My People

Some of you remember back in January when my back locked up on me and I was unable to pick up my baby let alone move. Well, out of the blue last night, it started happening again. I woke up this morning barely able to move, with two littles to take care of. And while Lu is helpful! she can't very well pick her 26 pound baby brother up. As I slowly made my way upstairs to get Declan, I had a sudden craving for a Kicker from Dutch Bros. For some crazy reason I thought it would make me feel better.

I made it down the stairs with the baby, praying every step of the way that my back wouldn't seize up. I got the kids breakfast and slowly started the process of making my coffee. Irish cream, half and half, espresso... I sat down. Sort of. It actually felt better to stand. I sipped my coffee and despite my hopes, it didn't make me feel any better. 

How was I going to make it through the day? Tony's at work and I couldn't even take the baby upstairs for the nap he so desperately needed. But it had to be done. I opened the baby gate and followed behind Declan as he crawled up the stairs. I stood by the crib for a good five minutes waiting for him to get close enough to snatch him and lay him down. Success. So what if he's going to sleep with a pan from the play kitchen and banging it on the bars of the crib? He was in bed.

After making it back down the stairs, after about ten minutes of trying to figure out how I was going to make it through the day, Tony walked through the door. My savior. That's when the tough mom facade went out the window and the real pain set in. He helped me to the bed and here I lay, teary eyed, realizing why my coffee drink didn't make me feel better. 

You see, it wasn't the drink. It was the hands that brought it to me last January when my back gave out on me. It's my people. My people that gathered around my family and lifted us up with meals, and coffee and true love. You know you are. And today, know that you are missed, not just for the coffee you brought, or the meals you prepared, but you. You are missed, I didn't know how truly blessed I was with your friendships until I was gone.

Employed.

As most of you know, I had a job interview last week to be a barista at a coffee shop.  The interview was interesting. For starters, I had never been on the opposite side of the spectrum, in terms of age. The interviewers were in their mid 20's, and here I was, trying to hide my gray hairs. It went smoothly, they seemed like really sweet people. Perhaps a bit too hipster for me in that the experience of drinking coffee has brought them to tears before. But who am I? I've seen credit card commercials that have brought out the shaking sobs in me before. 

I left feeling confident. I'd spent most of my early twenties making and serving coffee. I can do it in my sleep. And the sheer thought of doing it again reminded me of my youth, and a more simpler time. Jim with his decaf orange spice tea, Tom with his huge world mug filled with our drip of the day, leaving about an inch of room for cream. Jackie with her one shot decaf, extra hot, extra foam, nonfat chai tea. The regulars, the conversation, the feeling that I am an important part of those people's days... Okay, I'm not in complete denial, we all know it was the beverage that was the important part, but still.

3 days a week. Two weeknights 6pm-midnight and Sunday mornings 8am-2pm. Those were the hours they threw around when talking about the position. I could do that. Tony would be home and I wouldn't have to worry about someone watching my kids. Lets be real, the job wouldn't pay for someone to watch my kids! I got home and cuddled with my baby. As I say there, something stirred in me, I shoved it down. I was excited. I could potentially have a life outside of my children. Which was something I somewhat longed for. I love my kids. They are my life. But I didn't want to lose who I am and the. Wake up 18 years from now with an empty nest and an identity crisis.  

Later that night as I put Declan in his jammies and sat down to cuddle and rock with him before laying him in his crib, that thing began to stir again. Maybe it was the Beatles lullaby music on the CD player, or the burrito I had for lunch, but this time I didn't ignore it. What was I doing? Sitting here, snuggling this little man, giving him my undivided attention, was one of my favorite parts of the day. Wy would I give this up? He's not ready, I'm not ready. What am I doing? 

Now I know there are moms out there who are thinking, "it's guilt. Don't you think if you just weaned him that he would be fine?" Yes, I could wean him, and he would be fine, but that's not the point. It's not even about nursing. It's about the fact that when I had one baby, sure I could wean him and go out and get a part time job and have little problem knowing Daddy was home putting him to bed at night. But he isn't my first, or my second, or even my third. He's my fourth. And do you have any idea how nonexistent his one on one time with me is? That time before he goes to sleep at night is the one and only time during the day that he gets me, all of me. It's sacred and I'm not willing to give it up. Not yet. 

So I made up my mind, unless the job was one shift on Sunday morning, I wasn't going to take it. 

So when the call came on Saturday and the guy on the other end said, "so you want a job?" My response was, "It depends. What hours are you offering?" And to my surprise, he responded with, "What hours do you want?" 

A short conversation later, I'm happy to say, I will be a contributing member of society on Sunday mornings. Call it a blessing, call it what you will, but I didn't compromise what I thought I wanted for what my family needed. And I'm okay with that. In fact, I'm more than okay, I'm happy. 

The Big Ugly

You ever get that feeling that you really need to cry but you're afraid that if you fully give into the cry that you'll never stop? Don't get me wrong, I've cried... A lot this last week. But every time that huge lump wells up in my throat I stop myself. I know this is supposed to be an adventure that we are on but the adventure part seems to escape me at the moment.

All I can think about is : The Stress... Getting 4 kids up and ready at 6:45am, getting all of them through security at the airport, making sure no one goes number 1 or 2 in their undies on the plane, feeding them, making our connecting flight, etc. I've only ever flown 4 times, which brings me to...

The Unknown: I've never even been to Arkansas. What if I hate it? What if I'm miserable? What if our stuff doesn't fit in our house? Even worse, what if my kids don't make friends? Tatum's birthday is in 2 weeks and it will be her first without family or friends to help celebrate. I'm afraid that she will be sad and it breaks my heart.

Leaving our Friends and Family: I can't even start to go there. I started to think about it last night and was overwhelmed with emotion. I'm angry. But I don't know where to focus that anger. I'm hurt and broken. I know that I shouldn't feel this way in my head, that I'm being illogical and that I'll make new friends, but I don't want to listen to my head. My heart says I've reached my quota. I'm 30 and I have the most amazing friends and I shouldn't have to start over, and yet here I am.

I like to think I'm a very organized person. I'm also a planner. I like to know how things are going to go, so I work out the details beforehand. But my belongings are caught in a snow storm somewhere between here and Arkansas and my van won't get to our destination until we've been there a week. So here I sit, squatting at my parents house while my world is turned upside down.

"God is in control... God is in control..." I have this on repeat in my head as I rock back and forth in the fetal position...

Help I Need Somebody.

Really feeling the love today... Too many friends and family members helping out to name, but their actions are more than greatly appreciated. From feeding us, to lending us stuff to sleep on, giving us rides, a home to hang out in and care packages for our kids... It is going to be excruciating to say goodbye.

Limbo...

I'm having a hard time being articulate today. I just deleted an entire post because I felt like I came across as a bit of an idiot. Life is crazy. Scratch that, life FEELS crazy sometimes. Right now it definitely does. But in all honesty, not much is going on. Does that even make sense? Here I am, in my pajamas, sipping on my luke warm coffee while my husband is at work, one child is at school, one is napping and 2 more are playing "nicely" upstairs. Not much going on so it would seem... But in my head, I can't turn off the crazy.

Even when I'm not actively thinking about all the things that could happen to our family in the next, I don't know, month, it's going on in my head without me and it's making my skin crawl. 

I think I might be a control freak.

Which is completely ridiculous because I KNOW I don't have control. 

God is the ultimate captain on this ship called Carrie, sailing through the waters of life. 

*Sidenote: That was an awesome analogy and ALMOST made me feel like I am still smart and that having 4 kids hasn't sucked every last bit of intellect from me.

Something big might be happening to our family. Not bad, just different (no, we are not having any more babies). I can see it on the horizon and I'm torn between terrified and ecstatic. I've battled the pros and cons and the only thing that I've come to realize is that either way, God has control and whichever way the wind blows us, he will protect and care for our family. Now if only I could get my body and my brain to settle down and let my heart remind me of this every minute of every day. That's the control freak in my taking over. I feel like I'm one step away from going complete OCD on everyone.

Who am I kidding? I have 4 kids. The control freak doesn't stand a chance. And therein lies the constant battle between letting go, and letting God and trying to make plans. I am also a planner, you see. And when I don't have control of situations to even know what's going on, I can't PLAN for them. So here I am, my brain is planning through all the what-ifs, but there's nothing actually happening. Insane, right?

This entire post is mostly for myself, if you haven't noticed. Because I'm pretty sure it makes little sense to you... Perhaps the next post in the weeks to come will offer some clarity to both you and I. :)