As you know i weaned parker a few months ago. It was hard blah, blah, blah.
The hardest part? The changes in my body.
We all also know that shane was pretty eager to have me milk-free. As it turns out i am not so eager.
First of all i have gone from a generous 38D to a wimpy 36B. Pretty much overnight. Also? I gained five pounds. I've pretty much lost it again, but it hasn't really helped my confidence when naked. I noticed the other night that when i lie down my boobs (whats left of them) disappear into my chest.
It just isn't fair. After all my pain, suffering and sacrifice birthing and nursing four kids i am left with a flabby tummy, silver stretch marks across my belly, three distinct cesarian scars, half-filled water balloon boobs and skin tags.
This should be my time to celebrate my body and all it has done. The re-birth of my sexuality.
Instead i have a body that is a road map of the devastation of kids. It's a good thing i love them. It's a good thing that when the lights are out i still feel the same and my husband doesn't really give a damn about all of that.
Today was report card day. As i expected, in a locked away corner of my heart, toby didn't meet the requirements for grade one.
In a fit of motherhood hysteria (which i promised myself i would never do) i raced off to the school to talk to the principals. The minute i started talking i burst into tears. I just couldn't help it.
Luckily for me they are the nicest, gentlest souls around and they eased me through a lovely and difficult conversation. They reassured me that everything would be okay. That toby is doing well and has come a long way. That because our school uses multi-age groupings toby would remain with his peer group and be given every opportunity to catch up and would never be singled out. Probably, he won't even notice.
It was so hard though. Being vulnerable that way. Letting them know how much it hurts me that it is hard for him. That he is having trouble. That the road ahead of us will be difficult and long. That their kind words really didn't make the sting go away.
Man, i'm tired. Or as toby says "dude, i'm pooped!" Then parker chimes in with "poopy dude! i pooped on you!"
What's with the poop talk happening already? His cute little sing-songs have all turned into poop songs.
Mary had a little poop (apparently)
It was big and smelly bum
Seriously though. I have never been busier. I have made two speeches in front of large groups of people in the past week and i have one more on friday. My irritable bowel has cranked it up a notch.
I have also had, at least, six people tell me i look really tired. Which is actually code for you look like crap.
And here i am trying to catch up on my feedreader and leave some lame comments so as not to appear a total snob. I made it to "S" before i realized it's late again. I have no wine to lull me to sleep and i'm all jumpy and nervous about my impending public speaking.
Monday is the first day of summer vacation. I will not pack lunches. I will not yell at tristan to hurry. I will not turn the television on. I will not spend an hour at the school talking to parents about their concerns.
I will let my kids be bored. I will enjoy my morning coffee. I will visit many blogs. I will photograph my new shoes.
Tonight i got a message on my computer that my hard disk was full. When i asked shane he said that it was my photos. When i looked at my iPhoto i had 2843 pictures. So much life.
I spent a couple of hours going through it all. They date back to 1999. Sporadic. But they are there. Pictures of toby as a baby, then eliza and then lots of parker. I switched to all digital around the time parker was born in 2003.
But, my god, the life i have lived in the past nine years. It hurts me to think of how fast it is passing.
When tristan was born i cherished every single moment. Every milky smile. Every newborn stretch. Every ounce gained and inch grown.
And then toby was born, all colicky and complicated. A whirlwind. A whirlwind of babies and pregnancies and births and milestones.
Really. I am humbled by this life as i look at it in photos. I am struck by the beauty of it. I am in awe of all that i have to lose.
Thanks for letting me share it. Really.
Somehow, i have made it through. My kids are now 2,5,7 and 9.
2,4,6 and 8 was much more fun to say.
I kind of feel like we faked our way through toby's party as i am completely exhausted and keeping up the exuberance for a whole month of birthdays is exhausting.
But because toby is toby his party was the funnest of all. We had a boot camp party for him. All the kids dressed up in camo and we ran them through an obstacle course, some laps of the house and a couple games of capture the flag. Shane and i got to wear whistles and yell at them.
What could be better?
Toby occupies a large space in my heart and my worries. He's such an amazing little guy. Friends to everyone. He wanted to invite every boy in the school to his party and i'm sure they all would have gladly come. I had to limit him to the boys from three classes. His teacher often tells me she adores him and that she goes home every evening and her husband asks her what her "toby story of the day" is.
He has this disability which in the grand scheme of things is very minor. He is healthy, he is happy. It's just that speech is such a fundamental thing. It's how we communicate. I almost wish he couldn't talk at all because then we could say "he doesn't talk" when people question us. Instead people look at him like he's something "less." Kids tease him. He is often frustrated by people not understanding, or worse, pretending that they do by nodding their head "yes."
I just worry. I want the world to know him like i do. I want the world to experience all the little things that make toby, toby. I just love him.