A Classic "Books and Brownies" Post

So do you really want to know why I'm starting a PhD program? Do you? Do you? Do you?

Because it can't be harder than this -

A Week in the Life of a Postpartum Homeschooling Mother of Seven 

(originally published September 12, 2008)

Monday morning while cleaning the twins’ disaster of a room (note to self #1: duct tape their arms to their sides so they can’t make messes faster than I can clean them up), the dental office called.  "Gawan needs a cleaning."  I told them that all my children did, except Parzival. (He squeaked out of it because he has no teeth yet.)  So they said, "Can you come in tomorrow?" They must have had some openings and said, "Who can we call who has a lot of children?"

My immediate reaction was "No, I can’t come in tomorrow."  (note to self #2: go with immediate reaction!) But then I started rationalizing that we are not doing full school right now, and so it would be better to do it now rather than later. "OK," I said (note to self #3: make appointments at your convenience rather than the office’s convenience).

We arrived on time. 5 children, 5 cleanings, 0 cavities, 2 referrals for orthodontist appointments.  Oh, and Isolde needs sealants on her new adult teeth.  And make an appointment for six months from now.  (note to self #4: I have no idea what I will be doing six months from now, but I bet it includes either books or brownies!)  So, "Can you bring her in Thursday morning at 8 AM?"

My immediate reaction was, "Are you insane??? Get six children up and dressed and ready and nursed (OK, that’s just one child actually) and get to the dental office which is a half hour away by EIGHT AM????" (note to self #5: CHECK NOTE TO SELF #2!)  But then I started rationalizing (note to self #6: rationalizing on no sleep is dangerous) that we already needed the van on Thursday to go to ballet, so my husband would not have to drive the gas-guzzling truck another day just for Gabrielle to get her sealants, AND we weren't doing full school yet so it would be better to do it now rather than later.  "OK, " I said (note to self #7: consider appointment with psychiatrist).

Tuesday evening I received an email from Isolde’s tutor asking if I wanted to meet for a session the next morning.  Considering that adding that in would make me have to take all the children out 4 mornings in a row, I was cognizant enough to type politely, "I’m sorry, I won’t be able to do that." (note to self #8: scratch the psych appointment – you’re not completely gone yet).

Wednesday evening I left when my husband got home to go to a homeschool support meeting, taking the baby along.  I was looking forward to relaxing, chatting, and possibly getting some ideas I hadn't heard of before since the topic was dealing with little ones while homeschooling.  I figured the baby would sleep and nurse, nurse and sleep – he’s only a month old and that’s all they do, right? (note to self #9: they also cry)

I drove home thinking, "I should have gone to the La Leche League meeting instead and dispensed all my great nursing wisdom to new moms with one baby, instead of going to a homeschool meeting where, even though I have graduated one child who received a full scholarship to college, I felt like an utter failure as a homeschooling mom."  I had listened to everyone’s lovely ideas and suggestions and known without a doubt that none of them would work in my family situation. (note to self #10: do NOT give in to depressive downward spirals)

I stopped at Food Lion and the baby continued to cry through the entire store.  The cashier was terribly concerned that something was wrong with him (I guess she never got note to self #9), which stressed me out.  Sometimes I just want to be invisible, but for some reason when you are pregnant or have a baby or go out with 6 children, you are not allowed to be invisible, which is probably a huge part of the stress I was feeling this week.  I got home and told my husband about all the suggestions and all the reasons they wouldn’t work and his reply was, "We’re doomed." (note to self # 10: try not to take hubby with you on depressive downward spirals)  I then called Beowulf to help him with his German homework (note to self #11: homeschooling doesn't actually end, you just do it at midnight on the phone).

In all my depressing my husband, I forgot to ask him to wake me up the next morning in time for our 8 AM appointment.  "No problem," I thought at 3 AM, "Parzival usually wakes up around 6ish."  (note to self #12: a baby is not a reliable alarm clock)  I rolled over and saw the clock said 7:14 AM.  Did I mention the dentist is a half hour away?

We were twenty minutes late.  I had hopes that, since only one child was being seen, it would be faster than the appointments on Tuesday, but after an hour of sitting in the full waiting room refereeing little boy quarrels, I decided all little boys needed to go outside to the van, where I proceeded to referee little boy quarrels in privacy while ignoring the fact that they were making a mess (note to self #13: see note to self #1 and consider applying said duct tape to their mouths too).  When Isolde finally came out, I quickly scrapped any thought of doing other errands and drove straight home to have lunch.  (note to self #14: skipping breakfast while nursing is a bad idea.  Skipping breakfast while nursing after having skipped dinner the night before is a worse idea.)

In my two hours at home before leaving for tutoring and ballet, I called a friend who also has a lot of children and very little money and confirmed my initial suspicion that none of the lovely ideas floated around at the homeschooling meeting would work for us. I had to cut the commiseration short to get to tutoring on time.  It went much better this week because I had the good sense to corral the twins in the double stroller while in the library. (note to self # 15: everything goes much better when the twins are corralled)

After errands, I stopped and picked up some Japanese food because I was starving and headed to ballet, where I ate the entire thing (it usually makes 2 meals) while managing to spill soy sauce all over the baby’s blanket. (note to self #16: keep baby out of path of sauces)  Then I managed to knock over a cup of water as well. (note to self #17: if you ever need to wake Parzival up quickly, dump a cup of water on him.  Works like a charm!)  Unfortunately, the water did not take care of the soy sauce issue.  Then I decided to stay away from liquids for the remaining time at ballet. (note to self #18: lack of sleep could be the cause of the spilling problem)

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.  I was absolutely physically exhausted. (note to self #19: DO NOT EVER TAKE ALL THE CHILDREN OUT IN THE MORNING AND AGAIN IN THE AFTERNOON AGAIN!)

I have no real memory of last night aside from making brownies (I always have energy for that!), reading two paragraphs of the biography of Joyce Kilmer to my daughters, which we have been reading since, uh, June, probably.  (note to self #20: try not to let birth of new baby interfere with read-aloud schedule), and answering their question for the million trillionth time that no, I have not heard from the friend they want to go visit and I would tell them the exact minute that I do hear from said friend. (note to self #21: call friend this weekend so dear daughters can move on to asking me a different question fifty thousand times)

Obviously not having paid any attention to note to self #12 from Thursday morning, I assumed I would be awake in plenty of time to take the baby to his ultrasound at the hospital at 10 AM. (note to self # 22: have husband teach me how to set alarm clock)  When I woke up the clock said 8:47 AM, leaving us one hour and thirteen minutes to get everyone fed, dressed, and buckled in the car and then drive thirty minutes to the hospital, find a spot in the parking deck, park and unbuckle everyone and corral the twins in the double stroller (note to self #23:  good job paying attention to note to self #15!), plop baby in the sling and walk to the hospital, and find out where exactly we were going.

We arrived 20 minutes late again.  After playing laboratory rats in a maze (with lots of bystanders thinking, "Look at the mother rat with all her little rat offspring!") we found Children’s Radiology.  Parzival was quite patient and good with women pouring gunk on his head and trying to see inside.  The results seemed reassuring and we were cleared for takeoff at 11:30ish. I left my cell phone at home, and I have broken every watch Roger has ever given me, so I didn’t know what time it was exactly.  In the elevator I got a bit dizzy because I had ignored note to self #14.  I got in a minor panic at the van because I couldn’t find my house keys although I knew I had them.  Turned out they were where I normally put them in the double stroller compartment thingie.  I stopped and bought us all some bagels to hold us over until we got home for lunch. (note to self #24: children eating bagels at noon IS lunch!)

When I got home, Siegfried called to hear about the ultrasound and then told me to rest that afternoon.  Resting consisted of nursing the baby, washing dishes because our dishwasher is broken, hanging laundry because our dryer is broken, putting the twins down for their nap and then going back in every five minutes to put them back in their cribs and turn the light off while saying firmly, "Schlafenzeit!" and then finally giving up and going back in two seconds after putting them in their cribs to inform them cheerfully, "Naptime is over!" so they don’t think that they are declaring their nap done while trying to write a blog post. (note to self #25: check dictionary for definition of rest)

The little boys were all starving at five and wanted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.   They hadn’t had a snack and the bagels were a long time ago so I let them while putting water on for spaghetti for dinner. When they were still eating at 5:30, I decided to call that dinner for the little ones so they could go to bed early. (note to self #26:  sandwiches at 5 is dinner)

Siegfried got home and installed a childproof doorknob cover on both sides of the twins’ door because, in addition to recently learning how to climb out of their cribs, they have also gotten quite adept at opening doors, and find it great fun to open their door while "taking a nap," scream into the hallway, and then slam the door shut.  I got the twins ready for bed while Roger was on the phone with the dishwasher repairman, but then could not get their door open to put them to bed (I’ve never been good with locks or doors).  The baby had to nurse, so the twins got a reprieve until Daddy was done on the phone. (note to self #27: really MUST work on door opening skills when I have a spare moment)

Finally, the twins are asleep, exhausted from a hard day’s work of causing chaos and mayhem wherever they go, Ryan is in bed, the girls have gone to bed with nary a whimper about not reading to them since I am eating my dinner (the bagels at noon were a long time ago, and brownies aren’t that filling), and Roger and I are watching the last episode of Dallas on our current Netflix disk.  Sue Ellen is pregnant!

I normally try to stay away from the "I deserve" mentality, but I really think that after this week, I deserved exactly what I got tonight: Dallas, Enrique CDs, brownies, reading Bridget Jones’s Diary, cuddling my cute baby and being thankful he’s healthy, and sharing it all with my friends via this blog.  Good night, and let’s pray that everyone in Texas is safe tonight! (note to self #28: get some sleep!)