I am a working mother with three boys. All boys. All active, inquisitive, loud, mischievous, but loving boys. William is six years old, Joseph is four years old, and Charles is seven weeks old. Before my third pregnancy, I was used to being on the go all the time. This pregnancy forced me to slow down due to several factors: sheer exhaustion, anemia, and gestational diabetes. And the past seven weeks of maternity leave have astonished me in that I have done so little. It is the first time I have been concerned primarily with the care of my baby and not had to return to work in an absurdly short period of time.
I have worn pajamas for full days, consecutive days, multiple days leading into weeks. I have skipped many showers and seen my hair enter the stringy, greasy state and it has not bothered me in the least. I have watched hours of bottom of the barrel, mindless television, mostly of the reality genre. I willingly watched Jersey Shore (J-Woww is hot and Pauly D. is extremely funny), Toddlers and Tiaras (is it legal to spray tan the skin and highlight the hair of a two year old?) and Hoarders (I cannot say anything disparaging about this show, because my home is approaching the disheveled, cluttered state of the houses featured on this program.) I have opted to do grocery shopping at the corner store and 7-11, instead of going to my favorite store Whole Foods to purchase all the necessary ingredients for the meal I plan to cook that night.
In my defense, I have a newborn at home, it has been a rough winter (three major snow storms which led to a parking crises in South Philly) and I have two other demanding little boys to take care of. All of these factors have led to one of the most unproductive periods of my adult life, but oddly I have never been so content. I have held my baby in my arms for hours, slept when he is sleeping, breast fed successfully for the first time, and really feel like I understand what his needs are based on his behavior.
When I try to recount the details of William or Joseph's first weeks, I find that the memories are blurry and inaccurate or that I just plain do not remember. I feel this is because I did not live in the moment with my first two boys - not because I did not want to, but because I had too much to do. I always thought about what I should be doing to keep up with the other aspects of my life. This is unfortunate, but true. And while I still have a lot to do and very soon will have more to do (I return to work in five weeks), I realize it doesn't matter if the floor is strewn with Lego landmines, that we eat hot dogs for dinner twice in one week, that I have been wearing the same bra for three days, that I wore out a razor after one use shaving my legs, that the bag of the boys' summer clothes that never made it to the basement might as well stay upstairs in their room because it is 60 degrees today so that means spring is coming.
These things don't matter. I won't remember them. I will remember Charlie's first smiles at five weeks old with my mom and William sitting in my bed next to me and sunshine streaming though the window, that Joseph said William was his bestest friend and wants me to pick him up early from school so he doesn't have to do math and they can play, that William taught himself how to whistle this week and his teacher sent home a note saying he has been whistling non-stop in school for two days. These are the things I want to remember...
This blog is going to be my means of recording the funny, touching, frustrating events that happen in my family. Writing about these things will help me appreciate what I have and pay closer attention to what is around me.
The name of the blog comes from one of Joseph's patented, original expressions. When he does not like something or finds something frustrating or unacceptable, he says, "That is so darn it!" When he is angry at William, he says, "You are the darnitest brother in the whole city!"
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