the best years? really?

Last night Aaron called me on his way home from work, like he always does. And like always, he asked me if I needed anything. Usually I say, "NO! Just get home as soon as possible." But yesterday I needed milk, in a big way. I told him to get four gallons. A friend was at our house when I told him to get four gallons and she kind of freaked out. But she has two girls, little ones. I told her that she would understand if she had a houseful of strapping boys.

While Aaron was in the checkout lane with four gallons of milk, he noticed that the man in front of him looked a lot like Albus Dumbledore. And apparently, he was invading my husband's personal space. Aaron wondered if Dumbledore was going to ask him for some spare change because 1) he smelled like he was homeless and 2) he kept looking at Aaron, then back in his cart, then at Aaron again. Finally Dumbledore spoke, but he didn't ask for any money. He said, "Let me guess.... 3 boys and 2 girls." Aaron was impressed and admitted, "I do have 5 kids, but it's 4 boys and 1 girl." Dumbledore smiled and said, "Just remember, these are the best years--- even when they are the worst, they are the best. Before you know it, your children will be grown. These are the BEST years."

I find this incident particularly interesting, not just because I was saying the other day about how these days AREN'T the best days.... but because yesterday was an especially hard day, maybe one of my worst. I could go into details about why it was so bad, but instead I will show you a picture.

Simon and Zack got into a big, bloody fight. and Simon came out on top. The short story is that we wrapped Christmas presents, which is never a good idea with a toddler in the house. After two hours of wrapping (only a handful of presents) Simon wanted to unwrap them all. Zack appointed himself as the wrapping paper police and wouldn't let Simon near the presents. Several minor arguments broke out, and I made Simon sit in time-out. After two minutes of "cooling off" Simon was ready to apologize to Zack. He walked up to him put his arms around his neck and BIT him in the jaw. When I finally pried Simon off, there was lots of blood, but thankfully no chunks of flesh missing from Zack's face.

Some days are harder than others, but EVERYDAY is exhausting. Our family has been through lots of changes these past few months... new school, new job, new baby. I know we will all adjust soon enough, but sometimes I go to bed feeling grateful that we all survived another day.

This morning I received an email from my mom who lives thousands of miles away in Chile. I was feeding the baby before I had to start my day and I read the email from my phone. I giggled out loud and want to share a portion of it:

"Hope you are getting enough rest, Janet. I just read a message on your Facebook page about finding the pacifier in your hair. I smiled, but didn't laugh because I remember how that feels. You wonder how you even make it through the night, don't you think? When Kevin was a few months old, I woke up one night and I couldn't remember if I was a little girl living on the farm, a teenager in high school, or if I was married. I looked around and finally figured out where I was and that there was a baby crying. But I pictured a lot of houses in my mind before I got the right one. I guess you might as well laugh, because, step by step, you will make it through!! Just hang on! It's all worth it in the end! Love you, Mom"

I laughed because every night when I wake up to Roma's crying, I think she is a baby boy. And EVERY night, I have the same conversation with myself about how I have a baby girl... and every night I wonder why I can't remember that she's a she and not a he. But never have I wondered if I was a little girl or high school, so I must be getting a little more sleep than my mom was! I could literally hear her voice saying those words to me. My mother has always been such a positive source of energy in my life. She survived raising ten children (Kevin was #9) and if she could do it, I can too! She has never told me that these years with little kids are the best years of your life. I think saying "it's worth it" is so much more encouraging than saying it's the BEST... because honestly, I just don't buy it, Dumbledore. I just don't buy it. I am an optimist, but I am not an idiot.

ps. this post is a couple of days old. I started writing it on Tuesday morning... then wrote another paragraph or two yesterday... and finally 48 hours later, I was able to finish it. If it's choppy and hard to understand, I blame it on the fact that I haven't gotten much sleep lately. And the fact that I have a 10 year old, an 8 year old, a 5 year old, a naughty 2 year old and a newborn.