Changes

It is a cold, rainy morning and I am sitting upstairs in the office/Nanny suite (that is Nanny my mother, not "the nanny" as in a sitter) staring out the window at the beautiful trees with their green and brown accessories still hanging on for dear life. I actually feel calm. It is actually quiet in this house. The kids are at school and Kim is starting a new temp job at the Attorney General's office where she worked years ago in the child support division. I am alone for the first time in I don't know how long and it feels nice.

I remember a time in my life when change was devastating for me. Somehow, I came to accept change as part of life. And now I know it to be one of the only constants in life. I have been through so much change in the last few years. Our family has been through so much change. It boggles my mind how fast we regularly "dance" to keep up with the changing landscape of our life.

Not so many years ago I had a dream to start my own business. I left the safety and security of a paycheck to create my own company. I worked harder than I ever have before and still it failed. While I learned so much in the process of following a dream, I now feel lost as to what I am suppose to do when I grow up. In the process of starting a business, we added to our family in the form of sweet McKenzie. While coming to grips with the failure of the business, the greatest surprise of my life arrived when Morgan was born. She changed my priorities completely and for the first time in my life, I embraced the roll of mother head on. I was no longer obssessed with making the deal. I became consumed with the wonder of my children. I didn't really want to work at anything other than being a mom. What a change!

During this time, Kim also changed jobs and we moved into our dream home. We eventually said good bye to Noah, a.k.a Bubba, and then to Jordan, our amazing Golden Retrievers who took the greatest care of this family. Bubba was 15 and Jordan 14. They lived good, long lives. A few months later, we decided the house was too empty without a pet and rushed out to find a new one. Enter Jack, the Dog. So cute and so sweet but trouble with a captial T!

Malia came home to us for what I thought would be forever. I have said time and time again that my mother raised me to believe I could do anything I put my mind to, but I never learned the lesson that she didn't mean all at the same time. Kim and I quickly became overwhelmed with 4 children, 2 of which were in diapers. I really thought I could do it. And yet though this experience I learned to acknowledge, to actually recognize, my own personal limitations. I just couldn't do any more and neither could Kim. In an effort to reduce the level of chaos in the house, we gave Jack to a friend who lived on a farm. Seriously, she really does live on a farm. It's not just something we told the kids.

Once Jack was gone, the sickness took hold of our house in the form of H1N1, staph infection, the seasonal flu, and the stomach virus. We were sick for 4 weeks in this house. It is truly by the grace of God we survived with all children in tact. And then I lost my job. And then Kim lost her job. And Morgan was facing surgery to correct urinary tract infections that have plagued her entire life. Something needed to happen because we were going down. Something had to change. We had to be realistic. We could only handle so much.

We made the gut wrenching decision not to move forward with Malia's adoption. It isn't something I can talk about easily. She left us 1 week ago to be with her new forever family. While my heart was breaking, someone else's dreams were coming true in the gift of a baby. I think about her every day. I pray for her every night. I touch her crib every time I walk into the nursery to take care of Morgan. I pray we did more good than harm for Malia. I hope we have not emotionally scarred our other children for life.

So here I am less 1 dog and less 1 baby. Calm has returned to our home. Madison is reading to me every night, which is something I wasn't able to do with her when Malia was here. McKenzie continues to exude light and love. Her gymnastics teacher told me on Saturday she displays incredible focus for her age and is tremendously strong. I am so proud! Morgan is back to being the baby and she is happy again, rather than jealous. Her surgery went fine and the problem has been corrected. It is my hope we are infection free for a long, long time.

Kim and I are continuing to navigate the scary waters of parenthood. It is never easy for me to be a team. My dad calls it the "too many chiefs, not enough Indians" syndrome. Need I say more?

We had a great weekend together, me and Kim not me and Dad, because The Village took all 3 girls for 2 days of adventure in Lago Vista. We rested. We went to Wal Mart. I know, I know it isn't very romantic but absolutely necessary. We went to the movies. We saw "It's Complicated" with Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin. The movie gave us so much to talk about afterwards. We realized how entrenched we are in the day to day of parenting and rarely have time to look forward to those milestones of graduation, prom, marriage, and so on. Am I a bad mother because I don't have actual dreams for my children other than just making it through the day? My mother says no, I am not a bad mother. Instead she says I am a typical mother of young children where the only goal ever is to just make it through the day. I am so excited to find out who our children will be someday. Will Madison be the basketball star I think she is? Will McKenzie be a black Mary Lou Retton? And will Morgan, The Bruiser, play hockey or football? I like looking ahead to the future. I don't think I can live there comfortably, but it is a nice place to visit because there I find hope and wonder and excitement for things to come.

Kim prepared the most beautiful meal Saturday night. We didn't even eat until almost 9, which is unheard of in our house! It felt sinfully good! When she placed the plate before me at the table, I actually cried. Just a little. It was the most beautiful plate of love I had ever seen. She went to tremendous lengths to make standing beef roast, which didn't actually stand up but was delicious none the less. The entire meal was heaven and we talked about stuff that matters. Amazing.

The girls finally came home Sunday afternoon to watch the Super Bowl with us last night. Kim spread a red and white check table cloth on the living room floor and dragged the high chair in from the kitchen. Mid way through the game and the feast of Super Bowl snacks, I left the room for a moment. When I came back into the living room, I stood still to take it all in. Here is what I saw.

Sitting on the couch was Kim, other mother of my children and devoted partner to me. I don't know why she puts up with me and I don't know how I put up with her sometimes, but I do know for the last 10 1/2 years hers has been the face I see every single morning when I open my eyes to a new day. Hers is the last face I see when I go to sleep at night and the person I need the most every day. On the floor having an indoor picnic are Madison and McKenzie - sisters and best friends when they aren't screaming at each other. They have changed my entire life and I am thankful beyond measure for each one of them. Morgan is in the high chair covered in pizza and queso. She flashes her million dollar smile at me and I melt. How could one woman be so blessed? And finally, there is Misty on the other couch. Misty is the former co-worker and wonderful friend who we invited to move in with us last year. She is mouthy and opinionated and one of the moodiest people I know, but I love her with all my heart. Misty has been here through thick and thin, loving us and loving our children. She runs car pool in a pinch, rocks babies to sleep as needed, and serves as the gravy to this family. All of these treaures sitting in my living room and I felt calm.

We have survived the changes. We know there are more to come, but maybe for now we can have a little piece of peace. Maybe we can focus on our family as a whole and who we want to be in the world rather than fighting to stay in tact.