{living the dream}

Forgive the cliche title, but it is exactly what I mean for it to be.

Now that I’ve settled into parenting-more-than-one-kid mode, I’ve realized that I’m not nearly as good at multitasking as I thought I was.

I’m getting schooled by tiny humans.

I took two months off of work when my youngest was born, and by work I mean teaching piano lessons, which I do from my home during the after school/early evening hours.  Once the little guy hit two months, I took a few students back and began teaching an abbreviated schedule, but with an infant and also a 2nd grader who was struggling a bit in school, it was all I could handle at the time.

In January (about the time baby hit 5 months), I jumped back in to a full schedule, even starting a couple of new students.  It was challenging, but I made it work.  And then, the baby became mobile rather early on (I didn’t know babies could crawl and pull up at 6 months, but whatever, that’s where we are now), and for budgetary reasons I took another student (I now have 14), and that has led me to days like last Thursday.

The baby had had a cold and I’m pretty sure we’re officially in teething mode, and the last time I did this I only had the one child, I didn’t work at all, and I wasn’t living with chronic pain and fatigue brought on by an autoimmune disease.  Also, I was still in my 20’s. (#RIPyouth)  So, now I’m up all night with the baby who apparently decided that increased mobility was a great excuse for sleep regression, and I actually lay awake waiting for him to cry. I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again.  Wednesday night was the pinnacle of sleeplessness as he cried off and on for about 8 hours throughout the night. I was such a zombie the next morning that I couldn’t even understand the noise coming from my alarm clock.  Ringing noise?    WHAT IS THE NOISE. It’s friggin’ annoying is what it is, and for the love of all that is holy, MAKE IT STOP.

I stumbled to the coffee pot, and the day quickly began as the 7 year old and the 7 month old both awoke at the same time, both needing breakfast, both so annoyingly chipper that it seemed as though they’d both slept 12 deep and dreamless hours.  The 7 yr old actually had slept that well, but I totally called the baby’s bluff.  (Imposter.)

I quickly dressed (yes to makeup, no to shower), poured the cereal, packed the lunch, fed baby, signed the homework forms, laid out the clothes, wiped the bottoms and noses, dressed the wee one, redressed the big one who can’t seem to understand that backwards pants aren’t really socially acceptable, school drop off, quick but necessary trip to the store, cleaned the house, put baby down for nap, prepped dinner for later, ate breakfast and/or lunch at some point but I don’t remember either, dishes, bottles, folded at least 4 loads of laundry, took care of baby and successfully taught two piano lessons during naptime.  Then it was back to school for pick-up, snacks, homework, day debriefing, and settling baby with toys before piano students arrived (which happened 15 precious minutes EARLY when a student’s grandma dropped the kid off and just left me to watch her until her lesson was over 45 minutes later.  Ummm….this is NOT a daycare.  It just looks like one.) For the next two hours I taught scales, dominant 7th chord inversions, note placement on the staff, transposing, and more while refereeing my two kids who demanded to be under my feet at ALL times.  Baby stood up and fell over directly on to his face or head no less than 8 times which of course comes with the additional treat of blood-curdling screams.  The big kid is currently grounded from screens so he basically laid on the floor next to the piano because if I don’t give him something to do apparently he is completely useless and can’t lift an arm or leg for himself.

And when the last student left, I had to finish dinner and feed the kids while my husband was tied up with some other things, and I washed a mountain of dishes and did bath and bedtime routines alone, which has been happening more often than not here lately because being a pastor means being on-call or forever committed to evening meetings and by the way, emergencies are never scheduled during office hours.  But at the end of the night I collapsed on the couch with a glass of wine and a warm, fuzzy blanket and I thought about how much I wanted to complain.  I knew the baby wasn’t going to sleep through the night (he didn’t), and I was already running on a serious sleep deficit. My head might actually explode if I can’t get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

But as I laid there on the couch and assessed the situation, I realized that 12 years ago I penned the words to a song wherein I expressed how much I longed for the chaos of a full home. I wanted it with every part of my being.  I wanted to trip over toys in a house made messy by children (yep), to be up all night with a baby for no reason that I could figure (check, a hundred times, check), to play with my kids (does snuggling with them on the couch while I sort of doze count?), to pray for my kids (always), and I wanted noise instead of quiet (come again?).

It hit me while I decompressed on the couch and thought about the long, exhausting day that I am living my dream.  Like literally LIVING MY DREAM.

And that’s pretty amazing, especially considering what it took for me to even become a mom, and that twice over.  It may have taken 12 years to get here, but I’m here.  And that’s a miracle, no matter how covered in drool or spit-up I find myself, no matter how much rice I have to clean up off the floor after dinner, or how often I have to repeat myself to my children to be heard.

It’s not an easy gig, this mothering thing.  I often think about my single mom friends and I absolutely have NO idea how they manage. They have all my respect and a lot of my prayers.  I see my weaknesses one-hundredfold in the midst of stressful mothering moments.  Some days I want to run and hide from the constant demands to be parented.  But, I have been ENTRUSTED with my children.  They are gifts to me from God and from their birth families.  And I cannot take that lightly.  I have been given a gift….a gift that was also my dream.

Chin up, Mamas.  This is where we are now.  We’re in this.

Wipe the various forms of snot and slobber off your shoulders, roll up your pureed sweet potato splattered sleeves, pull your hair up into a top knot, and keep raising your kids with your whole heart.

They are gifts.

Even if they are exhausting.