Poor Truman

Truman has been such a delight to this family.  I think the kids were just old enough to appreciate him and not too old to find him a nuisance.  He hasn't caused much of a stir because he is just so darned relaxed all the time.  So relaxed in fact, that we can all go about our business and he will wait...quietly.

I know this sounds terrible, but if Truman makes it to his 1st birthday, it will be miraculous.  I will be completely honest about what has happened to Truman since he was born in February because I know that I will look back on all of this one day and laugh.  Right now, I'm a bit nervous that we might one day lose or hurt Truman in a way that is irreversible.  I'm not kidding.  You will believe me if you continue to read.

We all know of stories of parents who have let their children roll off the bed (yes, this happened to Sawyer), or children who have inadvertently fallen down the stairs (check), kids who fell off the couch (check), and many more horrific accidents that all end in a benign fashion.  We have been lucky so far.  All of our accidents have been placed in the category of "near misses" and we have never had to visit the emergency room for any type of injury.  I'm pretty sure our luck will soon run out.

Truman has never been handled with kid gloves.  He has been handled by children of all ages since   his birth.  He has flopped around like a fish in the hands of his 5-year-old sister.  He has been man-handled and wrestled with-Eamon style.  Madeline has carried him up and down the stairs with one arm.  He has been placed in laundry baskets and suitcases, obviously for safe keeping.  I have left him to play on the floor and honestly forgotten about him while I cooked, later finding him sucking on the leg of a living room chair.  He is so quiet.  However, this is nothing in comparison to the major incident I will now share.

I am not kidding when I tell you that while on a driving vacation this summer, Jason would ask me if Truman was in the backseat; often after an hour from our previous stop.  He is that quiet.  It happened every day of the vacation, sometimes numerous times. He was always in the back seat.   And then it happened.  Several days after our vacation had ended, I took Madeline and Truman to Madeline's orthodontist appointment.  Madda had her braces taken off that day.  Sawyer and Eamon stayed with a sitter so that we would not create complete mayhem in Dr. Burns' office, therefore Madeline and I had time to chat in the car, after her appointment.  She was excited and chatty about her brace-free teeth, her neighborhood book club, and going to show her Daddy her new smile.  We pulled into his office parking lot and continued our chat about books and taking care of her teeth properly.  We continued our happy talk as we walked into and down the hall of Jason's office.  It was about one minute (and the greeting of almost every employee in Jason's office) until I realized that I had left my sleeping baby in the car.  So, just as a new employee approached me to ask if I needed any help (he had no idea who I was), I uttered, "OH MY GOD!" and ran back out the door, to the parking lot.  I grabbed my baby (still asleep) and sheepishly returned to my husband's office; through another door that would avoid contact with any employee.  I had left my baby in the car.  How could I forget my baby?  He is my dearest darling.  He is my baby boy.  Oh my goodness.  I was horrified.  And in front of people.  In front of Jason's employees who now think I'm an idiot.  OH MY GOD.

I sat down in Jason's office; Madeline near me.  I said to her, "Madda, what do you think about your Mama leaving our baby in the car?"  Her response?  "Mom, it's not like he knows."  She. Is. Awesome.  We both started laughing and I forgave myself.  Because I have to.  I just have to.  I have to chalk it up to a moment of weakness or  hypoglycemia or exhaustion or just plain stupidity.  But, I know it won't happen again and maybe I have avoided some other more disastrous outcome by learning my lesson.  As parents, we have to forgive ourselves.  We try our best.  We are imperfect.  We forget our babies sometimes.  And it's ok.  If it's only for a minute.

9

Dear Madeline,

Yesterday, you made me the proud parent of a 9-year-old.  It is hard to believe that your Daddy and I have been at the parenting game for that many years.  You were a wonderful surprise who has turned into a wonderful little person.

I am proud of you for so many reasons.  I believe you to be kind, smart, thoughtful, responsible, and beautiful...in no particular order.  No one of these adjectives defines you,  you are so many things to me and to others.  As I said, you are now a little person.  You are not just my baby; you are also a friend, a student, a team member, a piano player, a singer, a sister (x3), and a leader.  However, you were mine first.  You were my daughter first.

We do not always agree.  We are not "just alike."  We see things differently and have different interests.    I am not always thrilled by your clothing choices or hairstyles.  I see you trying out your pre-teen chops.  I know that you are not perfect; that you probably are not quite as model a citizen as you tend to be in your home.  I know that the day is coming where you will think (even more than you do now) that I have no sense and that I am unreasonable.  I know that we will clash.

I will still love you.  I will still be proud of you.  I will still look at you, in wonder of your beauty and elegance.  Amazed that you are so intelligent.  I will be beaming with pride, knowing that your beauty means nothing to you in comparison to your book collection.  I will love you when you hate me.  I will be proud of you when you do not meet my expectations.  I will always be here for you because you were my daughter first.  I waver in my thinking, wondering if I am too hard on you.  I wonder if we expect too much.  You just keep delivering more on every front.  You have made my life easier, filled it with joy, introduced me to a sense of pride I had never encountered.  You are brave and confident when I am worried and conflicted.  You skin is thicker than mine.

I am so thankful for the surprise that is you.  What a treat.

I Love You,
Mama

Sense of Humor 2.0

Since Truman was born, we haven't done much eating out.  Simply stated, staying home is easier than going out.  However, it was Jason's 37th birthday and we decided to head out to a "fancy by Lafayette standards" restaurant with our entourage.  I wore make up and WHITE pants.  The girls wore dresses, Eamon a collar.  This was us really stepping out on the town.  

Our Trumie D is a very easy going baby.  He is without question, the easiest of all of our children.  He does not expect a whole lot of attention.  He has a very even temperament.  I'm pretty surprised about his easy going demeanor.  I didn't really think a Chihuahua (me) and a Jack Russell (Jason) could create a laid back person but hence, it has happened.  Except on the day when we chose to go out to eat at a "fancy" restaurant.  All day, he had been a bit cranky and I'm sure it had something to do with the fact that the kid is dragged from one end of town to the other, so that I can drop off and pick up his siblings at every camp and activity under the sun.  

Regardless, we went.  And we went early.  At 5:30, you generally only see senior citizens at restaurants around here.  This time it was The DeWitts and the white hairs.  We were taken to our table following a mandatory bathroom break for all potty trained children, and everyone was looking in tip top form.  The kids proceeded to color their children's menus and talk about their cuisine choices.  Jason and I perused the adult menu for appropriate choices and ordered drinks for the family.  Trumie was a bit crabby but nothing that a baby toy and a pacifier in his car seat couldn't take care of.  Until he really started crying. The disapproving stares of the seniors increased.  I remained calm and tried to access my sense of humor.  Truman's daddy unbelted him from the 5 point restraint and took him into his arms cradle style, in an attempt to comfort him.  And then I saw the reason that he was crying.  

Because I refuse to do any more work than absolutely necessary, my darling infant son does not wear anything except a onesie and a diaper to leave the house.  Even when we're being fancy.  Well, the 4 days of not pooping had come to an end.  Furiously.  Truman had bright gold baby poop oozing from his diaper, onto his onesie and subsequently onto Jason's finely pressed work shirt.  My look of horror prompted Jason to pull Trumie away from his body and look down.  The looks of disapproval from all of the perfect parents around me hit an all time high as I grabbed by son, gave my husband some baby wipes and rushed to the bathroom.  Truman had had a total assplosion.  Poop up the front and back and out the sides.  As he received a sponge bath in the dark fancy bathroom, I could hear footsteps quickly approaching.  The girls, because they are "helpful" had left their poop covered Daddy and were now standing in the restroom, watching the spectacle.  I cleaned the boy up and all 4 of us headed back to our table.  The older couple to our right had clearly never had any parenting mishaps and were therefore compelled to stare at us.  To which I responded, "At least you get dinner AND a show!"  At that point, they must have remembered some tiny mistake that they had made as parents and suddenly became more understanding by saying, "Oh, we had kids, too!"  I couldn't see Eamon's face at this point because he was laying in his chair with his feet in the air while Jason continued to wipe his shirt AND pants which were both apparently mired in shit.  The happy ending is that Jason looked at me and began to laugh.  Sense of humor?  Check.  

While Jason headed to the restroom to finish cleaning the poop off his body, I informed the waiter that is was his birthday. I then added that I never would have brought 4 children to his restaurant unless it were a special occasion.  He rewarded our antics with  free dessert (delicious) for all.  All in all, it was not a horrible outing.  The fact is, if we never take our children anywhere, they will never learn proper behavior for various situations.  The pain and work of it all is worth the effort.  Hopefully, they will be confident when ordering for themselves and will be using the correct silverware when I am not there to guide them.  And hopefully they will see the humor in difficult situations as well.  

Stuff I Know To Be True

There are a few things that I have picked up over my 37 years.  None are earth-shattering or will change your life immediately.  They are simply truisms that people have said to me over the years.  Some of the comments came in the form of unsolicited advice, some in the form of a narrative from the speaker, some from books.  Here are some things I know to be true...at least for my life:

1.  Do not make predictions about the future of anything.  Life shuffles the cards on you constantly and you never know the next hand you will be dealt.
2.  A friend once told me that her mom was a good mom because, "she made being a kid fun."  I want my kids to say that about me.  Not that I was their friend, but that being a kid was fun.  It really is the only chance we get to have good, unadulterated (ha!) fun.
3.  Marrying the right person makes all the difference.
4.  There is no book or expert who knows better than you how to raise your children.  Do what is right for your family.  The author of that book does not know your kids.
5.  Teaching a child to be a good sleeper is the gift that keeps on giving.
6.  Listen.  What people really need is a good listening to.
7.  Be Here Now.
8.  A good babysitter is a gift you give yourself.  Use that birthday money to pay the babysitter so that you can leave the house.
9.  Your kids are listening.  Especially when you're on the phone.
10.  Comparing yourself to others is a waste of time.
11.  Anger is a wasted emotion.
12.  Exercise is essential.  Our bodies MUST move.
13.  Eat healthy food and you will feel better.  I promise.
14.  Don't talk negatively about others.  It is a waste of your time.
15.  The days are long, but the years are short.
16.  The older I get, the better I feel.
17.  Staying home is easier than going anywhere when you have 4 kids.
18.  Whether your kids are making a million dollars or their bed, let them know that you are proud of them.  That is your job.  Your are their most important person.
19.  Don't take yourself too seriously.
20.  Even if you stray a bit, you will come back to what you know.  What you know just makes more sense.

That is what I know.  Tell me your  principles to live by.  I need all the help I can get.

Sense Of Humor Mandatory

Almost five months into our lives as parents of four, we have been asked innumerable times, "So, how is it having four?"  My response?  "It's great, really fun."  On the inside, I''m thinking, "It's a ton of work and I'm exhausted but this is what I wanted."  Honestly though, it is fun.  And a challenge.  And exhausting.  And rewarding.  And hilarious.

Jason and I have figured out that in order to get through the chaos, a sense of humor is absolutely necessary.  Having said that, Jason isn't the member of our team who is in charge of planning for the immediate or near future.  This can lead to some moments where I would like to yell at him and act like an arrogant ass however, I know that his heart is ALWAYS in the right place and that he would never mean to screw up my delicate balance with his free-spirited ways.  Nonetheless, he does.  Because he's Jason.  And he lacks the ability to plan ahead.  That is where I come in.

I planned an orthodontic appointment for Madeline very early in the morning this past Tuesday because she is attending day camp that begins at 9:30 and is located 40 minutes from our home.  I asked Jason to take her to the appointment because he is a dentist AND because dragging four children to the orthodontist's office at 7:30 a.m. sounds like a nightmare.  The appointment was to take 45 minutes per the doctor.  Now, as a regular visitor to their office, I have learned that they are ALWAYS on time (shocking, I know) and that their appointments ALWAYS wrap up before the amount of time allotted.  For those reasons, 7:30 was perfect timing for us to make it to camp.  We would need to leave the house at 8:50 and would make it in plenty of time.  I know this because I am a planner.  Our lives are planned to the minute on most days.  Any errors in judgement are critical and can send our delicate balance off kilter.  That's where Jason comes in.

Of course, this appointment was taking longer that any appointment at this orthodontist, EVER.  So, I called Jason and let him know that I would put the other 3 children in our mini-van and meet him at the half way point in order to save time and get everyone where they needed to be.  This was an intervention that I had already constructed in case of emergency, and I was ready to head to the garage when my husband (sweet natured, not a planner) lets me know that he has taken our van.  And why not?  He had the only child in our family who is not required by law to be in a car seat.  And all the car seats were in the car he had taken.  The car that I always drive.  The car he never drives.  Because he has his own car with no car seats.  Perfect for transporting he and his nine-year-old.  So what did I do?  I did what any mother of four with a deadline would.  I successfully strapped 3 children into my husband's car illegally and left the house.  Sawyer did not use a car seat.  Eamon sat in one that was clearly meant for someone 2 years his junior.  Truman's infant carrier had some inadequate slots that were perhaps meant for a seat belt, covered up by the fabric of the carrier itself.  So, I went ahead and moved the fabric out of the way and fed a seatbelt through the slots.  And off I went.  For a 3 mile drive to meet my husband who was now speeding to meet me at the half way point.  We both pulled into the parking lot of the seedy Citgo on Purdue's campus and began transferring bags, towels, lunches and people from one car to the other.  Of course, there was no need to transfer the car seats.  Those were already in my van. Jason apologized, I let him off the hook with a promise that he would always be reminded what a saint I am, and I hopped into the car, grateful for the stress of having four awesome kids.  And a husband who does not plan ahead.

As I got ready to pull away and head to drop the girls off at day camp, I looked to my right and noticed two construction workers leaning over a barrier between the seedy Citgo and the enormous apartment construction site next door.  Both were dressed in yellow hard hats, jeans, and t-shirts, however one of them had added a bit of flare  to his outfit.  Flare in the form of 8 inches of well-tanned plumber crack.  Certainly more crack was visible than covered and I began to laugh hysterically from the humor of it all.  The stress, the kids fighting, the transfer of 1000 items for one day of DeWitt-hood, but most of all the plumber crack staring me in the face.  Jason looked over at me from his car and I silently gestured to the mother-of-all-plumber-cracks.  He bursted with laughter, and again I felt the simpatico that we have shared from the moment we met.  We both drove away and were quickly stopped at the first light out of the seedy Citgo.  I looked over to see my husband still laughing. Tears from laughter were rolling down my face and the stress was gone.  As I said, a sense of humor is mandatory when you have children.....or a husband.

Dear Time

Dear Time,

I had a baby 3 months ago.  He was a good size baby.  For a DeWitt.  Weighing in at 7 pounds, 5 ounces and 19 3/4 inches in length, he was the heavy weight of the DeWitt children.  He is now around 15 pounds (best guess).  He's huge.  And he is no longer a newborn.  Some twisted part of me wants to reverse time and put him back inside so that I can enjoy pregnancy and his being new again.  I want him to stop growing.  Time, I want you to stop.  You are moving so quickly.

Not only are you making a real baby out of Truman, you are making big kids of Madeline, Sawyer, and Eamon.  I look at my children and derive pure joy from their existence....most of the time.  Like 95% of the time.  A new record for me.  Apparently 4 children was the magic number for me.  My joy just keeps multiplying.  I want you to slow down so that I can absorb and enjoy each moment.  Every moment seems to be filled with wonder and magic.  I am truly lucky.  An older woman friend with adult daughters once said to me, "I would give everything I have just to spend one more day with my girls as 5 and 6 year olds; just to hear them ask me a million questions and listen to them argue with each other.  I would just love to hear their laughter in the backseat one more time."  This admission from her brings tears to my eyes and makes me regret every single solitary moment that I have found my children to be annoying or a chore.  They are a gift, I'm not sure where from, and deserve my respect and attention.  Please slow down, Time.  Please let me have the gift of soaking up every moment of Truman's babyhood.  Please let me revel in every moment of Madeline being an incredibly caring and responsible 8 year old.  Give me a few extra minutes to watch Sawyer dance, sing, pretend, and imagine pink sparkles and rainbows hanging around the neck of the purple pony in her dreams.  Let me have an extra hour to cook dinner and watch Eamon work meticulously at writing letters while he engages in his personal narrative, out loud for me to hear.  Time, please slow down.  There is no substitute for youth.  There is no substitute for this magical time.  Please slow down.  I promise to sleep EVEN LESS than I do.  I promise to not yell or get frustrated.  I promise to consider each day a gift that can be taken away at any moment.  Please just stretch the years out a little.  As we all see when we look back; the days are long but the years are so very short.

My Cup Runneth Over,
Katie

Braces, Birth, and Kindergarten

In the course of one week, we had braces put on one child, I gave birth to another, and registered a third for Kindergarten. Yes, Madeline now wears braces, has short hair, and looks like a little lady. Sawyer is headed to full-day Kindergarten and Truman DeWitt was born.

After 9 months of guessing, it turns out that my hunch was wrong and another baby boy was born. He is nothing short of a little doll. He does nothing but sleep, eat, and poop. I feel like he should be doing something else however, I'm grateful for the reprieve and built-in time for recovery from c-section #4.

So, I now have what I had always hoped for. 4 kids. I feel great and the kids seem to be adjusting very well to the new dynamics of our household. Jason is enamored with baby Truman and has repeatedly stated that he is thrilled by the birth of our second son. As many know, he was not the leader (or follower) of the campaign for child #4. He is now the president of the Truman fan club. I wonder if he is finally in a place where he can truly enjoy the wonders of a newborn baby. Each previous birth was somehow punctuated by a stressful event and I am so happy that Jason is seeing the pure joy of new life. I was able to truly enjoy when Eamon was born and I can only echo Jason's words upon the birth of Truman, "It was magical." At nearly 37, I can't believe how relaxed we both feel having this baby in our house. I was nearly in tears for the last week of this pregnancy, fearful that I had upset the delicate balance that we had finally struck with the 3 children we already had. I was concerned that our marriage would suffer, that our kids would be a mess, and that I would simply not be up to the challenge. In an interesting unfolding of events, Jason has risen to the occasion in a way that was beyond any expectation that I could have had, the kids LOVE Truman, and I feel very Zen about the whole thing.

Truman is now 12 days old and I know that we will never have another baby. I am too old and I would not do that to my body ever again. Closing the chapter on this part of my life will be a challenge. However, knowing that our family is complete will help me finalize that phase. It is no longer time to reproduce. It is time to grow.