Casualties of Failing to Compromise

It is a tough lesson. One that might be harder for some mothers, at least for me. I am so used to be able to do everything and do it right (for the most part). But, tonight Gianni reminded me why I need to step back and do just a little less. While I was going above and beyond for dinner tonight Gianni took a dive into the piano. When I heard the crunch, I knew that it couldn't be good and I immediately went into the living room with my dirty hands to investigate. Things didn't improve from there when I saw Gianni with his hands in front of his mouth dripping blood. As always, the phone was ringing and Dan wasn't home.

To make a long story short (too late, and if you get that one thank Tim Curry and a great movie called Clue) Gianni has damaged at least three of his teeth and completely out them through his upper lip. We contacted the dentist tonight, who told us that there wasn't much to be done to repair them and to call the office if there are more problems tomorrow. I will be calling in the morning to have them looked at, as two of the teeth aren't lined up properly any longer and I don't want to have any more damage done to my beautiful son's mouth.

Ugh. This is where I need to start letting go. I remember that I felt this way when Vinny broke his leg when Gianni was young. If I try to do too much, it isn't just me that will suffer. My children suffer too when I am this distracted. I have spent the last week feeling ditzy. I can't keep my head on straight. I seem to need to write everything down before I say it. Multi-tasking isn't working for me at all these days. Perhaps this is my reminder, the damage to my poor son's mouth, that I need to stop and smell the dandelions (a book on my mother's shelf all my life, but that is for another post). I need to slow down. I need to take a breath and I need to do less. I just wish I could learn this without my children being injured in the process.

Life is Chaotic...& Beautiful

I don't even know if anyone else is reading this, but for my own heart's desire and the ability to remember what the early days of three looks like. Here goes.

As my last child, time with him as an infant is going way to fast. I am floored that he is already eight weeks old. In this short time he looks entirely different, he is more full, the cute little baby folds have taken over his once lean (and dare I say chicken legish body). He truly didn't have nearly enough fat on him when he was born, the leanest of my children and I am grateful to see him add on this weight and ensure that he is healthy and that he is eating sufficiently.

Everything seems to come bittersweet these days. Frankie won't be put down but twice a day for naps. Sweet, I love to hold him and it forces me to take the time to notice the moment. Bitter as I can't get anything done and I sit still and watch the house, my life, anything for myself spin further from my grasp. It is getting better but again with that sweet and bitter note of watching Frankie mature and grow.

And Gianni, I fear that he is getting lost in the center. He doesn't have the strong go get 'em nature that Vinny has, the notice me NOW personality. Sometimes (and late at night quite literally) I think that he is being squished and absorbed into invisibility. And when it hits critical mass, then the screaming of "Mommy, Hold ME!" occurs and he screams (oh so loudly) his need to be held. And unfortunately, frequently while I can't hold him, when I am in the midst of an unstoppable event or feeding Frankie. But the sweet moments when he curls in my lap and once again he is my little baby. He is growing so fast and will I be able to notice it? I don't want him to be lost, or worse yet to feel inconsequential. Oh, the balancing act just got so much harder.

And while we're going through my children, Vinny. He is growing and spinning away from me so fast. It is sweet to watch him play with his Dad and waiting for his Dad to come home. And those sweet moments when he is telling me a story (one of his favorite things to do). I love his way of getting his needs met, while it sometimes overrides his siblings (oh, I need to pay attention to that).

And me, I feel like my brain is leaking all of its beautiful talent of balancing the world. I don't know how working mothers do it. I can't keep it straight. And I fear that I won't be able to teach again. I so loved teaching but I waited so long for these boys, I don't want to miss a second.

So to Ecclesiastes, to each thing there is a season. And this is mine, short and bittersweet. I look forward and dread the day that I can work out this balancing act of mine. I only hope that I find it with some grace. And not too soon. I rather like this feeling of all my beautiful boys around me. Even if a little of me is lost in the rush. I fear that I will find it too soon when they wander off to school and points beyond.