More is More

I couldn't resist posting more from this "series" that Erin shot over the weekend. These pictures are just SO these kids, if that makes sense. I love how in each one, everyone is doing something different. And the irony is not lost on me that once we had everyone fed, clean and safely ensconced in their little beds on Sunday night, what did I do? Lay in my own little bed and browsed through these pictures, of the small children I was so relieved to have put to bed. Isn't life funny?

We went to a party of an old classmate of Leo's this weekend. These friends throw the same backyard party every year and we all look forward to it. Last year, at six weeks old, it was one of the babies' first social outings. This time, we hadn't seen some of the partygoers in a whole year and everyone was impressed by how big the babies were, how much they'd changed. Of course we heard the usual: "Four kids, how do you do it?" and I gave my stock (true) answer, a shrug and a smile and a "We just do it!"

"But the payoff is going to be so big when the babies get a little older," one of my friends said. "Think of how fun it's going to be."

I've said this to myself (and others) and have written about it here, many times. She's so right (not that it's not fun now--it is, truly.). But I can't be reminded of this enough. This little crew is something else now but in a few years? It's going to be so, so different. It's so easy when you have four little people that are so dependent on you, to forget that these four little people are just that--people. And they are not always going to be little. They are people you will spend your whole life getting to know.

I love how the babies are looking at Leo here, especially Harry. Harry just adores Leo, is fascinated and amused by his big brother's every move.

I was reading a blog the other day where a mom was talking about how she was struggling to keep up with the demands of three kids, two preschoolers (not twins) and an infant. She said that when things get really bleak and when she feels overcome by the neediness and the relentlessness of everyone, she thinks to the future--of a Thanksgiving dinner that her three adult children (and their families, presumably) will come to. That really struck me. Imagine it--four kids--well, four adults, coming to our house for Thanksgiving dinner. As an only child of divorced parents, big, boisterous Thanksgiving dinners with siblings were something for the movies, certainly not something I ever imagined for myself.

I don't want to wish away the babies' babyhood just because it can be hard. Welcome to parenting, right? Welcome to life. Not to mention, these babies are it. These are the last diapers I'll wash, the last little heads to grow heavy on my shoulder as they drift off to sleep, the last soft little buttery backs and arms and shockingly plump little thighs I will wash in the kitchen sink.

Look at how Leo is trying to hold Lucy's tiny hand. He loves these babies in a way I didn't think was possible.

It can be so hard to enjoy the moment. Hard for me, anyway. I think it's one of the most difficult things about parenting, about life really, but it's especially true for me in parenting because on the one hand everyone is telling you to "Enjoy This" (Carpe Diem) because It Won't Be Like This For Long, but at the same time, you're exhausted and there's been non-stop whining and snack fetching and goddammit I still have to make lunches for Monday morning and unload the dishwasher for the ninety-seventh time.

Leo, will you bring pumpkin pie? Ellie, how about cranberry sauce?

And I can't wait to see what Harry's and Lucy's favorite dishes will be. I can see Harry being a mashed potato kind of guy.

But I'm in no hurry.