Survival Mode

Our fourth little was born 6 weeks and 4 days ago. That was a month before he was supposed to arrive, and we were. not. ready. I had half a bag packed and one load of 3-month clothes washed. We didn't even own newborn clothes for our premie and the clothes we do have have no drawers to call home.

They're still sitting in piles on the living room floor.

The kids just build their train track around them.

His older brother will be 2 in less than a month. He just had surgery for a hernia. He talks constantly and constantly wants someone to listen and is constantly having to learn to share us with our new baby. I miss him.

Our second-born, first-born-boy got sick within days of bringing our baby home. He had four different things wrong with him, including strep throat and scarlet fever. We've been to the doctor's office at least 8 times since then. I told our doctor we should probably just rent a room. This boy does not like being sick. At all. We've had to assign the baby to me at night and the other three to my husband. Last night was the first night he got to sleep through the night.

Our oldest is now in first grade with more homework than we can figure out what to do with. We overheard her tell the baby the other day, in her sweet sing-song baby voice, "Yeah, it's a good thing you're cute. I don't get to spend much time with my mom and dad right now, so it's a good thing you're cute." She adores him. But between homework and other homework and violin practice and church and after-school activities, and all the emotional exploration that seems to characterize so many of our conversations and interactions these days, I can barely find that baby girl who first stole my heart when she made me a mama.

So I'm nursing every two hours or less during the day, and a couple more times at night. It was 2:45 today before I finally got to eat my own lunch. The house was dirty before the baby was born (remember that whole not being ready thing?), but now it's a biohazard. Seriously. The one who's been potty trained for two years now can't keep his undies dry and the toddler has discovered temper tantrums. It's all we can do to get our girl to school on time and dinner on the table once we get her home again. We have entered a new level of chaos.

We call it survival mode.

Friends ask us, "How are you guys doing?" We say, "We're surviving." Another mom asked me today, "So how is it having four? Is it a big change from three?" I told her I honestly didn't know yet. That we're still just surviving and all I know is that we're exhausted.

But I'm tired of just surviving.

Shouldn't there be more?

Now, I know the exhaustion will last a while longer yet. Maybe forever. But isn't there another way to do life beyond just surviving? Beyond just making it from one parental obligation to the next?

A speaker came and spoke to a group of us tired mamas today. She talked about Romans 8, the part that says if we live by the Spirit, if we set our minds on the things of the Spirit, there is life and peace. Is that a glimmer of hope I feel? Life and peace. Didn't Jesus also himself promise abundant life?

She said there could even be laughter.

I actually laughed the other day. It was the day after I barely got out of bed all day. But my children! They were like moths to a flame. I laughed and I smiled and I even made a few jokes. And they could not stay away.

Jesus, that is the land that I claim. Like Joshua and Caleb claimed the Promised Land before they possessed a single footprint of it, I claim a life of life and peace - a life of laughter. I believe in faith that my children will remember me, not as the mom who couldn't get out of bed or the mom who was overly critical, but as the mom who laughed. Jesus, teach me to laugh.

I will do more than just survive.

Oh, I will still be exhausted I'm sure. For a long, long time. But I will dance between the piles of laundry. I will sing as I hustle kids out the door every morning. I will rock my babies before nap time as long as they will let me, no matter what chores await. I will pray victories over them as they cry and sleep and fight. I will cherish every tedious second of homework with my girl because I'm with her. I will play and I will celebrate and I will choose grace. I will pray with my husband each night and count the blessings of this beautiful chaos.

And I will laugh.