I have a theory....

Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now I have six children and no theories.           --------John Wilmot

Okay, so I don't have six children--yet  (just kidding, mom, calm down, breathe). I am about to have four children and I am all out of theories.

Not that I didn't have them, I did.  Lots of them.

I have been thinking lately about how different I am now that I have children.  More specifically I have been thinking about all of the things I always said I would never do...and how I do almost everything I said I wouldn't

Here are some examples:

What I said:  "When I have kids, I am going to get down to their level, look them in the eye, and treat them like the little humans they are."  What I actually do:  Barely look up from what I am doing to grunt a response. I love my kids, but they are always talking, asking questions or whining. No human could possibly be expected to listen attentively to that much volume of information.  Besides, I need to get stuff done or else we don't eat, we don't have clean clothes...

What I said: "When I have kids, I will never yell at them. I will calmly explain what they are doing wrong.  I will then come up with a natural consequence for their actions."  What I actually do:  Yell at them to "Quit doing that!!" then threaten to take away their blankie or beloved pink bear. The truth is, natural consequences are hard.  I don't want to spend my life enforcing consequences I can't possibly police.  Besides as soon as I leave Daddy in charge, natural consequences  (and discipline in general) go right out the window.

What I said: "When I have kids, I will never, ever use the phrase 'Because I said So.'  My kids deserve respect and an explanation."  What I actually do:  You can probably guess by now.  You experienced moms are probably laughing right now--yeah, yeah, I know. It was a good theory.

What I said "When I have kids, They will not disturb others in restaurants.  We will be a nice, normal family when in public."  What I actually do:  I admit it.  Sometimes I am that parent that lets my kids run wild because I don't have the energy to stop them. I throw myself on the mercy of the other patrons and hope they understand that sometimes mommy needs a meal that I didn't make and I don't have to clean up after. So we eat, leave a big mess and a giant tip.  Sorry to all the servers out there.

What I said:  "When I have kids, I will spend time with them, doing crafts, going to the park, we will not be a TV family.  What I actually do:  Well, I live in a climate where it was minus 43 for most of January and February.  Currently there is still six feet of snow outside.  I am also pregnant for the fourth time.  I don't think I need to tell you what I actually do, I will only say that cuddle time in front of the TV counts as spending time with kids.  Also, if you time it right you can buy yourself a good 30 min of free time with the right program. 

So there you have it.  All of the wonderful theories I had that were great theories--until I actually had kids.  Now I have kids and no clue what I am doing.  On the bright side, my kids haven't noticed.
 Shhhh...don't tell them...

Spend time in prison? No thanks, I have children.

Everyone should have kids. They are the greatest joy in the world. But they are also terrorists. You'll realize this as soon as they are born and they start using sleep deprivation to break you.           -------Ray Romano

We are three days into March break and I am not sure I will survive. We are stuck in the house. There is literally ten feet of snow outside and we can't go anywhere because we can't find the car.  I can't send my monkeys outside because I loose them in the snow.

Spending all day with my kids (and a rerun of Criminal Minds I watched today) has got me thinking,  Who needs homeland security?  Let my crack team of little angels interrogate suspected terrorists.  The terrorists would not last a day around my bunch. 

Here (in no particular order) is why my little monsters would be better than the most seasoned CIA or CSIS agents:

1.   Non stop questions. After a day of fielding such questions as "Is bugs bunny mean or  nice in this cartoon?", "How come Fred Flinstone's car does not have an engine but he is not pushing it with his feet?" "Why is Shaggy scared all the time?"  "Is Foghorn Leghorn going to get in trouble in this episode or is the dog going to get into trouble?" "When its a commercial in a cartoon do they slow down the camera?"      Even the most diabolical terrorist will be begging to talk about secret evil plots.

2. Sleep deprivation. Let the terrorist share a room with my youngest monster.  After a night dealing with her four am wake up--scream--eventually calm down--play and be happy until its back to bed time then scream again--eventually fall asleep only to wake up 2 hours later routine, A life in prison will seem like a holiday (At least he could sleep at night).

3. No rest for the wicked. Have the terrorist spend the day with my three year old.  As soon as his feet hit the floor in the morning, my little one will ask for a drink of milk.  Once he gets that and returns to his seat, my little one will want toast.  The day will unfold with him having to get up a million times, for a variety of reasons. These include turning on the bathroom light, retrieving pink bear from some location little arms can't reach, getting the crayons from the high shelf, retrieving a lost ball, marble or necklace. 
Just when it seems the raging sea of demands has slowed to a wave, the terrorist will hear "I m hungry." 
When the blessed relief of bedtime finally rolls around he will have the pleasure of convincing my monkey to go to bed then convince her to sleep (I hope he has better luck than I do; She has been in bed for over an hour and is still kicking the wall).  This combined with the aforementioned sleep deprivation, will drive the most seasoned terrorist insane.

4. Constant noise.  I heard that soldiers sometimes play loud annoying music to flush out terrorists.  
Please. That's child's play. 
If you want to crack a terrorist, let him watch my six year old's hockey game.  Not a real hockey game, a pretend game played in my rec room.  The periods last about 2 min (at which time the buzzer sounds, a sound made by my child but it is just as loud as at the arena) There is a goal about every 10 seconds (Which gives rise to shouts of  Yay!! yahoo!! at the top of his lungs-- just like at the arena). After the goal comes the face off, which requires a whistle and a puck drop.  On top of all of that, there is the sound of the puck hitting the floor, the wall, and the laundry baskets set up as nets.
Then the game starts again, requiring the singing of "O Canada". This happens all day everyday, until I flip my lid and threaten to throw out all of the hockey sticks, pucks and nets in our house.  Let's see if the terrorist can handle that.

5. Water torture.  Let Mr. terrorist give my kids a bath. First, wrestling them into the tub is usually just that--a wrestling match fraught with tears, punching, kicking, and the kids haven't even made it into the water.  Once they are in the water, convincing my six year old to wash his hair takes upwards of 30 min, usually resulting in me giving up and just dumping the water over his head, resulting in a blood curdling scream. The other two, hearing the scream decide they should be screaming too. 
Now there are three wet and screaming children in an enclosed space---Not good. 
Once everyone is calm, my older two decide its time to swim.  Now they are sliding in the tub splashing water everywhere, including all over the floor the towels, everything. Hopefully he manages to get the baby out in the nick of time. There would be Mr. terrorist, wet and frustrated.
When the bath comes to a merciful end, and he reaches to help my three year old out of the tub, "Splash!!" steps right into a puddle.  Nothing is more maddening than wet feet!

I could go on, but I think I have proved my point.  Should the government wish to reach me I would be more than happy to loan out my little operatives.  CSIS could save a fortune.

 Come to think of it, as I look out my window at the ten feet of snow and I contemplate another day with my munchkins, I am thinking that a stint in Guantanamo Bay doesn't sound so bad.  At least there is no snow there, right?

                                                                                                                                             

Baby on board....here we go again....

Of children as of procreation--the pleasure momentary, the posture ridiculous, the expense damnable.    ---Evelyn Waugh      

Well we have done it again.  Baby number four is on the way and due this August.  I could make any number of jokes here, like how there is nothing to do up here or there is something in the water.  I could make these jokes, but I won't.  The truth is, we wanted four kids and God willing, we are having four kids.

Exciting? yes.  Crazy? yes.  Have our hands full? yep.

I will admit that it is not the wisest choice we could make, but  I am not known for my wise decisions.  We have had some interesting reactions to our news. Here are some of the highlights:

Reaction #1:  "Oh no!" (from the grandfather to be) followed by "My, you certainly will be busy" (from the grandmother to be)

Reaction #2: "You certainly are a glutton for punishment"  This from Nana, which is slightly better than her reaction to baby #3: "Wow you really don't want to work do you?"

Reaction #3:  "Be prepared for negative reactions because the general consensus is that you have your hands full"--This one is my personal favorite.  The general consensus? There is a general consensus on my life?  I know I share every detail of it, and I admit that I have struggles. However,  I really don't think anyone spends any amount of time discussing what I do, other than to spread the usual family/friends news. 

My husband has also been getting some interesting reactions.  Well meaning friends are now messaging him telling him how easy it is to get a vasectomy, and giving him contact info for how to go about getting one. 

I completely understand that our family and friends love and support us.  And believe, me, we love them.

  My hope is that when the time comes for real support, like when all four kids are screaming, we have no toilet paper cause we can't get out to get any and we haven't slept, we are totally overwhelmed and want to run away, We don't get the wonderful advice like:

"Well, you wanted four kids"   "I told you" and "What did you think would happen?"  Then and only then will I admit that my hands are truly full.

I will also be hitting anyone and everyone up for babysitting duty. 

How are we going to cope with four?  I have no idea.  I do know that I cannot imagine anything worse than going from one child to two. Two to three was okay.  Now I feel like I already have three, what is one more?

Feel free to remind me of this when over the coming weeks and months I write about my three darlings/monsters and the joy/agony of raising young kids while pregnant, tired and irritable. 

And yes, I will remember that I wanted four.