Words flow through this house like confetti. It is a blur of color and confusion most days --- especially in the mornings. I cannot hear myself think most of the time. Four voices speak at me at the same time -- different voices, different requests and they all want responses - NOW.
This morning is one example. While trying to clean up the morning dishes this is what I hear at the same time:
Goldie: WAAAHHHH I don't want cream cheeeeese! Waahhhh
FunnyGirl: I'm done. Clean me up!
TinyTreasure: I want strawberries! Mommeeee!
PrincessGrace: What happened to my favorite cereal? Where is it? Mom? Where is it?
And then I sigh and shout:
(To Princess): I don't know. Just pick something else.
(To Funny Girl): Would you just wait?!
(To Tiny): Quit yelling at mommy!
(To Goldie): You told me a minute ago you wanted cream cheese and that's what you get!
Then it all starts again...."Waaaaah!" "Mommmeee help me!" "Mom!" "I don't like this!"
I feel a growl curl up in my gut and I want to just throw in the dish towel (literally).
And then I remember something I heard at a baby shower this weekend. A very dear friend of mine who has taught me much about motherhood and being a good wife, read a poem about mothers and what is "urgent" and what is "important." I don't remember what it said exactly but it was along the the lines of "Dishes need cleaned and that is urgent. But my daughter needs me to listen to her and that is important."
Sigh.
Alright, alright.
During all of this chaos I am thinking about my bladder which has been full since 6:30 and it was now 9 a.m. And I am thinking about the meatloaf that I need to mix up and the potatoes that need peeled and the watermelon that I just saw leaking in my fridge...ugh. And then Princess Grace quietly says to me "Mommy, you're not the same as you were in the old house."
For those unaware we built a new house last year and moved in last December.
"What do you mean?"
She was quiet and didn't really respond.
"You look different," she said after a little while. I thought about how I had my hair straightened and mentioned that. I thought of how I worked out less and ate more and thought maybe I am looking bigger. No, that's not it. Then I said I know I am grumpy...no, that's not it either.
Then I remembered the baby shower poem as she walked behind the bar in the kitchen. I knelt down in front of her - eye to eye and asked her to tell me what was wrong. I shut out the others screaming their heads off about cream cheese and strawberries. And what I heard was a little girl who wished her mommy had more free time and less "work." Why was it like that now, she wondered.
I gently explained to her the house is bigger than the old one. The girls are busy and into things and I end up meeting their needs and the work piles up and then I have to catch up on my work and therefore it takes longer. I put her hands in my face and told her that I felt the same way. I too get frustrated when I have so much to do. I would love to just play. I told her that I often cry to her daddy about it and that I would tell her what he told me, "It will get better." She seemed satisfied with that response and I gave her a hug.
As the morning wore on I thought about getting them outside or do something like that. But God showed me they need more than "play time" with mommy. They need to talk to me and I need to hear them and they need to hear me.
Goldie threw a two a year-old fit later that morning and tossed her unwanted toast on the floor. I sat her on the couch -- told her not to move and when she could stop being whiny she could get down. She threw herself in all sorts of positions and cried. I repeatedly put her back in a butt-on-seat position and told her she could get down when she behaved. At one point I turned around in the kitchen and there she stood holding a balloon.
"Back!" I point to the couch and it started again "Waaaaaaah." I was in the bathroom with another triplet and around the corner comes Goldie saying "What are you doin?"
I pointed to the couch "Back!"
"waaaah"
She just wasn't getting it. So I went in with her, sat in front of her and told her why she was there what she needed to do to get out of it.
"If you can sit there one minute without whining or yelling, you may get down." For three minutes she failed the test. Instead of screaming at her, put her back and stood and stared at her. She glared at me that last minute and swiveled her foot back and forth. Finally she gave in and sat quietly. I smiled at her and said "You may get down now."
Instead of running to play she creeped up to me, hugged me and said "Sorry."
I told her I was proud of her for listening and that I loved her. She smiled gleefully -- tears still in her eyes. She grabbed her balloon and bounced into the next room.
Then Funny Girl got her turn. She had to go potty. But she wanted me to stay with her. She asked me to tell her a story. So I started, "Once upon a time there was a little girl..."
"A baby! Me!" she squealed.
"Mommy, am I your baby?"
I chuckled "Yes, you are."
"You hold me and take care of me!"
"Yes!" I said. And as you she sat there on the big toilet, her legs swinging back and forth, she looked happily into my eyes. Mommy was talking to her and she was going to sit on that potty for as long as she could. So at her request we talked about when she was a baby and how she was such a good baby (she really was the best baby you could ask for). I shared with her about how she had surgery at 3 months old and how all the nurses raved about how good she was. She squeezed my neck and said, "Thank you mommy! I'm done now."
So that leaves me with Tiny who as I type is fixing my hair telling me I am "booo-teee full." So I will cease this blog now for Tiny time.
How I love to talk with these precious presents God has given to me.
This morning is one example. While trying to clean up the morning dishes this is what I hear at the same time:
Goldie: WAAAHHHH I don't want cream cheeeeese! Waahhhh
FunnyGirl: I'm done. Clean me up!
TinyTreasure: I want strawberries! Mommeeee!
PrincessGrace: What happened to my favorite cereal? Where is it? Mom? Where is it?
And then I sigh and shout:
(To Princess): I don't know. Just pick something else.
(To Funny Girl): Would you just wait?!
(To Tiny): Quit yelling at mommy!
(To Goldie): You told me a minute ago you wanted cream cheese and that's what you get!
Then it all starts again...."Waaaaah!" "Mommmeee help me!" "Mom!" "I don't like this!"
I feel a growl curl up in my gut and I want to just throw in the dish towel (literally).
And then I remember something I heard at a baby shower this weekend. A very dear friend of mine who has taught me much about motherhood and being a good wife, read a poem about mothers and what is "urgent" and what is "important." I don't remember what it said exactly but it was along the the lines of "Dishes need cleaned and that is urgent. But my daughter needs me to listen to her and that is important."
Sigh.
Alright, alright.
During all of this chaos I am thinking about my bladder which has been full since 6:30 and it was now 9 a.m. And I am thinking about the meatloaf that I need to mix up and the potatoes that need peeled and the watermelon that I just saw leaking in my fridge...ugh. And then Princess Grace quietly says to me "Mommy, you're not the same as you were in the old house."
For those unaware we built a new house last year and moved in last December.
"What do you mean?"
She was quiet and didn't really respond.
"You look different," she said after a little while. I thought about how I had my hair straightened and mentioned that. I thought of how I worked out less and ate more and thought maybe I am looking bigger. No, that's not it. Then I said I know I am grumpy...no, that's not it either.
Then I remembered the baby shower poem as she walked behind the bar in the kitchen. I knelt down in front of her - eye to eye and asked her to tell me what was wrong. I shut out the others screaming their heads off about cream cheese and strawberries. And what I heard was a little girl who wished her mommy had more free time and less "work." Why was it like that now, she wondered.
I gently explained to her the house is bigger than the old one. The girls are busy and into things and I end up meeting their needs and the work piles up and then I have to catch up on my work and therefore it takes longer. I put her hands in my face and told her that I felt the same way. I too get frustrated when I have so much to do. I would love to just play. I told her that I often cry to her daddy about it and that I would tell her what he told me, "It will get better." She seemed satisfied with that response and I gave her a hug.
As the morning wore on I thought about getting them outside or do something like that. But God showed me they need more than "play time" with mommy. They need to talk to me and I need to hear them and they need to hear me.
Goldie threw a two a year-old fit later that morning and tossed her unwanted toast on the floor. I sat her on the couch -- told her not to move and when she could stop being whiny she could get down. She threw herself in all sorts of positions and cried. I repeatedly put her back in a butt-on-seat position and told her she could get down when she behaved. At one point I turned around in the kitchen and there she stood holding a balloon.
"Back!" I point to the couch and it started again "Waaaaaaah." I was in the bathroom with another triplet and around the corner comes Goldie saying "What are you doin?"
I pointed to the couch "Back!"
"waaaah"
She just wasn't getting it. So I went in with her, sat in front of her and told her why she was there what she needed to do to get out of it.
"If you can sit there one minute without whining or yelling, you may get down." For three minutes she failed the test. Instead of screaming at her, put her back and stood and stared at her. She glared at me that last minute and swiveled her foot back and forth. Finally she gave in and sat quietly. I smiled at her and said "You may get down now."
Instead of running to play she creeped up to me, hugged me and said "Sorry."
I told her I was proud of her for listening and that I loved her. She smiled gleefully -- tears still in her eyes. She grabbed her balloon and bounced into the next room.
Then Funny Girl got her turn. She had to go potty. But she wanted me to stay with her. She asked me to tell her a story. So I started, "Once upon a time there was a little girl..."
"A baby! Me!" she squealed.
"Mommy, am I your baby?"
I chuckled "Yes, you are."
"You hold me and take care of me!"
"Yes!" I said. And as you she sat there on the big toilet, her legs swinging back and forth, she looked happily into my eyes. Mommy was talking to her and she was going to sit on that potty for as long as she could. So at her request we talked about when she was a baby and how she was such a good baby (she really was the best baby you could ask for). I shared with her about how she had surgery at 3 months old and how all the nurses raved about how good she was. She squeezed my neck and said, "Thank you mommy! I'm done now."
So that leaves me with Tiny who as I type is fixing my hair telling me I am "booo-teee full." So I will cease this blog now for Tiny time.
How I love to talk with these precious presents God has given to me.
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