From Yesterday

Yesterday I was not a good mom.

Most days I like to think I'm pretty good.  That I'm doing an ok job.  I'm happy, the kids are happy, everyone has been fed and no one has been sitting in poop for more than a few minutes.  Those are good things.  Most days I love what I'm doing, I adore all four kids, and I can't imagine not having them in my life.  Most days I can successfully take all four to Target, Costco, the mall, the museum, the library, or the park all by myself and we have a good time.  Yes, my house is messier than I'd like, and yes although I do laundry every day it doesn't necessarily get put away that same day (or week), but eh.  It's just for a short time.  It's just until these little suckers get old enough to do chores and then I'll have my own little Annie orphanage of sorts to put to work!  And yes, the only free time I have is an hour in the afternoon when they're all asleep at the same time (if I'm lucky), and an hour after everyone goes to sleep at night which means I'm up waaaaaay later than I want to be, but that's ok because I need that hour.  And it's all ok because most days, I can handle it and feel really great about where we are right now.  I'm lucky.

But not yesterday.

Yesterday I was not a good mom.

Yesterday I lost my temper, I screamed back, I let them see my I-want-to-sell-you-to-gypsies-face.  I gave in when they wanted candy so the screaming would stop.  I put on movies so they'd give me a few minutes of quiet.  I yelled when they yelled.  I threw tantrums right along with them.  I cried when they cried.  I grit my teeth, I said "Because I said so", I literally threw something across the house because I was so sick of getting hit with it.  I did not hold my shit together very well.

Not all day obviously.  There were nice moments.  There were still hugs, and kisses, and stories that got read, and songs that got sung, and puzzles that got put together, and everyone got some sort of meal, and baths were had.  And I told them I loved them.  So many times.

But for the most part I do not feel good about yesterday.

But I am also ok with that.

Out of the last six weeks of having four teeny tiny kids I can count on one hand the amount of significantly bad times we've had.  And that's including these last two weeks of having five out of the six of us be super sick.

And I'd say those are pretty good odds.  I'd say that's downright pretty great.

It doesn't mean yesterday doesn't feel bad.  It does.  It's lingering in my mouth like a bad taste, it's clouding my thoughts a little this morning.  But I'm pushing it aside, and telling myself - that's ok.  Yesterdays happen.  You are doing a great job.

Repeat after me: your kids are alive and you love them - you are doing a great job.

And today will be better.

Today I will be a better mom.

Labor and Delivery Part 1

Sorry it's taken so long!  The babies are five and a half weeks old already!  I'm not sure how that happened so fast, I feel like I was just in the hospital with a grown woman's arm all up in me (Oh my god, ALL up in there) (Like if I birth a watch later we'll know where it came from.) (more on that later), and now I have the all clear to exercise and have sex already!

Not that either of those are going to happen because the way I get pregnant I'll be doing sit ups and Josh will text me and I'll get pregnant.  Instead, we will from here on out express our love with high fives and sexy winks.  Because four kids are amazing, truly, I cannot tell you how in love I am with these little boys!  But also, four kids is enough.  So we're going on the pill, the diaphragm, condoms, foam, the female condom, the depo shot, a nicotine patch, and a vasectomy.

Not that you needed to know all that, but there you go!  I will literally have a drugstore in my vagina.

Ok, on to the babies!

Oh, how miserable I was those last few week.

This is me the day before I had the babies.  

Not even gonna pretend.

I'm not typically a I-need-my-mommy type of a person.  I mean I talk to her on the phone every day and of course I need her, but I'm also INCREDIBLY stubborn and independent and hate to be told what to do, so I need her but I don't usually need her to come in help me because the inner three year old in me always says, "No!  I'll do it myself!"  But a few days after Christmas I was so uncomfortable, and unable to move or do anything that I called my mom crying and begged her to get on a plane that second.  Which she did without question.  Because she is my mom.  A superhero.

And I thought I was going to have the babies any second.  And then she was here for two weeks and the babies still were not here!  Those boys were hanging on with all their might, much to the shock of everyone.  Even the doctor who checked me was like, "I don't think we'll see you again."  But of course I saw them.  I walked around four centimeters dilated and at zero station (head is pretty much out) for a LONG time.  Usually when you're that progressed you're in the hospital screaming in pain, but my body was all, Nah.  Let's just slowly eek these suckers out and test Amy's will to live.

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I really couldn't even breathe without being uncomfortable especially with the PUPPS rash taking over my body in a cruel form of torture on someone full term pregs with two massive boys.

You get it.  Mama wasn't happy.

I know I'm smiling, but that's only so I won't cry in front of Addie.  Again.

So, anyway - Friday Jan 9th I went into the hospital to get a test done to make sure things were ok in there.  I was sure we were leaving.  I was sure we were going home and I'd be pregnant forever, but everyone else had other plans.

My doctor walked in and was like, "Hey!  Let's have these babies today!" and I immediately started shaking and sweating and hyperventilating.  Not because I didn't want to have them, but because I didn't want to have them.  Like, having babies is not easy and I sort of prefer not knowing things are about to get ridiculously painful, I'd rather just have it happen.  I also had a premonition it was going to be fast and furious and was not ready for the chaos.  But oh man I had no idea how fast or furious.

But luckily (?) I had Strep B this time and had to be on antibiotics for four hours before anything could happen so while I was getting that Josh and I chilled on my hospital bed and watched back to back episodes of Say Yes To The Dress.  Because he loves me.  And I was about to give him two sons so he can watch whatever I say he can watch!

(Just kidding, he secretly loves Say Yes To The Dress.  And So You Think You Can Dance.  And Teen Mom.)

And then, after those four hours flew by my doctor bounced in and announced she was going to break my water.  Easy!

And she did.

And that's when    shit.  got.  real.  ya'll.


But first!  Some pictures.

I took all four to the museum by myself!  Addie celebrated by growing eagle wings.

Baby boys loving each other.

Calm burritos listening to their dad sing inappropriate rap songs in the middle of the night.

Tula rocking the Elsa hair.

Henry getting his first taste of sunshine.

And Luke getting his.

Man I love them.