time goes by...

To get to the computer in the kitchen, I wade through the laundry. Burp cloths, soft baby blankets in blue and pink and Thomas the Train tshirts stained with lunch and muddy socks. I make my way to the computer, take a deep breath and have a minute to myself. I hitup Youtube for a few favorite songs and am able to have a few minutes of "ME" time. The beebs are all sleeping. Baby A and Baby B are in their room with the fan on low wearing fleece zippy jams. Sethie is lying horizontally in our bed with our favorite down comforter and Jay is tinkering in the garage with a friend on his car. Dishes are in the sink. The laundry needs to be rotated. There's a stinky stain in the downstairs toilet that has been bothering me for 2 days.
Time is going by quickly. The days are filled with whining, spit up, bottle-washing, and grilled cheese sammies. Katie's hair is whispy, falls into her eyes when I change her shirts. Isaac drools more than any other child we have. When you put him in the bouncer, he goes to town and drips and drips like he has a hole in his chin. He grins and grins, yells and hums. Katie starts up and it sounds like a squealing chorus of piglets. Sethie and Parker race their cars on the hardwoods in front of the bouncers. To the kitchen and back to the kitchen and back. The sirens and engine sounds echo and get mixed like smoke into the air with squeals and jumps. It's loud. I ask the boys to settle down. No running. Someone is going to get their finger run over. The thought crosses my mind to get the crayons. I'm packing the diaper bag with clean bottles and formula for the road.
Now it's quiet and I'm tired. I'm sitting here listening to sweet country songs like Miranda Lambert's "house that built me" and James Taylor's "Sweet Baby James." I think about how tomorrow maybe I'll have a little more patience. Maybe tomorrow I'll get down on the floor and race cars. Maybe tomorrow I'll peel the wrapper off of a crayon. Just last week, before going to work Sethie and I went for a walk to the mailbox..just the two of us. I found some crunchy leaves for him to jump on and talked with him about the leaves and autumn. I told him that it was my favorite time of the the year. I told him that I loved him. I squeezed him. He ran as fast as he could back to the house from the mailbox. I looked up to the sky and thanked my god for this place in my life. I thanked him for fixing the broken place in my heart from long ago. I thanked him for the crisp air. In fact, I don't find myself asking god for much. I find myself saying thank you an awful lot. Little baby acorns, the pretty little pink things we have for my Katie. I thank him for the way Isaac Reid squeezes and pinches the fat behind my arm when I hold him. I thank him for the way Isaac sucks his thumb the way I did as a baby. None of the others have. I find myself thanking god that Katie has 3 brothers to watch out for her and help make her strong.
You just don't think when your child is small that in a few years, you are going to look back and ask where the time went. The truth is, it goes by fast. I wish that I could carve out more time to write it down. To somehow preserve it. So, later I can pick it up and cherish it all over again. It's fall in NC. Jay just came in from the garage and I asked for a quick snuggle hug before he went back outside. He put his arms around me and I buried my forehead right in the nape of his neck and inhaled him. He is cold and warm at the same time. He smells like oil and man-deoderant. I inhale more. I am filled up. My cup is filled up. He doesn't notice the laundry. He moves the dishes from one side of the sink to the other to wash his hands. He pays no mind to them. I see his boxers peeking out of those old jeans he has on and I thank god for them too. They've been through a few years of sleepless nights, survived spitup and blowout diapers. They've been washed with cheap detergent and folded with quick hands. He has worn them when we have danced in the kitchen and he has worn them when he is too tired to take them off before crashing in the bed.
The truth is, we don't have any of this figured out really. The laundry lives from clean basket to dirty. The dishwasher runs daily.
I can't wait to breathe him in before I go to sleep. To snuggle right up to him...and fall asleep with the rise and fall of his chest. With every breath in and out I will fall asleep thinking thank you-out. Thank you- in. Thank you-out. My heart is held together with names. Jay. Seth. Katie. Isaac. Parker. The family that I always wanted. Thank you.