It’s 5:04am. I’m nursing baby for what my mother would call the umpteenth time. We are lying on baby’s bed, twin mattress on the floor, in the kid’s room. The 4yr old is restless. He growls across the room then rolls out of bed and stomps over. Again with the growling. Stomps his feet and even in the dark I can see his angry duck face. He wants me to fix his covers. In my head I yell, “Are you freakin’ kidding me!” Instead I hiss at him not to wake his sisters. I can hear eldest coughing from her top bunk. What I thought was baby’s reaction to her shots might be a cold after all. I suggest 4yr old may be more comfortable cuddling with Daddy in the nice big queen size bed. Foot stomp. Baby wakes. That’s it. I guide 4yr old out of the kid’s room to the only other bedroom in the house, and leave him there without a word. Husband can figure it out. I crawl back in bed and sooth crying baby with my breast. Husband is confused. He brings grumpy 4yr old back to the kid’s room and tries to coax him into bed. I explain the situation. Now we are all awake at 5:30am on a Sunday morning. A morning we could be sleeping in. There is no church to go to, no birthday party, no classes, no reason to be awake, which I suppose means no reason not to. I remind myself to calm down. It is what it is, and it’s okay. Husband crawls into 4yr old’s bed, 4yr old crawls into baby’s bed with me. Baby plays. Eldest daughter reads in bed with a flashlight. Eventually we all fall back asleep, and wake to a friend’s offer of bagels. Really, it could be worse.
I don’t propose to have anything figured out, but I have been around the block a few times, mothering full time since eldest daughter was born early Autumn of 2008. I look forward to sharing my experiences, which cover the gamut of pretty much everything mothering.