My parents left my house this morning. With the two bros in tow. Knowing they would be visiting for a bit this weekend, I made hair appointments so the eldest would be freshly shorn for his Christmas program tomorrow. I also asked that they do a little shoe shopping with Barrett. So out the door they went this morn, honey-do list and cash in hand, to get haircuts, to acquire shoes, and if the boys were good, maybe get a small treat {which is a given with grandparents. The treat, that is}.
The husby surely could and would and does do. All the time. All the stuff. We are a pretty united front. But I am sort of the keeper of the crap. The logistics manager, if you will. And being just one week in to this whole bed rest biz, I am taking all the help we can get. If all goes well and this continues, we can’t very well have our first string sitting the bench a few weeks down the road. Because in our past experience, there’s a good four month stint post birth of the babe {at least} in which our life turns into a complete and utter shitshow {no lies here. no lies}. And if our first string is down for the count from the get-go… that will be no bueno.
Adam’s parents stepped in immediately on Monday while we had our luxury vacay stay. And then kept the boys through Wednesday, managing pre-school drop-offs and pick-ups. And Miss Livi has covered extra days as well. And my folks pitched in this weekend. And between the calls, texts, emails and facebook messages, I’ve been overwhelmed by the good of people. And you know the kookiest part… Is the amount of people who offer who have real stuff to deal with… Cancer, death of a parent, their own infants, their own families. That have waaaaay bigger fish to fry than measily mama on bed rest. It’s proof that people are good at the core.
Friends and family have offered food. And I am saying yes. Other friends have offered to play with the boys. And we’re saying yes. It doesn’t mean all playdates are set-up and all food has a drop-off date:) but I am keeping a running list of people to call in our favors. Partially because I am a lazy lump and partially because there are only so many games you can play with two very energetic little boys on the same space, all day. We had someone come clean our house. From top to bottom. Something that would generally make me feel extremely guilty {and for the record, not because there is anything wrong or indecent about having your house cleaned … having your house cleaned is a little piece of heaven… only because it’s not something that would make our current budget for most months}. I had Adam pick me up a candle, to make my room a peaceful place. I asked my mom to buy me razors. And to clean out my refrigerator {something that, in my wildest dreams, I never would have thought I’d allow someone else to do in my own house}. I mean, seriously folks… a place of YES. And you know what I’m finding? Yes is just easier.
Let me explain. Because I know what you’re thinking. Because actually YES isn’t easier. At least not to say. It’s harder to say. I think it’s actually really hard, at first. Because it goes against what we know.
When I had Barrett, everyone offered to help. And you know what I did? I didn’t take the help. I said no. A lot. I said no to people offering me a reprieve because I felt like I needed to have it all handled. I think I felt that I needed to prove I could have it all handled. Because I think I thought that’s what it meant to be a mother. And while in the end, we got through it, I think now that it could have been better. Maybe it would have been the same. But maybe not, if I had said yes. If I had taken help. For those people who said they’d provide me a nap, or a dairy-free lunch or just someone to walk a screaming infant.
And then, after having Jonah, I realized how much I wanted to try to be a good mom to Barrett while really needing to spend every moment bonding and nurturing our second little sub 5-pounder. And I again, didn’t always take the offers from people to help with Barrett. Because I felt like I was being an absentee mother to him if I doted on his little brother. When in reality, the TV spent more quality time with him in those first few months than I did during the daytime. And obviously, he survived, we all survived… but it may have been less of a shitshow, if I’d said yes. And I’ve no doubt that adding a third will further compound that reality, at least for the onset. And being able to see that right now, with a clear mind, gives it a different sheen. So for now, I’m saying yes.
Sometimes I think we moms, we humans, feel like we are weak if we ask for help. If we show vulnerability. Or especially if we accept people’s good nature. And I also think sometimes we say no because the offer of help isn’t exactly what works best for us. Or it’s out of the norm. But I think that if instead, we quit playing the martyr, and embrace the reality that people want to help other people, at times, by saying yes we can actually feel stronger. I’m not saying wave the white flag every day. Or to stop putting your big girl panties on and dealing with what needs dealing. I am saying, every once in awhile, when niceness comes your way, I think it’s more than okay to say, YEP.
There have been and will be plenty of times where I can say, mama got this handled. But right now, admittedly, cannot be one of those times. I mean, we’ve got two kids and though they could live on a fruit snack and cereal diet for the next month, I’d just rather they not. And though we could completely rearrange their world and they’d bounce back, we’d rather not. And though the hubs could handle anything the world throws his way, I don’t want him to feel like he always has to. Because we are so very fortunate to be surrounded by people who totally rock our socks. And who are willing to help with some of the little and some of the very big things. And so we can come from a place of yes.
We are in a good place today. Very good. And tomorrow’s outlook, well, it’s promising. But a few weeks from now, it could be complete chaos. And if that’s the case… someone may have to talk me off the ledge {just a figure of speech people, go with it}… someone may have to tell me I’m a complete lunatic … and it’s highly likely someone’s gonna have to remind me … just. say. YES.
