It was one of those days, followed by one of those nights.
There were the unexpected medical bills, and the prescription that was called in wrong, resulting in an extra copay, with the result that mid-afternoon, Christian was griping in my ear over the phone while Julianna whined because she’d just woken up and Nicholas wailed because he wanted to nurse.
It was getting through that calmly, and then there wasn’t time to clean the floors, which haven’t been mopped in two weeks. Or finish the grocery shopping, despite having no lessons to teach. It was Alex dancing on his chair, which joined him in his tarantella, with the result that the chair went one way and Alex went the other. Next thing we knew, he was screaming. It went on and on and on until he fell asleep on the couch. Who had emotional energy to go lead choir practice, after that? But it was too late to cancel, so we split forces. Christian opted for the home front, so I went to church by myself.
It was coming home two hours later with Nicholas screaming for food and bed, and Alex wailing because he wanted Mommy to snuggle with him. It was getting up with each of the kids in turn, and ministering to their various crises in between my own white night.
At times like these, when everyone wants a piece of me, I remember the story of the Wisdom of Solomon, and I can’t help wondering if the story got twisted in translation. Isn’t it Mom whose soul gets torn in half (or thirds) (or fourths)? How do you weigh the needs of the exhausted and famished baby against the needs of the child with an injured arm? How do you balance the needs of the husband who has dealt with hassle after hassle running an errand on your behalf—trying to make your life easier—against the needs of the children who have been roused from nap before they were ready?
It often feels like it requires the Wisdom of Solomon to keep it together. I know a woman with twice as many children as I have—though admittedly they’re far more spread out—who never loses her cool, who maintains a calm and peaceful demeanor at all times, and often volunteers to take my children off my hands for a while. She seems to walk through life trailing her fingers in some quiet, restful stream. I wonder if her serenity stems from the wisdom of age and experience, or if it is a gift of nature, cultivated and honed in family life. Some women are more naturally suited to motherhood than others, and when I start courting the right side of my middle ground and get irritated with people who have small families, this is a point I need to remember. After all, right now I have all I can handle, and then some.
At the end of a couple of very long, difficult days, we jolted ourselves out of the humdrum last night. It was inSpiration, that’s the only explanation, because I’m not one of those moms I admire who focus all their creative energies on making life special for their families. I never come up with stuff like this. But last night, we built a tent in the living room and had popcorn and cider as a family. It was a moment with great restorative value. 🙂
Kathleen M. Basi 
I miss you guys! We should get together…
Parts of this post remind me of my ‘Lesson’ post from Wednesday! See, and you talking about women who are ‘more suited to motherhood’ and you feeling like you have all you can handle at times totally resonates with the way I feel – except that I’m the small family that you feel irritated with sometimes. I think you have the right insight though – I chose one for so many years because it was honestly all I could possibly handle… without medication. I harbor a sense of failure and weakness because I have only had to raise one for the past six years…
I’m glad you broke out of that ‘crazy’ cycle from the last few days. It always feels good to get off that path. I’m glad you included pictures of your tent!
And the other thing I need to remember is that lots of people have *very* good reasons for having small families, even if the reason isn’t obvious to me. This is supposed to be between parents and God, not between parents and the judgmental world. It goes both ways, for both small and large families.
Totally. I was listening to Catholic radio a few months back when they were talking about good comebacks for people with large families. I was surprised and pleased that at the end they mentioned that there is also no room to judge people with small families. They said it isn’t fair to assume that big family = less worldly and small family = more worldly. Soon after that I was talking to a pharmacist who was expecting his sixth child. I could sense his hesitation in telling me that. My own sense of ‘Oh God, I am such a loser that I can’t even have two!’ was interrupted by thoughts of that show, and I surprised him by saying, “How exciting!” He was taken aback and said, “Yeah! It is exciting!”
I realize we’ve moved on here, but I just have to share that a woman I know through church – so, yes, a Catholic – just told me today that she always thought it was selfish if people waited more than two years between each child. Needless to say, I’ve been feeling hurt all day because I can only wonder what she thinks of me only having one… I couldn’t help but think of our blog conversation here.
Amy, I am so sorry you had to go through that. Those are exactly the kinds of blanket generalizations in black and white that cause so much heartache in the universe.
Thanks Kathleen. That helps a lot more than you know.