tales from a stay-at-home mom of four boys

Archive for the month “April, 2015”

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the loyalest of them all?

I have four boys, which means my kids have a lot of brothers. Some times they are very loving of each other, but most times they enjoy pushing each other’s buttons and making each other wish they were an only child. Despite all they put each other through, I know that deep down they love each other. Today, however, I think I came to the conclusion that my Middlest child is the most loving and dedicated of all the brothers.

Today was a beautiful day. It felt like summer, so we went to play at the park. Unfortunately it is not yet summer, so after about an hour, we needed to go home and resume weekday during the school year activities. My oldest wasn’t too keen on this idea so I did what I often do in this situation, I packed up and started to leave. I waved goodbye and told my oldest that I hoped he enjoyed his new life living at the park. As I began to walk my other three to the car my 3 year old began to sob. I thought he was upset because we were going home, but then I heard him call his brother’s name. It turned out, he wasn’t upset we were leaving the park, but that we were leaving his brother behind. I tried to explain to him that we weren’t really going to leave him, that he would eventually come, but when I tried to get him into the car, he began bawling and reaching toward the park for his brother. My Middlest was adomant that we could not leave without his oldest brother. It was so sweet and cute, I couldn’t help but hug him and kiss his tears. My five year old, on the other hand, could care less that we were leaving his old brother at the park. In fact, I’m pretty sure he got a little extra skip in his step at the idea of leaving his older brother at the park and him becoming the oldest sibling now.

Luckily for my 3 year old and not so luckily for my 5 year old, my oldest did eventually join us at the car before we left. So no one got left behind and no one got to move up the hierarchy of brothers, but one did show that he is the most loyal of them all.


Why does it still hurt?

Today I needed to get a foot X-ray from a three month old injure. My doctor sent me to a local hospital which I’d had the pleasure of visiting the ER of three times  in a four month period over a year and a half ago. This is the life of a mom with many small boys; my own visit was also due to injury caused by those boys. I’d  never seen outside of the ER before even though this was the hospital I was originally suppose to deliver my fourth son at a little more than a year ago. When I walked into the hospital in search of the imagining department my first reaction was, “this is a really nice hospital.” Within seconds, however, I was hit by a bigger, tougher reaction, as I choked back tears and a sick, sinking feeling.

This hospital  really wasn’t similar to the hospital I gave birth in almost 14 months ago, with the exception that it was pleasant looking, had a cafe on the first floor, and a little outdoor sitting area. Despite this, I was immediately transported back to my days visiting the NICU last year. I was completely surprised by these feeling because this wasn’t one of the hospitals that I’d spent time in with my youngest. Still these memories were triggered. The feelings subsided a little during my X-ray, but they came back strong again as I attempted to quickly peruse the cute gift shop that really resembled more of a store at the mall than at a hospital. This time I was overcome by memories of our stay at the Children’s Hospital over last summer and the gift shop there. I wasn’t able to hold back tears and felt suddenly nauseous, so I bolted for my car.

When I got to my car I began to cry. I couldn’t help it. I knew it was stupid, my baby was healthy and fine and with my neighbor, but my emotional self seemed oblivious to this fact. So I just allowed myself to cry, figuring that I must have needed it. After a few minutes I stopped, but I was then overwhelmed by a need to see and hold my baby. So as soon as I was able to compose myself, I raced home to see him.

It seems crazy that something that seemed so unrelated triggered feelings I thought I was getting beyond, yet it happened. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever be able to walk into a hospital again without falling a part. I know it hasn’t even been a year since we finished our hospital stays, but my littlest guy is doing so well, so why aren’t I? 

Patience is a virtue, but not the norm

Dear Woman waiting for my parking space at Target,

I’m sorry, I didn’t immediately see you there. I was busy loading my multiple bags and children into my car. You seemed to be annoyed that it was taking me so long to vacate my space for you. I get that I’d snagged myself a sweet spot which you wanted. Infact, only two other spots were sweeter than mine and both were currently occupied by cars that didn’t appear to be leaving anytime too soon.  Well, I hate to break it to you, but mine wasn’t either, or at least not as quickly as you’d have  liked me too.

The thing is, I have several small children who need to be buckled in, bags to load, and a carriage to return, these things take time (as does everything with small children). I noticed though that you don’t have any children in your car, so you are able to hop in and out quickly (your shopping trip probably takes a fraction of the time mine does too).  Based upon the impatient looks you were giving me, I would guess that you were in a hurry, so it surprises me that you were choosing to wait for my spot. After all, the lots was half empty and you must have passed at least ten spots before getting to mine. You didn’t  appear to be old, nor did I see a handicapped sticker (otherwise you would have been parking in an even sweeter spot than mine), so I’m guess you probably don’t have a problem walking that would necessated that you wait for a spot up front. Since it was clearly taking me longer than you would have liked and there were so many other open spots just a little further away, I found it curious that  you would continue to wait angerly on my annoyingly large family. Oh sure, I get that the other spots would  require you to walk a few extra steps, but maybe you should ask yourself if avoiding a small exertion of energy is worth the annoyance of waiting for my spot. I guess that, after several minutes of waiting, you finally decided that it wasn’t, since you seemed to find yourself another spot not that much further from mine. Good for you for choosing a small amount of walking over the agony of waiting! From the dirty look you gave me as you walked by while I finally buckled myself in, I’m guessing you were still a little perturbed with me for forcing you to make that decision.

Oh the plight of the privileged and impatient! I’m sure the hungry, homeless, and destitute feel bad  for you and your huge burden of being forced to decide between getting a small amount of exercise or having to wait. I’d have said a small prayer for you that there was no line at Starbucks inside, but I didn’t want another person to have to make the tough choice you just had to make.


Someone who has no fucks to give about your first world problems

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