The New Normal

The new normal. I still haven't quite figured out what that is yet. Adding a fourth little person has been a joyride, but not without adjustments. In fact, this is the first week since Jax arrived where we're finally beginning to transition into our routine.

No out of state company - Grandma and Grandpa and Nana are long gone. 

No doctor appointments - no more billirubin heel pricks , no more post-surgery follow-up, and no well-visits. 

No visits with friends bringing meals - I'm still coming to grips with the fact that I actually have to begin cooking for my family again. 

No paternity days with Grady - two weeks just aren't enough. 

No holidays - Christmas and New Year's and MLK... why not Valentines, too I wonder? 

No snow days - two days to do a little work but mostly just play in the white stuff we rarely see. 

It's February now and this week it's just the kids and I rockin' and rollin' as we continue with school, interact with friends, and begin some new extracurricular activities. Without help from Dad or doting grandparents. Sorry kids - this means you will do chores and you will have quiet time and you will not whine. Because I will cry otherwise.

How am I feeling? Other than bags-under-my-eyes tired, I'm doing great. Jax is the sweetest little guy but doesn't care for sleep between the hours of 3-5:00 a.m. I'm not down with that. At all. And there's also the occasional time I feel a tad too stretched. I'm still working to perfect my make-dinner-while-nursing-a-baby position. Harder than it seems when a three year old is on my heels trying to write her ABC's and two wrestling boys in the next room need authoritative intervention. 

How are the older kids doing? Other than bickering over whose turn it is to hold Jax, they're doing great. They are all eager to love their new brother and to help care for him. I'm good with that. Most of the time. I mean, Jax does need personal space, too, because there is such a thing as too many kisses and too many high-pitched voices an inch from his face. "All in the name of sibling love," I hear myself mumble time and time again.

I guess the new normal, as of this week, means lots of breathe-in breathe-out moments with a few count-to-10-before-I-speak moments interspersed. A tired mom often means a cranky mom and that's not the kind of mom I want to be.

So, with a few extra loads of laundry due to one teeny, tiny person; and school work happening on the couch more often than not because a teeny, tiny person is nursing; and normal conversation happening at a slightly louder tone because a teeny, tiny person may be wailing; with these little things thrown in, and then some, we're finding our new normal. I think.