I don’t know how she does it

Poorly, quickly, messily, and with a lot of drama, usually!

I’m not doing much these days. I’m homeschooling, I’m occasionally getting a glimpse at Oprah, I’m seeing My Chemical Romance once in a while. Animal is sick, Mineral is his usual crazy self. The Informant is very helpful around the house, My Masterpiece is one stubborn kid. And, REPEAT. It’s not very exciting, and then it’s 10pm, and then it’s nursing 24352352x/night and then it’s 7am and it all starts again.

I cook, I send My Chemical Romance + a kid or four, to Target for groceries, I wear TD in a sling/carrier/wrap, I eat.  I put away laundry. The kids do their laundry, put it away, pour milk on cereal, make peanut butter and jelly, ride their bikes, color, fill out workbook pages, and vacuum.

I’m working on life with Mineral. He is a challenging child. I’m reading “The Explosive Child,” for some suggestions on making life with him easier. He is very easily irritated by his siblings; being the oldest of five doesn’t help. Food is another difficulty. He is very rigid about what he wants and doesn’t want — and often what he wants/doesn’t want conflicts with what the family needs/doesn’t need. He is inflexible and anxious — and I empathize greatly — and parenting him is hard.

I’m also reading “Punished By Rewards,” by Alfie Kohn (I just almost wrote Kofie Annan, LMFAO! I’m tired!) While I find the subject fascinating, I find the actual writing itself very very dry. And for someone who is sleep-deprived, dry writing doesn’t help.

Bedtime. Nursing time.

Larger than my baby’s head

With all the weight I’ve gained over the years, then lost after my weight loss surgery, and then gained 40lbs during pregnancy — throughout all of that, my breasts have stayed constant. One of my friends referred to them as my “giant nursing appendages.” In a nod to politics, I freely post breastfeeding pictures on Face*book, and yes they are obscene by Face*book standards because I’m using my breasts to feed my child and I’m not in a bikini making duck face.

Anyway, here I am, alive, with a family that now includes My Chemical Romance, Animal, Mineral, The Informant, My Masterpiece, The Dog Without a Downside, and Tax Deduction. Who might get a new name. One friend suggested Magnum Opus, because I just love my little TD so much, and I have so many hormones coursing through my body, I think TD is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen, and I am preternaturally cheerful.  I don’t mind nursing 23/7. I rarely put TD down, making use of my 252352353 slings and carriers and pouches and wraps. (My favorites are Two Mommas Design half-buckle tai; Sleeping Baby Productions ring sling that my mom made; New Native pouch.)

Keeping up with so many children is a little rough. Some days are easier than others. I learned the first week alone that I can only do errands on certain days (T/Th) and that giving my kids outside chores (like walking the dog) is helpful. Animal and Mineral have a lot of energy. Mineral and The Informant are very impulsive. And My Masterpiece is a genuine three-year-old.

Moo!

 

Quick Christmas homebirth story

My Absolutely Amazing Homebirth of the Christmas Baby

The short version: I started having contractions around midnight on Cmas morning. I stayed in bed til I couldn’t rest anymore, then I got up and walked around.  Whenever I’d feel a contraction, I’d sway my hips like I was dancing.  I didn’t feel like I needed anyone so I didn’t wake up my husband or my mom (who was visiting) or call my midwife. I just walked around the house and swayed.

I was tired, but every time I tried to lie down the contractions would get really intense until I got back up and moved. Around 5am things got even more intense and I decided that at 6am I’d start making calls/waking people up.  I woke up my husband for a few last-minute housekeeping errands; by then the kids were up and eager to open presents.  My kids, my husband, and my mom opened Christmas presents – while I called my midwife and asked her to come over. After we hung up, things got extremely intense (I know I keep using that word, but I don’t have any other word to describe it!) and I called her back and asked her to talk me on her cell phone til she arrived at my house.

When she got here she examined me and said I was complete except for a small lip, and the baby was at +3. My bag of waters was still intact and I begged her to break them – which is ironic because I’m fairly anti-ROM! She suggested I get on hands-knees to make the lip go away. While on hands-knees, the contractions were really powerful and I could feel them all throughout my pelvis. It was the first time I’ve had pain in my back during a labor.

My water broke during a contraction – at which point the contractions actually got less intense! I sat on the toilet until I felt the urge to push. I found pushing to be very painful and at that point I didn’t think I could do it. I just didn’t think I could get the baby out. However, after what felt like forever on the toilet to me (my midwife said it was only a few minutes; in reality she was only at my house for an hour before the baby was born) my Christmas baby girl was born at 8AM. The placenta came out a few minutes later, and I hardly had any bleeding. She is 7lbs 11oz. She’s perfect and loves to nurse. After the birth I got into bed with her and we cuddled and nursed. It was a beautiful perfect birth – exactly what I wanted. I could not have imagined a better birth.

SuperMom versus The Comic Books of Doom!

Welcome to the September Carnival of Natural Parenting: We’re all home schoolers

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month our participants have shared how their children learn at home as a natural part of their day. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

***

I love to read. I was not one of those kids who taught myself to read when I was three, but at some point I learned, and I loved reading. My Oma reads. I remember spending the night at her house on weekends, and we’d sit together at the dinner table, ignoring each other, each engrossed in a book we took out from the library. My other grandmother bought me books. (To this day, I still think that purchasing books is a status symbol. Forget seeing a 2011 Honda Odyssey Touring minivan; my real mommy-envy comes from seeing a house full of books that don’t have city barcodes on them.)

My mom is a big reader as well. She read to me, long past the point of when I was old enough to read to myself.  In fact, I remember the last book she ever read out loud to me, when I was at least 10; The Pigman by Paul Zindel.  There were always books around when I was growing up, and magazines. Lots of printed material in the bathroom.  At breakfast, I read the back of the cereal box.

I assumed that when they got to the age of five, my children would be readers as well.

They’re not.

To say that this irked me would be an understatement. Having children who didn’t read – and I currently have twin 7-year-olds, a 5-year-old, and an almost 3-year-old, with only one reader among them – felt like a splinter in my non-dominant hand. Some days it irritated me a little, enough to Google for a remedy. Some days it didn’t bother me at all. But it was always there, in the back of my head, prodding me: my children didn’t read.

The September after they turned five – and with trepidation – I sent my twins, Animal and Mineral, to public kindergarten.  In my heart, I wanted to homeschool, but the practicality of homeschooling with four young children seemed impossible.  And I did love the mommy break for seven hours each day, when I went from four kids down to two.  But after a few months of school, I determined that they were neither learning nor having fun – either would have been a good enough reason to keep them in school – and I decided to homeschool.

I started the year with an expensive math curriculum and “Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.” I’ll spare the long details, but suffice it to say that we lasted about 11 lessons, and I never found them easy.  Mineral tolerated it; Animal was downright hostile toward it.

My next tactic was going to the library every week.  This wasn’t much of a chore for me; I’d go to the library at least that much on my own.  The mission was keeping Animal and Mineral off the computers. Once I mastered that, I tried to keep them away from the comic books.

The *^$@#%($ comic books, I tell you!  If having non-readers felt like a splinter, having children who coveted comic books felt like Chicken Pox.  It was so incredibly annoying. It was like they could see how badly I wanted them to read – and not just read, but love reading – and yet instead of reading like I wanted them to, they wanted to look at cartoons.

Trying to be a hard-ass mom, I only allowed them to take out a comic book if they also took out a “real” book.  They might love comic books, but I would show them who was boss! They grudgingly obliged me, but later I’d find the “real” book in my car, while they sat on the couch with their comics (typically upside down, and reading from right to left).

My epiphany came a few months later when I was in the hospital with dehydration. (Not comic-book-hatred related.)  I was admitted for a few days, with an IV in my arm and giving poop samples in a cup, and my husband brought all the kids to see me.  Animal and Mineral proudly brought me a 3-ring-binder, in which they’d made a comic book. For me. Their awful, irritated, passively-aggressively-trying-to-force-them-to-read mom.

I took my pooping in a cup as penance, and vowed to encourage reading of any kind, even if it wasn’t my kind. And that’s what it was really about anyway: I wanted them to read the way I thought was right.

I would not label myself as an unschooler, although that’s how I am now when it comes to reading.  We have books.  We have computers.  We have a TV and I use closed-captioning, because when you’re in a house with four young kids and a dog, it doesn’t matter how loud you turn the TV volume, you will still miss most of the characters’ conversations. The kids have games and toys that they want to understand, all of which require reading.  One of them reads. The other three don’t read yet.  I am okay with that.  They all love comic books.  I’m okay with that too.

***

Visit Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

• A is for Apple {But right now it’s more fun to pick apples!} — Kat at Loving {Almost} Every Moment has a four-year-old who wisely knows she must forgo the worksheets for now and do things with her mother if she’s going to learn.
• Baby Talks — Amy at Anktangle talks, talks, talks all day long to her preverbal baby, about simple things and complexities. (@anktangle)
• Baby University: Little Man, My Teacher — The ArtsyMama shares how her relaxed and patient “teaching” at home resulted in a confident little one when she returned to work.
• Creating a Sensory Garden — A sensory garden has given Marita at Stuff With Thing and her girls practice in math, science, budgeting, fine motor skills, and more. (@leechbabe)
• Despite the Big Yellow Bus — Seonaid at The Practical Dilettante has surprised many friends by sending her kids off to mainstream schooling — but their learning doesn’t stop there. (@seonaid_lee)
• Down on the Farm — Megan at Purple Dancing Dhalias describes the multitude of skills her children learn by homeschooling on a farm.
• Early Childhood Education — First Do No Harm — Laura at Laura’s Blog provides an incredible list of tips to facilitate learning at home.
• Education Starts At Home — Luschka at Diary of a First Child was happy to realize that learning at home isn’t limited to older children. (@lvano)
• Every Day Is A School Day — Summer at Finding Summer lists the ways her family learns in this poem of a post. (@summerminor)
• hands on — the grumbles at grumbles and grunts read her little one Sherlock Holmes in utero. She’ll continue to make learning fun now that he’s on this side of the womb. (@thegrumbles)
• Have a Happy Heart — Erica at ChildOrganics has days of poop on the couch and oatmeal down the pants when sending her children to school seems like the perfect solution — until she regains her perspective. (@childorganics)
• Home Sweet Home Schooling — Check out CurlyMonkey’s Blog for a photo montage of how her kids are learning anatomy, architecture, and more — all at home. (@curlymonkey_)
• Homeschooling — My Needs? — Do you homeschool for the kids, or do you do it for you? Read some thoughts from Home Grown Families. (@momtosprouts)
• Homeschooling: A Way of Life — Kimberly at Homeschooling in Nova Scotia has children who meet learning with enthusiasm and are becoming self-sufficient at a young age. (@UsborneBooksCB)
• How We Homeschooled — Deb at Living Montessori Now details in retrospect how her two lifelong learners spent their homeschooling years. (@DebChitwood)
• Learning at Home With a Preschooler and Toddler — Need some inspiration? Michelle at The Parent Vortex shares her tips and resources for lifelong learning. (@TheParentVortex)
• Learning at Home: Are We All Homeschoolers? — Kristin at Intrepid Murmurings incorporates homeschool ideas even though she plans to send her kids to school. (@sunfrog)
• Learning From Life — Mamapoekie at Authentic Parenting doesn’t even have to think about how her daughter learns. She just does it. (@mamapoekie)
• Learning Through Play — What better way to learn at home than through play? Dionna at Code Name: Mama lists the many ways children learn through play, whether they know it or not. (@CodeNameMama)
• Learning With Savoury Pikelets — Deb at Science@Home breaks down how cooking facilitates learning. (@ScienceMum)
• Lessons Learned by Bowling (Yes, Bowling) — What life lessons can you learn from bowling? Ask Jessica from This is Worthwhile. (@tisworthwhile)
• Life is learning, learning is life. — Kristin, guest posting at Janet Fraser — Where birth and feminism intersect, defends the truth that children are hardwired to learn. (@JoyousLearning)
• life learning… — Mandy at Living Peacefully with Children found that structured schooling is about teaching, whereas unschooling is about learning, and her family resonated with the latter.
• Live to Learn Together — RealMommy at True Confessions of a Real Mommy knows that children learn in all different styles, so only one-on-one attention can do the trick.
• Natural Parenting and the Working Mom — Jenny from Chronicles of a Nursing Mom shares how natural parenting in the Philippines — and learning at home — includes “yayas” (nannies). (@crazydigger)
• Not Back to School: How We Learn at Home — Denise at This Holistic Life has learned to describe what unschooling is, rather than what it isn’t.
• Our Learning Curve — Andrea of Ella-Bean & Co. has a special bookshelf set up where her daughter can explore the world on her own terms.
• School at Our House — Where is learning happening at Kellie at Our Mindful Life’s house? It is pouring all over the floor. It is digging down deep in the earth. It is everywhere!
• Schooling Three Little Piggies — Despite the mess and the chaos, Melissa at White Noise lets her children into the kitchen.
• SuperMom versus The Comic Books of Doom! — Mommy Soup at Cream of Mommy Soup realized that if “getting the kids to read” was the goal, it didn’t matter what the kids read. (@mommysoup)
• The joy of learning at home — Heather at Life, Gluten Free has a daughter who sees magic in the stars and understands the honeybees. (@lifeglutenfree)
• those who can’t teach — Do you need a superiority complex to homeschool? Stefanie at Very, Very Fine wonders.
• Too lazy to unschool? — If unschoolers aren’t lazy, Lauren at Hobo Mama wonders if she’s too lazy to live her dream of free-form education. (@Hobo_Mama)
• Unschooling the School of Me — Rachael at The Variegated Life considers what she’s teaching her son about work as a work-at-home mother — and the extreme work ethic she doesn’t want him to emulate. (@RachaelNevins)
• What We Do All Day — Alison at BluebirdMama discovered that it’s easier than she thought it would be to quantify how her child learns all day. (@childbearing)
• Who taught that kid ‘exoskeleton’? — Nervous about how you will facilitate learning at home? Don’t be – they will absorb things on their own! Joni Rae at Tales of a Kitchen Witch Momma shares her story. (@kitchenwitch)

The very brief birth story of Animal and Mineral

Note: They are 7.5yo now, so many many of the details are hazy, but here’s what I recall. I wrote this for someone on mothering.com who asked about hospital vaginal birth of twins. Parentheses go into a little more detail for those who aren’t birthy people. I really wish I’d written their birth story just after I had them!

Monozygotic (“identical;” from one egg that split) twins with TTTS (they shared a placenta, with two sacs, and had a discordance in the shared blood vessels which is fairly rare).

I was induced at 34w due to IUGR  (intra-uterine growth restriction; not uncommon in TTTS donor twins) for several weeks (as seen in ultrasound) in baby A (Mineral). I had a lot of ultrasounds and non-stress tests and bio-physical profiles during the pregnancy due to TTTS. I was on bedrest from the day I found out I was having twins — with TTTS — at 18w til the day I gave birth.

I was induced with cervidil; I never had any cytotec or pitocin, thank goodness. I was supposed to get pitocin after 12h on cervidil, but I didn’t need it. They were born about 8h after it was inserted. I’m so grateful that the labor was fairly short.

I labored in my own clothes in a room on the “high-risk” floor — basically it just meant I was hooked up with continuous external fetal monitoring and there was no birth tub or anything cool like that. I had a fantastic doula who helped hold the monitors in place so that I could stand upright — I stood up for most of the labor. I am very grateful to her. I’m not sure I could have had a vaginal birth in the hospital without her.  (You can see her hand holding one of the monitors in my pic.)

I got off the monitors as frequently as possible to pee. I remember that being hooked up to two fetal monitors and one contraction monitor was REALLY annoying. It was hard to keep them in place. Luckily the nurses left me alone for the most part.

I had an epidural (by choice; I wasn’t into natural birth back then!) and felt the urge to push when Mineral”s water broke (spontaneously, fairly soon after the epidural). At that point I was rushed into an OR and could only have one person with me. I chose my mom (I was a single mom of twins, so it was just between my mom and my doula).

There were at least 10 people in the room. Obstetrician, maternal-fetal medicine doctor, nurses, neonatal doc, two NICU nurses — and for all I know there was a freakin’ orderly cleaning up in there, or a student, or a person reading time off the clock. I didn’t really care, except that they were all giving me different orders of what to do/not do. That was kind of scary, plus the urge to push was INTENSE. I felt overwhelmed.

(My mom always interjects the story of how I practically stood up on the bed and yelled, “Everyone calm down!” and one of the nurses gave me a look and said, “No; YOU calm down!” SNORT. I was 23 years old, I was single, I was not supposed to be in labor yet, and everyone was YELLING AT ME. Bitch.)

Mineral shot out without crowning. He was the donor twin, only 3lbs 11oz. Animal”s water broke about five minutes later and his foot slid out. He was a foot-first breech. At that point, everyone really started to yell at me to push. I did, and out he came. He was 5lbs 10oz.

Mineral

Animal

I’d been told that because there was a size discrepancy (which is a TTTS thing), and because Animal was bigger, it might be hours between them, but it was only about 10 minutes, if that. As soon as they were out, I thought, “I can totally do this again!” and I did, twice more, at a birth center and at home. And planning another homebirth with this one.

They were in the NICU for a week, a pediatric room for a few days after that, and then we all went home. They were kind of small compared to other kids for the first year or so, but they caught up fast.

The Wrist-Hair of Doom

I feel like I’m becoming Mrs. Duggar, or a moms on “Kids By the Dozen” — of which RenRedux’s cousin is one! — with all these weird pregnancy-related symptoms. At least I can comfort myself with the fact that this is only kid #5, so it’s not like this is normal for me. Here goes the freakshow list:

1. The Long Wrist-Hair of Doom (no picture)

I can’t take a picture because it’s just this one tiny hair but it grows like three times as long as my other arm hair — but only when I’m pregnant. It’s so weird. One hair. Only when I’m pregnant. If it were dark, I’d pluck it, but it’s actually very light. And long. It blows in the breeze.

2. The Cavernous  Diastasis Recti of the Mountains

My friend Heather first noticed it several months ago. I was laying down on my couch so that she could palpate my uterus — she has two sets of identical twins, and I wanted to know if she thought my uterus felt huge and freakish like hers had — and as I started to sit up she said, “Nice diastasis.” I was like, “What the what?” And then I looked it up. Somewhere between the twin pregnancy, the two singletons that followed, the weight gain, the incredibly invasive weight-loss surgery, the subsequent weight loss, and this pregnancy and weight gain (20lbs so far, and enjoying every meal), my abdominal muscles separated. And the space between is cavernous. And it moves.

Tonight I went out with Wii and we got pedicures and as I settled in my chair, it moved and the pedicurist (?) got all excited that the baby was kicking me. I said, “Nope, that’s just me,” and I flexed my stomach muscles (SNORT!) for her to make it move more. She was very impressed. (Incidentally, the baby is the size of a speck, and the kicks I feel are very low.)

It is begging for a name. “The Cavernous Diastasis Recti of the Mountains” is too long. Please advise.

3. My feet are growing.

This is a normal pregnancy one, but I find it particularly offensive. Shoes are expensive. Especially considering that last year I made a commitment not to buy cheap shoes — only high-quality footwear for me. Like my Keens, which actually probably still fit because I bought them a little big. But my Vibram Five Fingers are too small. UGH. UGH UGH UGH! They’re so comfy — unless they’re too small and squishing your right big toe. Even my ugly Cr*ocs are tight.

4. Beware the tiny cut

I tend to get infections when I’m pregnant. I hypothesize that my body does such a fantastic job gestating a baby, it forgets all about ME. After all, let’s not forget what this baby has been through so far: an abdominal and pelvic C/T scan with contrast dye; cold medicine — the kind that you’re specifically not supposed to take when you’re pregnant, it says on the box — for a few days; assurgery under general anesthesia followed by a month on hydro*codone (I miss you, hyco!); and the usual lunchmeat/unpasteurized milk that I consume daily. My body freakin’ LOVES being pregnant. When I was pregnant with Animal and Mineral, the high-risk Obstetrician I saw due to their Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome said that I do an awesome job at being pregnant*

*If only I did such a great job at parenting. My Masterpiece just walked into the computer room, completely naked, with a waffle in her hand, which she aimed at me and said, “A gun! A gun! Psssht! Psssht! Psssht!”

The Final Wet Wipe

I have watched nearly every season of The Bachelor/ette. I am not proud of this. So, last night, while I was watching Ali play with her urine-yellow extensions in the same way that she played with poor Chris’ heart, and My Masterpiece — who was upstairs dropping clean laundry over the landing — was shrieking because she’d taken too long of a nap, and wasn’t tired at 10:00pm — I thought about the Bachelor/ette for children.

I don’t want to fake-engagement-then-dramatic-break-up them off; I just wonder, what would life be like if moms and kids were on a reality show in which some children get sent home (to be taken care of by their dads?!?!? SNORT) and one final child gets The Final Wipe in the Most Dramatic Wet Wipe Ceremony Ever:

• Group dates would take place at a park which has a secure fence and is not in proximity to a major street. Only because I once my took my then-only-two-children-as-opposed-to-my-current-four children to a park and they both ran straight for oncoming traffic. (I have no idea why California has fence-less parks so close to major roads.) In a fit of what can only be described as genius, I tripped one, and grabbed the other. I was 9 months pregnant with The Informant. My water broke that afternoon.

• Two-on-one dates would be canceled. Really, what is less fun for a mom than trying to give her undivided attention to two children at once? And the part where she asks for alone time with one — I can only imagine what the other child would get into. On-camera, of course.
• One-on-one dates would consist of trips to the grocery store or Target, or other errand-like activities. The losing children after these dates would be sent home with leashes.

• Romantic overnight dates would be changed to nap dates.
• Moms would never choose the key for the shared “fantasy” suite. Seriously, it’s not a fantasy when you’re sharing a bed with a two-year-old who likes to sleep perpendicular to you while scratching you with her claw-like little toenails all night, My Masterpiece.

At the end, the moms would take the children for the final evaluation: by their families/babysitters/friends. Then she would talk for forty-five minutes about this (endless) journey and the (umbilical cord) connection she has to each child and make her pick.

After the Final Wet Wipe would take place in a therapist’s office, with Chris Harrison acting as mediator.

Yes, the rumor is true.

I really did rub stool softener on my nipples and then pump breastmilk for my then-34 week preemie twins. Or put them to my actual stool-softener laced breast. Either way, they drank Col*ace.

And I might even win an award for it! Please vote for me!

A change of scenery

Although I haven’t had morning sickness during this pregnancy — except once, and I think that may have been more of a virus — I still haven’t had the energy to do much, and I have been bored. The kids have been bored as well, and I am getting tired of my standard answer, which I stole from Wii: “It’s not my job to entertain you.”

I decided to take the kids to visit my online friend Heather, who has a 7yo boy, an almost 6yo boy, 4yo identical twin girls, and almost-2yo identical twin boys. And no husband — he’s deployed for the next six months.

My friend Nice-Nice — welcome Nice-Nice to the Ingredient List! She’s awesome and wonderful and just moved very close to me! — helped me cook a bunch of meals to bring to Heather’s, because I felt like bringing four kids plus a tired, pregnant me wasn’t going to be very helpful. So, like the former Jew I am, I brought food. Because food = love. (But be careful you don’t get too much love, or you may end up needing weight loss surgery like I did.)

Heather’s life really blew me away — it reminded me of how glad I am that Animal and Mineral are a little older now. They’re still twins, still mischievous, but they’re kind of over the whole let’s-use-our-joint-power-for-evil-rather-than-good. That lasts until about age three, in my experience. When I told her that, she said, “Oh, wow, that’s so soon!” Um, her youngest boys aren’t even two yet!

The kids played together really beautifully, and Heather and I bonded. (Yes, we’d never met before in real life.) She’s had c-diff bacteria, so she understood my bathroom issues better than most. That is always a concern for me when I travel. I need a toilet — and travel companions who get what I may do to it. Of course, she’s also crunchy like granola — her kids have NEVER been in disposables, all six of them — and she homeschools, homebirths, extended breastfeeds, cosleeps, and generally practices attachment parenting. She even gave Num-Nums to My Masterpiece, who was completely shocked when milk came out. I’m dry, but she still likes to suck.

I had a great time, the kids had a great time, Heather had a great time — I gave her an opportunity to get some errands done, as well as a chance to have a pedicure — and I plan to go back sometime in July, after we get back from the beach.

It’s not about the baby

Y’all, I am freaked out.

For about a month, I’ve known that I’m pregnant and due in December, and I just cannot freaking believe it. I am still in shock, and I’m still not at the point of happiness.

It’s not about the baby, himself or herself. I’m sure he or she is lovely — I’ll find out in six months or so.

I’m just freaked out about having FIVE kids. Five.

The truth is, I’m overwhelmed by four. I don’t think I’m very good at this; I yell more than I should, I don’t give any of them enough individual attention, I’m short with them, I spend too much time online, they’re growing up in SQUALLOR. This parenting gig is hard — I totally GET why people only have one or two.  (Well, as an only child, I would have preferred a sibling, but I get it from the parent’s point of view.)

Basically, I feel like with each kid I have, I have become less effective as a parent. I certainly become less “gentle” as a mother, which is what I strive for in my parenting. (Although I give myself some credit for breastfeeding my fourth child for a year; for cloth diapering #3 and #4 and this one will be in cloth; for switching to organic; for being a better nighttime parent as I’ve gone along. I’ve gotten better at some things. But I’m still not even close to hitting the target on many many things that pain me as a mother.)

Yes, this is mommy guilt talking, as well as tiredness and of course the old standby: pregnancy hormones. And I think that in real life, it sounds like its about the baby — but it’s really not. It’s about me, of course (isn’t everything?)

I visited my friend Heather this week for a few days. She blogs at It’s Twinsanity. She has two older boys, and then two sets of identical twins. Her husband is deployed. For those counting, we had, between us, a total of ten kids ages seven and under — seven kids ages five and under! Anyway, she totally LOVES her life with her crazy amount of children — and actually wants more! I felt bad because I found it very overwhelming — and I find my own life overwhelming — and I can’t bring myself to enjoy something when I’m feeling overwhelmed. Is that normal? Maybe I need to just act and not think — which is what I saw Heather doing. She just did the 3252532532 things that needed doing every single day without taking the time to think, “wow, I am really feeling overwhelmed at this moment.”

I need to do SOMETHING about these feelings I’m having — they’re causing a kind of psychological inertia about both my current life and my future life with five kids. I’m distracted. I’m filled with a lot of thoughts and feelings.