouth opens too.  And in enters the first bite of cereal.  He tries to actually touch the birds through the window and continues to be so fascinated that I can then get a few more bites in while he watches them.  Then we are home free.  

Once he gets a taste of the food he realizes just how hungry he is and we can return to the kitchen where he can feed himself the rest of his breakfast, no matter which spoon he's using or how full the bowl is.

Voila!  Problem solved.

Now if only we didn't have to play 25 rounds of this game throughout the day.  

It can be a bit distracting.

Where has the time gone?

Anyone have an answer to this one?

I certainly can apply this question to my blog.  Generally I like to write one a week minimum, but since starting up a new business I have had less time on my hands.  That 15 minutes a day that I used to have just seems to fly by now.

I can also apply this question to my life.  Where has all the time gone?  One minute I'm a kid in grade school playing tetherball everyday at recess (whatever happened to that "sport" anyway?), the next minute I'm at high school prom, and the next I'm at my high school 20th year reunion.

Today I took my oldest daughter on a Brownie troop field trip to the bowling alley.  I kept thinking that she might not like it since the last time we were there she just couldn't deal with the heavy ball and long waits in between turns.

Then I realized, as I'm watching her have so much fun with her friends chucking 6 pound balls down a lane, listening to all the huge "thud!" sounds, that the last time we were there was about 3 and a half years ago.

I kept going over and over it again thinking that I must be remembering wrong.  But I wasn't.  It really had been over 3 years.  And it honestly seemed like only six months.  A year max.  Until I watched my daughter and saw how much older she is now.  So independent and carefree.  Nary a tantrum in sight these days.  Sometimes time works in our favor like that.

Then we came home and went door to door delivering Girl Scout cookies that she sold to the neighbors.  I honestly couldn't believe that this was me.  This was my child selling and delivering the cookies and not me.  I so clearly remember those days, with the same form that they still have today, all filled out, counting up how many I sold to see if I earned my patch.  And now I get to watch my daughter do it all with the same excitement.

I keep thinking to myself, do I really have a 7 year old kid?

In the midst of all this girl scout goody-goody fun today, I also delivered softball uniforms to the girls on her team.  My husband is the coach, but it seems I'm the one closest to all the kids and parents.  So I gladly took on the task and brought a couple to the classroom when I showed up to volunteer, and another to the troop field trip.  No big deal really.  

Other than the fact that I had to stop tonight and look around my house and realize that this is indeed my life now.  Delivering girl scout cookies and going on field trips, getting ready for softball opening day and team pictures.  Not to mention sleepovers and hip hop dance class.

It feels like a new era.  And I have to say, it makes me feel a bit old.  Not in a bad way though.  More like in a I-can't-believe-sometimes-I-don't-realize-what-I-have-accomplished sort of way.

And in tow I still have my two little ones.  I think they keep me young.  They keep me in yesteryear.

I look at my younger daughter almost every night now when we are getting ready for her bedtime, and I size up her little arms and legs.  I keep a close eye on them as if I can see if they have grown overnight.

And I give my son more kisses in a day that I can possibly count.  I especially love the spot on the side of his neck just above the collar bone.  It's just delicious.  And it's going to be off limits one day soon, replaced by a "mo-mmy!" and then replaced by a whiny "ma-ahm" when I try to squeeze in a kiss good-bye in front of his friends.

Because now I know from experience that before you realize it those little limbs stretch out longer, those little teeth fall out one by one, and those little brains soak up more than you think can possibly fit in them.  

Before you know it they are 7 years old.  And one day soon after that they are 27.  And you really won't ever be ready.  

But hopefully you can at least say you got in plenty of kisses and long gazes, and watched as many softball games and went on as many field trips as you possibly could while you had the chance.