Sleep-in Morning

Dear kids,
 
Before you wake up, I am sipping my coffee and wondering about the number of quiet minutes I might have.  We had a great night last night.  Dad suggested dinner at the Rainforest Café, so we picked him up from work in the minivan and made the trek.   Everyone was tickled with the moving animals, starry sky, and kids' menu.  "Monkeys!  Mama!! Monkeys!"    Even our littlest got into the fun.  I couldn't help but think back on the one other time we had eaten there as a family on Jim's 4th birthday.   It was two years ago already!   How did that time slip through our fingers?  I remember so well your joy at the sparkler birthday dessert and the Build a Bear workshop.   Frank was just a newborn in a baby carrier.
 
We stopped at Nickelodeon Universe for a few spring break rides, and we ventured home.
 
Tommy and I drove separately to grab groceries.  And get this, my kids:  Tom helped the bag boy pull a second grocery cart out to our car, unload it, and then unload the groceries at home.  And he asked to help put groceries away after that.  Pretty good stuff for an 8 year old.
 
I am so lucky to have four amazing kids.  Sometimes I forget to note how amazing you are!  You are growing into polite, creative, thoughtful people.  You are learning the nuances of friendship, failure, and determination.  It seems like every single day is packed with opportunity.   Summer is coming quickly, and I am looking forward to adventures with you people. 
 
Still asleep up there?   I can hardly believe it.
 
I love you guys to the moon and back.
 
Mom

Three in Three

It is beautiful.

They are peeling with laughter,

Tripping over one another in Twister,

Giggling to choking over popcorn at brother jokes.

Slap happy.

They are asking for a brother sister sleepover.

They are breaking one another's Lego ships and saying it's ok, it's easy to fix.

They are bitter enemies and united allies.

They are sharing their stories of sadness and sharing their glories of accomplishment.

They are doing everything they can to be like one another,

 

And yet everything they can to distinguish themselves as the best.

A sibling team.

They are three kids in three years.

More than we could handle and more than we expected.

A crazy gift of joy and chaos in every moment.

The diapers, the accidents, the naps faded away to an energy unparalleled.

Oh that their laughter would echo decades from now.

That their joy might lift up one another's life in the every day.

This team of monkeys.

A Sunny Winter Morning

Oh family.
 
Jim woke up at the **crack** of dawn this morning.  He starts out with a high-pitched yelp, somewhat from fear of darkness and somewhat to awaken the rest of the household.   It's a bit of an exasperating stage of kindergarten---farting jokes and loud, spastic gestures for effect.  Please calm down, little Jim.
 
The extreme cold broke this week, so I sent the big team outside at 7:30.   There was a flurry of tree-climbing activity (Jim fell), and some ice-throwing.  Then they settled into Team USA bob-sledding in the backyard.   In their minds, it was all gold.
 
Parenting has been a challenge for me lately.  The older kids are SO busy and loud.   They hunger for more and more exercise, food, books, crafts, etc.   They actually amuse themselves very well, but it's their overall energy level that keeps the house feeling frenetic.  I'm weary and agitated.  Just their arrival home from school, with all its noise and commotion, gives me a bit of a nervous tick.
 
Frank is not quite as loud as the team, but he's toddler-boisterous, anyway, and certainly monkeylike.  I can not believe how much of the day he spends finding chairs and stools to push over to a counter for a boost in height.  Now that I think of it, I suppose it would be rather frustrating to feel like all the good stuff has been put out of reach.  I can't quite imagine it as an adult!  
 
It is not all bad around here.   I think the winter has left me in a cooped-up funk, but I don't want to paint the picture as so dismal.   Being a mom to a team of elementary school kids is a proud and beautiful thing.    Just this morning, I cleared the fridge of the fruits of kid labor:  a special napkin sending phonetically-spelled love from Jim for Mom, a carefully drawn picture of the family in some kind of space war.  We also have a crazy troll chia pet, some banana bread, and a Hello Kitty wallet claiming space on the counter.
 
If I were an outsider looking in, I would see so much love and energy in this house. 
 
Thank you for these kids, my God.  I forget to say it too often.  Thank you for their love of brother and sister and mom and dad.  Their love spills over and they can not stop it.  They have so little hesitation in opening up their hearts again and again. 
 
Time to rally the school train.