Not Me First

As much as I waxed poetic about the importance of putting myself first on my to do list, which would include more regular posts on this here blog, I have -- sadly -- not done as well as I would have liked. That's because I have had a number of other personal developments which have taken priority, the most significant of which is my marriage to my Mr. Wonderful and the inevitable peaks and valleys that come with blending a family of five kids, all of which are under the age of nine.

Yes, that's what I said. I am now at the helm of a household containing two working parents and a maternal figure to five little people, four of whom are boys. You could call us the Magnificent Seven (with your tongue planted firmly in your cheek, naturally). You could call us the Brady Bunch minus one (but if you have a spare housekeeper named Alice, send her over, wouldja?) You might think of us as the Muppets (my sweet Baboo does a masterful imitation of Animal, and one of the boys has a Gonzo-like personality ). Mostly, we're just a couple of normal people with a bunch of normal kids who live in a normal state of harmonious chaos. We all love each other (with the rare kid "I hate you!!" thrown in for good measure) and so it works pretty well, usually.

For me, though, adapting to the constant ebb and flow of people and their ever changing needs and desires has proved to be a major adjustment. Someone's always hungry, mad, hungry, tired, sad, hungry, frustrated. We talk about it, someone has a snack or a nap, someone says "sorry," someone says "I forgive you," and it starts anew. And then there's the kids (smirk). It gets overwhelming and exhausting sometimes, the constant feeding, cleaning, comforting, the lost library books, the forgotten homework, the tantrums on the walk to school, peanut butter fingerprints on the hall mirror, stinky boy socks hanging on the towel rack (the towel rack, I say!!!) It's all just too much some days.

But then there are those moments when it all seems to fall in place, like the recent Monday when they all got up, ate breakfast, got dressed, brushed teeth, combed hair, and were ready for school before 7:30 A.M. and without much adult prodding, or the summer day last year when for one blessed and perfect minute I watched them jump up and down in unison in a giant puddle of water, a look of unadulterated joy on their faces. Or the freshly cut tulips next to my freshly brewed coffee when I went into the kitchen this morning, the good-morning kiss from a freshly shaven Baboo. It's all just too much some days.

So, forgive me for not putting myself first lately. I've been putting others first for a while.