The real story of a Christmas card

Don't let those faces fool you, friends.  This was like take 28....can you spot the toddler trick we use?  Those m&m's there in front of Violet, yeah, we went there.  Luckily, Brandon was home on photo shoot night and he was in charge of supplying the candy and also making ridiculous faces and cheering directly behind my head to get the kids to look at the camera.  

Everything quickly started going downhill and B looked at me and said, "Why isn't this fun?" to which I turned my head towards him incredulously and replied, 'with that little gremlin? Honey, this is just something we need to get through.'

And so after plenty of enthusiastic effort from Brandon and near constant pressure on my shutter release, and Greyson and Gemma trying desperately to coax their baby sister by pleading 'just one good one, Violet!' we finally had something usable for the Christmas card.

Our happiest wishes to you all this season.
xxoxoxox

Santa, all I want for Christmas is patience

Dear Santa,

When I originally sat down to write this letter to you, I was frustrated and tired.  I was ready to pen my exasperated letter to you asking...begging for time.
Santa, what Mum of little kids can't use that, right?
What Mum at all can't use more time in the day?
Actually, what grown up can't use that?
More time, especially during this season of hustle and bustle and gifts to buy and traditions to uphold and places to visit and baking and wrapping and elf moving.

So as I sat down, grumbling about how slow my laptop was booting up, my daughter walked into the living room and spilled an entire bowl of cereal.  Let me be more clear, not so much spilled, as accidentally hurled the bowl into the air so that a rainbow of cereal and milk showered three quarters of the living room.  Santa, I swear our natural motto around here is Go Big or Go Home in all things we purposefully or accidentally do.

I saw this happening, as I was in mid-sentence of saying, 'I don't think eating that in here is a good idea,' so my internal flinch reaction was frustration with the fact that the very last thing I needed to add to my to do list, among the laundry list of holiday tasks, regular chores, and child rearing needs, was to add 'mop the living room floor'.

Before I even had a chance to react as she and I made eye contact after the splash, her face crumpled up and said, "Mumma, forgive me! Please forgive me!"

I took a deep breath, and in a calm voice that surprised even me, I had her fetch some towels and we cleaned it up together.  It was only quarter of ten in the morning, Santa, so that certainly had something to do with it (let's face it, my patience bucket is profoundly lower come 5p everyday), but it was at that moment that I realized that my Christmas list needed fixed.

Not because she was immediately heartbroken that I was going to be mad, nor because I am some magical beacon of calm in the face of annoyance.  But because it actually wasn't all that bad or time consuming to just clean it up when I wasn't also using up energy on being annoyed.

Santa, deep down, I understand that the time that I have each day, is just what it is.  There is no getting more because time is just time.  We all, all of us, get the same amount every single day and then it is filled up with life until we fall asleep and try again.

So, Santa, I'd like to change my wish.  What I actually would like for Christmas, Santa, is patience.

Patience to tackle the spilled cereal bowl that flies across the room at 9:45 in the morning (and probably again at 7:30 at night) because someday I won't have kids in my house at all to eat at 9:45 in the morning and 7:30 at night because there will be school and sports and friends and everything that is incredibly more cool than eating cereal in the living room to be near Mum.

Patience to see that an hour spent reading Christmas picture books to my kids is just as valuable as an hour spent folding the laundry that has been sitting in the laundry baskets for three days because someday the kids will be able to both read by themselves and do their own laundry and after all, what's an hour of life?  It is, in fact, both everything and nothing and that's why it is so valuable as to what fills it up.

Patience for the dust and dog hair making tumbleweeds in the corners of every room and the toys and crayon drawings that are never.where.they.are.supposed.to.be because someday my house will be clean and tidy, but in this season of our life it is full of life in all ways possible and that also means full of mess.

Patience for the sounds; so much noise and so loud.  Patience for the humming, and made up words and stories, and the tireless questioning and negotiating, and the incessant 'Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum' that makes up the melody of my day because someday it will be quiet and somehow that will be even louder than all this noise.

Patience for this body of mine that doesn't look exactly like I want it to, nor fit into clothes like it used to because I could use a daily reminder that despite it not being perfect, it sure does work like I need it to, and for that I should be grateful.

Patience for this house of ours that needs repairs, and updates, and has far too much stuff in it because it is the home our children will remember as theirs when they are far away living their own lives and where we work together side by side to make small changes within a budget that we plan together, and where we are safe and comfortable and warm every single day.

Patience for so many things, simply because I live in a country that values freedom of speech and thought and the privilege of #firstworldproblems at all.

Patience for all the things that don't move as quickly as I think I need to move; this laptop, the traffic, the kids, my husband, our pets, the boiling pot of water for dinner, the coffee maker....me and this Studerbaby4 bump, because I must learn to recognize that life is not a checklist.
Look up, Tabitha.

Patience when I can feel frustration bubbling up into my voice and my face and my posture because I can change nothing in the world but my own attitude...and yet that change can change everything in my own world.

Patience, Santa,
to be a better wife.
a better Mum.
a better Daughter.
a better sister.
a better friend.

I know I need to work on this for myself too, I'm just hoping for maybe a little extra dose in my stocking this year if possible.
thank you, Santa
(send my love to the Mrs. and the elves)
xxoxox
tab

ps. also, World Peace
k, thanks, love you, bye.

let's let that cat out of the bag

finally you guys, I can get honest with you!  We are expecting Studerbaby number four!

I hope my blogging disappearance makes a little more sense now.  I am just now, at a little more than twelve weeks, drudging out of the exhaustive first trimester.  I mean, you guys, seriously.  Maybe I'm a super big crybaby or maybe it's fourth baby pregnancy with three other kids to take care of - but I've been dead tired for the past few weeks.

I was staring longingly at my laptop all like Adele, 'Hello, it's me,' but that's about as much energy as I could muster...literally glancing over at my keyboard and feeling guilty was as much as I could give.  #sadbuttrue.  So my apologies, dear friends. I thank you so much for sticking around.

Miraculously despite being up half the night with a sick son, today is the first day that I felt the weight of first trimester exhaustion lift from my shoulders.  You know that feeling, it's a real noticeable difference when you become a normal operating person again.  I was just saying to my sister the other day when I was still blanketed in tired that maybe my lack of motivation and tiredness was just the new me, that'd I'd never feel energized again.  I knew this was not true, as my fourth time through this, but you guys, after weeks, it can feel like that.  (so to all you first time mommas, hang in there! you'll get back to normal energy levels again!)

Now back to the matter at hand, ahem, the bun in my oven.
We figured out we were pregnant in the same way as we have for the past two pregnancies, Bullet told us.  As soon as he is aware which is usually about two weeks before I can even take a pregnancy test (dogs are amazing), he gets all protective and weird around me; constantly wanting to be by my side and sleeping right next to me.

We got the official notice in early October and kept it a secret until late October when we told the kids and grandparents by giving them a 'gift' with a Thing Four shirt in it.  Reactions were all surprised and very excited.  We went about telling our friends and family slowly from there, and we've been blessed to be met with joy and support from everyone.

There are lots of stories out there about people's reactions to big families, but we cannot be included in the group that gets met with judgement, and we are so very grateful for that.  It has been such a reminder to me how beautiful it is to raise our kids up in a community (both physically and metaphorically) of people that celebrate joy with us, with our kids.  It teaches them (and reminds us) to do the same when we see happiness and joy in our life - it is to be celebrated! not judged, or compared, or to make us jealous.  Shared joy is double joy, after all.  (thank you all for that).

Our studerbaby #4's due date is June 7th and we've started our official rounds of doctor's appointments and necessary steps to keeping this baby safe and growing.  I'm blessed again this time around to have my cousin Meg as our midwife.  I cannot explain what a comfort and relief it is to have her with me every step of the way.  She is amazing and so patient with any questions or weird texts I send her.  (thank you, Meg).  At my first consultation one of the nurses was going over the list of pregnancy reminders including, 'don't pick up more than 25lbs' as I was standing there holding Violet and Gemma was asking to be held next.  She and I made eye contact on that one and then both started laughing.  So she quickly followed that reminder up with, 'well, at least use good body mechanics.' #pregnantmomofthreeprobs

This is the first time in four times that it feels like we've made it to our family, at least what our family is in terms of homegrown kids.  It's the first time that the thought of not having a new baby in the house after this one isn't sad anymore, it's kind of thrilling and exciting to imagine our family as growing older together, instead of growing bigger in size.  For a long time, I was notorious for saying, 'I don't know how you know when you're done having babies?!' but now it feels like I know, it feels like this.  like contentment, like fullness, like the someone we've been waiting for.

photo credit:  Carissa Merriman

As in all things in life, who knows where it will take us.  Right now, we're attempting to operate business as usual and daydreaming about our fourth little baby who we hope is growing strong and healthy, and has the patience of a saint, because to join this Zoo Crew is going to be an adventure! Let exhibit A be this attempt at a Christmas card photo: