WWF (and a bit more...)

So Seamus started back to music class this morning and it was a fun reunion for all of us. It was a little strange to see how much he and Finn have changed in the last few months. Seamus ran in, took off his coat and shoes, lined them up by the door and gave the teacher a hug. Not a beat missed. Finn, who used to hang on my lap and have a bottle during class, now brought a bag of dinosaurs to play with (you should hear his ROAR...). He's talking a bit now and seems so much bigger - they both do. It gives me this odd sense, this feeling that we're in a story and can't see the pages turning around us, but surely and steadily we close chapters and begin new ones. So when the new baby is born Finn will be almost exactly the same age as Seamus was when he was born, and very recently I was thinking that Seamus seemed older, bigger at almost 2 years old. But what I'm realizing now is that these few months are a windfall of change 17-21 months is a big jump. It's strange to me to realize that the highchair, bottle and (almost) the crib are pretty much out of Finn's world now....

I started this entry with the title "WWF"and here's why...

So the boys other new favorite thing is to play "puppet show" in the crib upstairs. Seamus hangs a blanket over the side of the crib and the boys use it as a stage. This is a WONDERFUL activity as I can sit in the rocker and read while offering bits of puppet commentary..."Can the leopard roar, Finn? Is the penguin singing, Seamus..." And so on. But today, puppet mania turned into full-scale WWF style mania. For a VERY long time the boys wrestled and rolled around the crib laughing so hard I thought they both might burst. At first I just thought thy were playing with the puppets behind the blanket and then the blanket slipped off and I could see Finn sitting on Seamus and bouncing. Seamus (for the most part) was a good keeper of playing without killing, let's just hope that Finn understands how to be gentle with a new baby, fingers are definitely crossed on that one.

I go back to the doctor tomorrow - we're officially starting the third trimester this week. Very strange this pregnancy has gone so fast. So a little less than three months and we'll be a family of 5. At preschool the other day someone said, "wow, three kids in three years, you're busy." At first I started to say," well the kids are all about two years apart" and then I realized that it was pointless to try and explain and all I could say was "Ya think?" Busy isn't quite the right word. When I listen to my siblings talk about running kids all over the globe for games and practices, or to working friends or to families who have kids with disabilities and their doctors and therapy appointments, I think that sounds busy.

Having small, healthy children and being at home full time can be kind of quiet, sometimes kind of lonely, sometimes even peaceful. I don't feel busy as much as I feel challenged, like everything it's not 100% of anything, sometimes its crazy (like yesterday when the basement filled with water) sometimes its wonderful (like watching the boys enjoy each other so much) sometimes it boring (like reading one of their favorite books for the 30th time that day). It's not about being busy as much as it is about struggling for balance. Helping everyone get enough sleep, do enough good, say yes enough as well as no enough, having enough fun while still leaving room for learning to live with the quiet.

The challenge isn't being busy - sometimes the hardest parts are about being home all day long are figuring out how to show your children how to be comfortable with playing with nothing more than their imaginations, to remember that teaching your kids to read is also about finding the time and energy to let them see YOU reading quietly. That raising children to be good siblings means being a good sibling myself. That being busy is nothing compared to the weight of trying to raise compassionate, loving and faith filled human beings. Now THAT feels overwhelming.

But I do think a lot (I bet you can't tell). And what seems to be coming up a lot in my thoughts and my plans is that I want to live a very deliberate life - to be a very deliberate parent. In that I don't expect to be perfect (or anywhere close), but I expect to make my own choices and live with them opposed to just letting life happen. When you have these days when you wonder where all the time has gone, I want to think that I intentionally put it to good use. I'm 31 years old and I swear it was last Spring when Sarah and I were 9 years old and exploring the Wachtler farm fields hoping that there would be water in the stream. I remember how it felt to "play house" and yet now I'm a parent with children who are discovering the joy of their own pretend play. Sometimes it all too strange. Maybe it would be less strange if I wasn't surrounded by so many of the same people of my own childhood - but somehow I don't think it would be as meaningful to me now.

A deliberate life is something I think that my mother did a pretty good job of - every parent does things they don't want to - it's part of being a good parent (reading the boring story for the 30th time everyday). But I think my mom did a good job of doing what you have to and at the same time doing what you want to. I think she enjoyed raising her kids- even the l last one- at 42 . and I think that she worked hard a making clear choices about what she wanted for herself and also for her family. Ultimately, I think for many women you can't be happy if you're unhappy about your family choices. And now I've got a visitor. Seamus is up from his nap and I'm sure Finn isn't far behind. So much for my rambling - I think I've got dinosaur stories in my very near future. I'm going to take some photos once Finn is up too. More later.