Ahh... another hurdle to Christmas is done. Don't get me wrong, I love Halloween, but pretty much the second I get home from vacation, I'm ready to get out the sweaters and hang my stocking by the chimney. I have almost no use for August and not much more for September. I ADORE Christmas. I love the shoppers, I love the decorations, I love the 24 hour Christmas music radio station. I'm a serious dork.
However, Halloween is where we are and we had a lovely evening with our friends. Today, we babysat for my good friend Trish. Her son Tyler is only a couple months older than Maggie, so needless to say there was a lot of talking about sharing. The kids all do really well together though and it was actually a really great day with all four. Gave me a little hope for my future!
Later, a whole gaggle of my friends and their kids arrived and I had the satisfaction of having more people than I have chairs for. I seriously love to have everyone over. A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I had a boyfriend who didn't like to have guests over. That may be unfair, I tend to stress and get wound up before people come over, especially in my pre-children, neat house days, but he didn't seem to get the same kind of enjoyment I did from having a houseful. My fantasy was that some day, I'd have the house in the neighborhood that everyone comes to and wants to hang around with us. So far, so good. Jeff is a natural entertainer and he understands that my freaking out is part of my enjoyment of the occasion :)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Well, the panic has begun.
I'm now about 17 weeks pregnant with "Bullseye" and the panic over having 4 kids under age 6 has begun. How am I ever to give them all the attention they each deserve? How can we afford to send them all to college? How will I ever get a shower again?
I know that when the time comes we'll just deal with things as they come, but I have all this time to think about things. Especially with Maggie giving us such a hard time at bedtime and Jack is starting to become a light sleeper, I worry about how any of us are ever going to sleep again. I know that Jeff and I are good parents and I'm soooo thankful that we have a good relationship, cause if we didn't, I think the stress of 4 kids would put a serious crimp in our style.
Thankfully, we have many, many good friends and our parents are always there when we need them. People keep offering help, they're going to be surprised how much we take them up on it! I remind myself that there's a reason we don't really remember our early childhood and while my mom assures me it's cause I was perfect, I'm sure she yelled at me for not great reasons at times and I don't remember any of it. As a matter of fact, my earliest memory of really getting yelled at wasn't until 6th grade, when I scratched my mother's brand new car (it was an accident, but wow, you'd have thought I took a screwdriver to the paint). So in the end, hopefully, what they'll remember is the good times, not the crazy bedtimes or the not so great mornings before Mommy's had her coffee.
So in the end, this is a blog about my panic, but also a warning... don't offer help unless you mean it, and I'm sorry for the crabby pregnant lady I'm going to be for the next couple months!
I know that when the time comes we'll just deal with things as they come, but I have all this time to think about things. Especially with Maggie giving us such a hard time at bedtime and Jack is starting to become a light sleeper, I worry about how any of us are ever going to sleep again. I know that Jeff and I are good parents and I'm soooo thankful that we have a good relationship, cause if we didn't, I think the stress of 4 kids would put a serious crimp in our style.
Thankfully, we have many, many good friends and our parents are always there when we need them. People keep offering help, they're going to be surprised how much we take them up on it! I remind myself that there's a reason we don't really remember our early childhood and while my mom assures me it's cause I was perfect, I'm sure she yelled at me for not great reasons at times and I don't remember any of it. As a matter of fact, my earliest memory of really getting yelled at wasn't until 6th grade, when I scratched my mother's brand new car (it was an accident, but wow, you'd have thought I took a screwdriver to the paint). So in the end, hopefully, what they'll remember is the good times, not the crazy bedtimes or the not so great mornings before Mommy's had her coffee.
So in the end, this is a blog about my panic, but also a warning... don't offer help unless you mean it, and I'm sorry for the crabby pregnant lady I'm going to be for the next couple months!
Friday, October 2, 2009
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