A Family of Four

Everywhere I go around California, people see that I have a little boy and a brand new baby girl and say, "Oh thank goodness!  You're done!"

I have always imagined four children to be the perfect number ... but lately, I find myself agreeing with the Californians.  How do so many people in the world have more kids than this?  I tip my hat to them all.

But amidst the tears I have shed over my inability to do everything that is wanted of me, there have also been moments of pure joy.  Sometimes I think I would like three or four more babies, at least. 

Through the good and the bad, I have learned a few things so far:

• Having your mom come and stay with you for a week is the best thing in the world.  Whether she's holding your newborn, playing trains with your two year old, cooking for your husband, or cleaning your house ... you just can't lose.  Having your mother-in-law come right after to do the same?  Heaven.  

Circles!

photography by: MacAlister

Just so I never forget ... the all-natural, super-healthy Chris Gunn took us to Ikea, where we topped the morning off with a lunch of ice cream and cinnamon rolls.  Fabulous ... just what my aching pelvic bones needed.

•  It is not selfish at all to accept offers for dinner from friends and neighbors.  Even if you just had nearly two weeks of meals from family.  Enjoy being someone's service project.
• When people call and ask to stop by, welcome them in with open arms!  (Don't worry if the house is clean or not.)  They will remind you how beautiful and wonderful your kids are, they often come bearing adorable gifts, and occasionally they will even bring a lovely girl who just came back from a mission in New York, where she served with your sister!  This gal may even bring a gift specifically from your sister, complete with a letter, pictures, and a hug from the same arms that hugged her just a few days before.  (THANK YOU Sydney, and the wonderful Sister Maughn!)

Bel rockin' her sweet New York gear.

•  Once the family has gone and the dinners taper off, how do you get through a day all alone with a two-year-old who wants to play trains, a newborn who rarely stops crying unless she is eating, and a husband who works his rear end off all day and is busy trying to make a life for his new little family?  The answer is a MOBY.  Nick-named "the uterus".  Functions almost the same; if I put her inside and go for a walk (make it a walk around downtown Disney to meet your oldest friend), she sleeps like magic.

• Contrary to what I had been told by nearly every friend I have with more than one child, the two year old is NOT the difficult one.  It's the newborn ... particularly if she has a squawk that makes your ears ring at only two weeks old.
• In fact, big brothers are in general not very interested in baby sisters at all.  Mac has mostly ignored her.  He likes to help with diaper changes, and he has shown a real interest in milk lately ("macky milk", not "baby milk"), and on occasion I can get him to give her a kiss on the head or point out all of her "small" body parts ... but otherwise he does his own thing.
• Having a little sister will make big brother realize how very grown up he is.  Mac acts like he doesn't even need me any more.  He often ignores me. (Punishment?  Can't tell.)  He gets his own food out of the fridge, sets up tracks, and pulls out movies to watch.  If only he would use the toilet, he really would be a grown up.  How do I feel about all this?  Extremely mixed.  
• Babies are indeed all very different.  The tricks I used on Mac do not work with Bel.  The swaddle?  No effect.  The one-armed bounce?  Nada.  Foods I eat affect her differently.  She nurses differently.  And she certainly has a very different personality.  Where Mac was a silent little blob who took his time to reach each milestone, Belen is a loud, strong, demanding little thing who already seems to have many abilities that a three month old might claim.
• And finally, husbands are the greatest thing ever.  How do women do it on their own?  How do they do it without having that calming, steady someone to look forward to arriving home at the end of a long day of juggling squealing babies and busy toddlers?  Without someone to help with dishes, take your little guy out to do something fun, and rock your baby to sleep?  Without someone to hug you and kiss you and remind you who you are; that you have all sorts of dimensions and are, indeed, doing a decent job of balancing it all?  I can't imagine missing it.  Mark, I love you.