I am complete

I clung to my friend Kate for a little extra moment as we hugged goodbye after a park potluck last Friday. She also has 4 children. There is an even greater bond between us now. I admire her a little more seeing that she has not only survived but thrived as her offspring now double outnumber her and her hubby.

Often people look at me with a mix of admiration and sympathy when I tell them I have 4 children. It is pretty much all I think about these days. I have 4 kids. All day long I am asking myself variations of the same 4 questions about all 4 children... 

1. Is M-cube hungry again?
2. Is C-dough poopie again?
3. Is J-cakes happy or sad? (4 year squealing is rather ambiguous)
4. Is G-pie sleeping too late?

Or "are they all in the car?" as I pull out of the driveway... These are the thoughts that cycle through my head as I try to go about the business of self actualization. Who am I? I have 4 kids...

“Three is still O.K.,” said Michelle Lehmann, the founder of lotsofkids.com and a mother of eight children who lives outside Chicago. “When you have four, people start raising eyebrows. When you go to five, people are like, ‘No way.’ ”

OK so I am someone people raise their eyebrows at.

David Letterman asks Jim Gaffigan what it is like to have 4 kids and he answers "Just imagine you are drowning... and someone hands you a baby!" Jim delivers more witty wisdom on his self Mr Universe show, which you can download from his website. Instant date night- just add takeout and a bottle of wine.

Being 1/6th of the way through this most difficult first year, I am becoming more adept at- well, EVERYTHING. I truly amaze myself at what I can get done in a day, and all those chores I have to re-do the next day, gets done even more and more efficiently.

Another interesting side effect is that I am finding it absolutely necessary to be authentic. There is just no time for anything other than the reality of my imperfect thoughts, often inaccurate observations and annoyingly intuitive conclusions. Authenticity is my badge of courage.

My life is full. One moment my breasts are filling up and my baby is rooting in my arms, the next my 10 year old is anxiety ridden over minor social dramas. Then C-dough throws something and J-cakes whines for it's immediate return, and he shouts "My do it!", and the baby cries. G-pie tries to recapture my attention to talk about her friends and M-cube settles in to nursing.

A moment or two is spent worrying over what the other mamas in my tribe think about their behaviors and the implications on my parenting... and then I take a deep breath and do the next thing that presents itself. Often remembering as I stand swaying and staring at a sleeping baby that I really need to call Holly and talk about Sundara Yoga Shala.