Saturday, October 9, 2010

How 4 is More Than 3



Recently someone asked me how different having three kids was from having four. Going from two to three seemed like such a big jump to their family. Adding one more to that was too much for her to imagine. It made me stop and think about the question. What is it like to have four kids? How is it different than three? Or even two?

Let me first point out that we did not have our four children all in a row. I have no idea how those moms survive from day to day. Our second baby was born three weeks after his big sister’s first birthday but from that moment on, our family growth came to a screeching halt. Jeff was still working on graduate school and starting his career so we happily raised our two as Irish twins and knew any future siblings would come later.

When our first two were independent preschoolers we added another boy to our family. Almost four years after that, our last baby. That put our oldest and our youngest almost a decade apart in age. But no matter how you decide to space them out, having four children is very different from having two or even three.

First let’s visit the topic of clothes. Cute little Osh Kosh hand me downs only last for so long. Once a kid hits elementary school, the friend and family donations dry up. Then it’s time to hit the department store. Buying shirts, pants, socks and underwear for two can add up quickly. With four it’s enough to max out a credit card. Add on to that the fact that everyone needs a winter coat, possibly winter boots, dress shoes and athletic shoes.

Even if money’s not tight, the time it takes to physically take four different kids shopping is almost a full time job. Once we passed the years where I could buy clothes for them without their consent, we had to start scheduling clothes shopping trips like we do dentist appointments. Last week I found myself at Old Navy, with all three boys. We just needed ‘a few pair of pants and a few shirts’.

Getting three rotating boys to try on the necessary items, stay patient while I cruised through clearance racks, and not kill each other (just for fun), was enough to make me crave a nap as I shelled out over two hundred dollars at the register. And that whole escapade was just the tip of the iceberg. We still have to shop for their full winter wardrobes. In past years I’ve spent my Old Navy afternoons juggling the boys on top of trying to steal a few seconds away from them to explore the girlie side of the store with their sister. Fortunately she’s graduated on to picking out her how clothes.

The vehicle in our driveway is also something that reflects our larger family. I know a lot of people who have two kids drive minivans. But when your family totals six, you fill it up. We’ve become experts at packing lightly when we go to New Hampshire to visit grandma. Once the six tall bodies that make up our family climb into the van, there’s little room left over for suitcases.

Every extra child means another birthday on the calendar. Presents and parties and cake on another day you need to make special. Every child means another stack of presents under the tree in December. Every child will also have his own friends, who will multiply and take over your house if the snacks are good enough.

And the thing I feel the most on some days, every extra child means more stuff in your house. More shoes by the door, more buckets of ‘special things’ tucked under beds, more sweatshirts left draped on the back of the couch and a zillion more school papers left on the kitchen table. A jug of orange juice lasts less than a day. A box of cereal is lucky to make it through one breakfast. There never seems to be enough spoons in the drawer if we have soup for dinner, then ice cream for snacks two hours later.

By now you might be wondering why we did it. Why subject ourselves to such chaos and expense, when it just seems like a lot of work? Let me tell you why.

To begin with, we did it because Jeff and I both grew up in big families and loved having lots of siblings. Even as adults we love being surrounded by brothers and sisters, older and younger than us, and the way each of them enriches our lives. Every extra kid in a family brings a different personality. Each of our children have their place in our family and each one of them rounds us out in a good way. When we have family discussions around the dinner table, we have a nice variety of viewpoints and opinions. My children are learning from each other how to get along with many different kinds of people.

As they’ve grown up, and passed through different developmental stages, my children have grown close to whichever sibling meets their needs best at the time. When he was little, Isaac loved snuggling in his big sister’s lap as she read him books. Her praise meant ten times more to him than praise from mom or dad. As he got older, he started to be the big brother for Sam, reaching down to use the nurturing skills his sister taught him. Now that he’s a teenager, he most identifies with his older brother, the one who’s paving the way for him through the confusing halls of high school. He’s learned something different from each interaction.

It’s not a lifestyle for everyone. A lot of the time it’s loud and rowdy, especially if there are boys involved. And it’s not something you should jump into blindly. But for some of us it’s a pretty good life. Even with all the extra work, extra expense and extra guilt that you’re not possibly meeting everyone’s needs, there’s always a reminder somewhere along the way, of why it’s all worth it.

Sometimes it’s as simple as watching your handful of kids just enjoying each others company.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

One Year of Life



One year ago we heard the news. There was a new baby living next door and his name was Andrew. We couldn't wait to meet him.

His daddy brought him over a few days later, bundled up in a blanket. He was amazing. Huge blue eyes and just a wisp of hair.

Then somehow weeks turned into months and seasons came and went. His mama took him for walks and I saw him progress from being propped up in an infant seat to sitting up tall, reaching for things he saw along the way. He changed and grew right before our eyes.

And now he's turned one. This baby we barely knew 12 months ago is now his own person. He runs up and down our driveway as his parents try to have a conversation in our lawn chairs. He chases his cat and climbs over the baby gates. He's his own man.

In one short year he went from totally dependent to thinking he was ready for full independence.

This should not surprise me. We watched it happen with all four of our own kids. But we're up to big kid ages now and going from age 9 to age 10 is significant but not startling. That year between age zero and age one is flabbergasting.

It's been fun to be reminded, once again, how amazing the whole process truly is and how lucky we are to be a part of it.

Reach

Little Brother Rule #456:

No matter how high big brother throws that football, by golly, you sacrifice life and limb to catch it. Skinned knees and twisted ankles be damned.


Kitty Love



Could there be a cat more loved than this one? This kid is our resident Dr. Dolittle (yes, I'm convinced he and that cat have long conversations when the rest of us are not around).

The Mowing Show



One thing I don't want to forget about this autumn, when Sam was about to turn 10: That it was his first summer to help mow the yard and when he'd walk behind that loud push mower he didn't realize that he wasn't in a sound proof bubble.

He'd circle the front yard behind that big, red beast, belting out songs at the top of his lungs. He could barely hear himself, so he figured there was no way we could hear him.

Sometimes he even threw in one handed dance moves, being careful not to let go of the mower's handle. It cracked me up, every single time.

Enjoying the Moment

Another thing I want to remember about this specific time in our journey of raising kids: How Isaac never fails to bring out his theatrical side when he sees a camera in my hand. He was so diligently helping dad rake leaves, until he spied me zooming in on him.

This child's name means 'laughter'. It suits him perfectly.



Monday, October 4, 2010

He Brought Her Flowers



I’ve started to notice that a lot of my writing is centered around living with teenagers. Maybe it’s because keeping this thing balanced, in a house with three teens and a fourth grader, is what takes up most of my mental and physical effort.

So why is it that, as someone who’s had at least one teen in her household for almost six years now, I still find myself being surprised by how surreal it all feels?

Case in point, the events that transpired just twelve hours ago in this very house. Picture, if you will, one tall, adorable nineteen year old boy, sneaking in my back door as I am cleaning up dinner. I can barely see his face, peeking out at me from behind a huge bouquet of brightly colored flowers.

My daughter has just left to go meet said boy at a restaurant down the street. She casually informed me it was their three month anniversary as she breezed out the door. Her smile was so bright it made me stop with my counter wiping.

She’s known this boy for three years now, most of the time we’ve lived in New York. He is the cousin of one of her best friends. It took them going to her senior prom in June (just for fun) for the unexpected sparks to fly. It’s been nice to watch them enjoying time together; finding a good friend who can be a boyfriend too is a special kind of gift.

So now (I’ve learned) that they are marking anniversaries. He sent her off to the restaurant early then snuck back in to plant surprise flowers in her bedroom. His smile was as bright as hers had been.

This is very new for me, for hubby and me. We’ve seen her date before. She had a boyfriend or two in high school. But now she’s in college. This boy is working a full time job. This is when big life changes start to happen.

I don’t know where their relationship will go. They don’t realize it now, but they’re young. Love feels its deepest intensity when it’s new and young. It may fizzle out by next week. Or it may not. As my daughter’s young suitor said last night, “Just imagine, a vase full of flowers for our three month anniversary…for our one year anniversary I’ll have to fill your whole room with flowers!”

It’s all good and charming and special for them right now. I’ll keep my fears and predictions to myself. She deserves a time to just enjoy the sweetness of the moment. I feel confident she’s been well lectured about choices when it comes to her body and her future. So now my job is to sit back and let her be.

She’s entering a whole new world. And so are her mom and dad.