Tonight on the way home from his soccer game, Zach voiced a thought that had obviously just occurred to him:
"Mom, you are raising five kids under ten years old."
I laughed. "Yes, I am, Zach. Yes, I am!"
He replied, "Wow. That's a lot of people."
Maybe this struck me funny because Garry and I had the same conversation on the way home from church yesterday. I have also been thinking about the fact that I was nearly ten when my mom's fifth child was born. So once upon a time I was the oldest of five little kids (and eventually six), and now I'm the mom with a similar brood.
This week I'm temporarily single. Garry doesn't travel much for work, but about twice a year he is called upon to visit exotic places like San Fransisco for a few days. He was supposed to travel in February, but I landed myself in the hospital and he stayed home. Reluctant as I was to watch him leave so soon after Kate's birth, I'm in lots better shape than I was six months ago! So off he went this morning for five days of meetings and activities and international cuisine.
Today has been mostly business-as-usual, with an upside-down two-year-old, a third grader whose life is a continual state of drama and unfairness, and three other kids who are (thankfully) more even-keeled right now. At noon I ordered discounted pizza online, which I planned to pick up on the way home from soccer tonight. As expected, the school-to-soccer window of the day was the craziest, but as we waited at the last stoplight between the soccer game and the pizza place, I was feeling pretty good about what we had accomplished.
Then Lexi threw up all over the place.
Zach's comment came in the pizza parking lot as I was rolling down windows, breathing deeply, and trying to console my sobbing little girl. His comment came as my mind was racing with thoughts of how to feed the kids, clean up a giant mess, and tend to a needy baby at the same time. Five definitely felt like a lot of people tonight.
The other day I told my mom that I didn't think I could handle this week without Garry. She reminded me that my dad has nearly always traveled (a lot) for his job, and she did what I'm doing all the time -- not just twice a year. That was a good pep talk. It's nice to remember that she has done what I'm doing, and that she survived. We all did!
And as sad as I am for little Lexi, I can't help but be grateful that I'm not the one who lost my lunch all over the van. Life is good!