The Perfect Storm

I’m gonna call it as I see it. The shifty clouds. The elements gathering.

Six more weeks of this could very well conjure up The Perfect Storm.

No single component is outweighing another. It’s the swirling of them into one big mix that is making the future look a little frightening. Like a surging, encroaching blitz!

Let me explain.

For starters, April 15th seems like light years away. Head-wind blaring, Doug is full-on into tax season. Which means Monday through Saturday I have a husband who sleeps in my bed and uses our shower, but other than that, he spends most waking hours at the office. Sundays, however, (Oh blessed Sunday!) he is all ours.

Next up? Ali and Sami (mostly Ali) have decided this is the perfect time for Potty Training.

You must know I have not encouraged this. I did purchase a small potty seat for the toilet but other than that? Haven’t even talked about it.

After finding them in Eliza’s underwear a few too many times I caved and bought pull-ups.

But months ago I decided the girls would have to beg for potty privileges. Because once we start… there is no going back!

And boy have we been having fun! Every day the floor of their room looks like this.

I’m finding wet diapers and pull-ups all over the house.

And I always seem to be feeding babies or preparing food when someone has an accident or needs wiping! I know. Sorry. Gross. (I’m doing an insane amount of hand-washing!)

In addition to the new potty factor, the girls are (as mentioned before) entering that awful endurance haul that comes from dropping a nap. Thankfully, if I devote some time to sitting in their room I can still get them down. But it’s pushing bedtime back a bit. And I don’t know how long we can keep this up!

And… now the girls are proudly climbing IN AND OUT of their cribs.

So why keep them in their cribs? I. Don’t. Know.

Sami perches on the edge, dangling her legs, then JUMPS out of her crib with a loud thunk. Ali delicately scales out of hers. But it’s happening the second they wake up – EARLY! Too early. And this new wake-up-bedroom-escape is colliding with my morning shower and quiet time.

This morning by 8:15 I had already cleaned up one missed potty puddle in the bathroom, an entire box of Raisin Bran dumped onto the kitchen floor (Eliza was skillfully stacking cereal boxes sky high), and a bowl of milk and cereal that completely missed the sink.

A few minutes after breakfast, two polly pockets were tearfully brought to me. One beheaded, the other scalped. Sadly, I think the damage is irreparable.

(Post Script: While looking at this picture, Ali had something to say about balding Ariel. “Her look like Moses.” ?)

The boys have dropped their catnap. Goodbye to those priceless 45 minutes. ‘Twas just enough time to get dinner on. Just enough sleep to last until go down around 8. But now everyone’s part of the endurance haul as we try to get through dinnertime with two fussy babies and two exhausted toddlers.

Good thing these boys are so cute and good-natured. If we can keep them mildly entertained, their “fussy” is manageable.

So those are the most daunting elements of Our Perfect Storm.

But every cloud has a silver lining. Right?

Here are some of the glistenings I’ve noticed.

Ali is basically potty-training herself. The first few times Miss Independent decided to “go” I sent Eliza with her (I must have been feeding the boys). Eliza taught her the ropes and now she refuses my help.

“I can do it myself Mom!” And most of the time she can. She’s surprisingly motivated and can’t STAND a wet diaper or pull-up. But really, what would I do without Big Sister Eliza?

Doug is coming home early one night every week so we can spend time together as a family.

Or – if I’ve been frequenting Wit’s End (term gleaned from Shawni), he takes over and I head out for Barnes & Noble.

He’s also been sticking around Saturday mornings to make pancakes and play with the kids. We LOVE it! It tempers his absence just enough that this year actually feels more tolerable than others.

And when it comes down to it, how can I complain? Doug is gainfully employed. He takes this providing thing seriously – making it possible for me to be home with our five little ones. I know we are blessed. And I love him for all his hard work.

Last week my parents did our grocery shopping. Today my Dad went to Costco for us (I’ve been trying to get there for three weeks!) And I have my stand-by helpers to thank (you know who you are) for watching the kids here and there so I can make appointments, run a few errands, or go to dinner with Doug.

Lastly, I’m not pregnant, nor quite so petulant.

Things are more intense, more crazy, and more messy but I have the energy for it. And I’m trying really hard not to feel like a mommy martyr.

My latest survival tactics?

Music. It helps both me and the kids. How can you get frustrated when you’re bopping around to John Mayer or cleaning up milk while Andrew York is lofting through the air?

Wearing comfortable clothes helps. This might translate into looking like a slob. But seriously – I’m just more relaxed. And I care less about messes when I’m in sweat pants and a running shirt.

Getting out when I think I might lose my mind is a good thing for all of us. I had my first pedicure (since the boys were born) last week. Blissful. Looking down at my painted toenails just makes me happy.

And did I mention Disney movies? Where would I be without Disney!?

So who knows? Maybe this will be The Perfect Storm that wasn’t. I can only hope.

But despite the ominous brewing, even on the hardest days, I would take a perfect storm over no storm at all.

I love all these little people.

Uh oh. Gotta run. Ali and Sami are clattering around in their bedroom trying to change their own diapers. And I hear two darling boys chirping to be fed.

Hurrah for Mary Poppins and leftovers. We may survive yet!

How do you weather the storm?

 

I’m currently accepting all suggestions, recommendations, and donations (especially if you are a chef, personal shopper, or baby-sitter!)