Flashback Friday: An Imbalanced Family

*I'm off to a childbirth educator's workshop this weekend, so to make life easier for me, here's another Flashback Friday!  This post was written a year and a half ago, right before the birth of my fourth baby girl.  I hope you enjoy!*

An Imbalanced Family

*originally posted January 2, 2009*

I do alot of reading online, various articles, message boards, blogs, etc.  I don't really enjoy watching the news, so I learn alot about what's going on in the world by reading the opinions and thoughts of people who enjoy it more than I.  I also find reading the thoughts of complete strangers interesting because often my sphere of interaction is rather small and one-sided, meaning the people I spend the most time with in real life have similar views and thought processes as myself.  So, reading online allows me to investigate other viewpoints and beliefs and really stretches me to think about things outside of my own box.

That being said, I ran across an interesting concept today that had never occurred to me before.  And to be honest, it initially rubbed me the wrong way.  I was reading a thread on a message board about opinions on high-tech gender selection.  Basically, choosing the sex of your baby by using science and technology, ie.  MicroSort.  I'll tread lightly on my own thoughts about MicroSort and the like.  In general I'm an "in moderation" type of person and I'm incredibly grateful for advances in science that even make such a thing a possibility.  It wasn't the fact that this sort of technology is available that rubbed me the wrong way.  It was the suggestion by some of the posters on the thread that did.  The thought held by some of them that MicroSort might be necessary in order to correct a gender "imbalance" in the family.

I'm sure I'm internalizing these comments too much, but indulge me for a moment.  At first glance I suppose that our family would be considered "imbalanced".  In a mere 6 weeks it will be 5 to 1 in favor of estrogen.  Our pink/red laundry still outweighs all other colors handsdown.  Even though we have a bin full of matchbox cars and a race and go speedway, they get passed over more often than not in favor of Littlest Pet Shop, My Little Pony and Barbie.  And yet, I look at my family and I see not imbalance, but perfection - exactly what was intended to be.

I realize that it is probably difficult for me to have an unbiased opinion about this "imbalanced family" concept given the status of my own family.  It just bothers me to think that someone might look at us walking through the mall or eating at a restaurant and actually pity hubby and I for having an "imbalance", as if it's a disease or something.  And perhaps it's just semantics.  Maybe if a different choice of words was used, it might not sting quite as much.  Imbalance suggests imperfection, no?  But by the same token, I hate to think that there are people in this world that may feel their own families are "imbalanced" because they only have girls, or only have boys, or maybe have some of each but not equal parts.  I can totally understand wishing to experience pink or blue and totally sympathize with those that feel somehow incomplete if they for whatever reason are not able to.  But to suggest that a family is somehow imbalanced or imperfect simply because of the gender makeup of the children bothers me.  And I suppose this is the point where my own views and beliefs come into play.  I don't know why hubby and I are the parents of (almost) 4 girls and no boys, but I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is how it was meant to be.  That for whatever reason we were chosen to be the leaders of this Planet Pink.  And in my (maybe not so humble) opinion we're doing the best we can at it.  

Would it have been interesting and exciting to add a little blue to this planet?  Sure thing.  But I would suggest that balance is NOT what blue would have brought to our family dynamic at this point!  

My friends, how do you feel about family "balance"?  Is it really about gender, or do other factors contribute to family dynamics?  Can you be a balanced family without equal parts?  Or does there need to be so-called "balance" at all?

Imagine

When you imagined being a mama, what thoughts commanded your attention?

How adorable you'd look pregnant?  How you were going to get that baby out?  Whether or not you should splurge on the gorgeous crib bedding with all the matching nursery accessories?

Yeah.  Me too.

When you imagined being a mama, what visions floated in your mind?

The too cute for words layette at Gymboree?  Scenes of quiet evenings at home, just you and the hubs with the babe sleeping peacefully nearby?  The nursery with that gorgeous crib bedding and all the matching accessories?

Yeah.  Me too.

When you imagined being a mama, did your imagination take you past babyhood?

Yeah.  Me neither.

Countless books I read, websites I perused, conversations I had - all centered around being mama to a baby.  Ask me how many books I've read about being mama to a non-baby.

Big Fat Zero.

As if I have time now.  Now, when I could really use advice about how to help Princess #1 navigate her increasingly hormonal reactions.  Now, when I would like to hear about how other mamas handle it when they catch their little ones telling little white lies.  Now, when I feel more than ever that the decisions I make and the paths I choose have the greatest affect on their formative young minds.  Talk about pressure!

I wish I had thought to imagine being mama to children.

Not that I'd have any more of a clue now, but maybe I would have been just a bit more prepared.  Or less caught off guard.  Or something.

At least my crib bedding was gorgeous.

Dear friends, did your imagination take you past diapers?  Or did you stop at the crib bedding like me?

And That's That.

I expected to be more sentimental.  More sad.  More torn between the sweetness of independence and the bitterness of the same.

I expected to be more something.

But instead, I'm just at peace.

It was time I suppose.  Eighteen months past the day of her birth, we had well surpassed the final days of her sisters.

And she was ready.  Our moments were brief, occurring only at bedtime and lasting a mere minute or two.

So grown up she is, able to soothe herself to sleep in the comfort of her own bed.  She desires that solitude.  It feels weird to not be needed in that way any longer.

An act I identified with for five years collectively.  Something that defined me, that placed me within a group - for you either do or you don't.  And I did.

For five years.

And now I no longer.  And I expected those final moments to bring more emotion.  For you don't do anything for five years without developing some sort of opinion about it.  Love it or hate it, the end is an end and there's no going back.

But it was just time.

I look at her now and realize my days of being mama to a baby are quickly transforming into days of being mama to a toddler.  We are racing toward that transition at a break neck speed.  And for the first time ever, there's no baby waiting in the wings to take that place.

I suppose I feel more sadness and sentimentality over that fact than anything else.

And perhaps that's the way it should be.  It's not the end of the act that's bittersweet, it's what that end represents for our family and for me.

It's the closing of a chapter.  And like any good book, I'm eager to begin the next.  Yet I linger with a sense of wistfulness over the pages I've just finished.  Because although I will remember them with crisp clarity, it will never be the same as reading them for the first time.

Flashback Friday: I Don't Know How You Do It

I Don't Know How You Do It

*originally posted Sept. 9, 2009*

There is this sweet lady we run into regularly, and it never fails that when we engage her in conversation she inevitably will make the statement: "I don't know how you do it!". I "think" she means it as a compliment, like I'm accomplishing something spectacular... I'm never really sure how to answer her so I usually laugh it off with a "I don't know either!". I laugh it off, but inside I'm frantically taking stock: Is my shirt on inside out? Did I remember to brush my teeth? Did I forget to put eyeliner on BOTH eyes? Can she see I'm actually just barely holding on by my fingertips? I mean, I get it. One look at me and my 4 princesses out and about and I'd probably have the same thoughts about me!

But the truth is, I think I DO know how I do it. I mean, not specifically, but overall - yeah. I know how. I do it because it's LIFE. It's my life. It's not like I can wake up in the morning and tell princess #2 who is climbing in my side of the bed at 6 am begging for breakfast that I'm sorry, I'm not doing it today. She'll have to ask someone else (and oh how at times I've dreamt that I could!). I don't know anything different. Most days, being mommy to 4 princesses isn't overwhelming to me because it's what I DO, every.single.day. And I really don't feel like I'm doing anything spectacular as I nuke 15 chicken nuggets for dinner or change a dozen diapers in a day. The fact that we run from one activity to the next on a daily basis is tiring, yes, but still... normal somehow. It almost makes me feel uncomfortable to be regarded as doing something remarkable. I mean really, how remarkable can cleaning dried boogers off a dirty face be?

So then I have to stop and force myself to really take a look at what's going on in our home. Past the chicken nuggets, diapers and boogers. Past what I see day in and day out, and to what people from the outside looking in see. I think it's so easy for me to get caught up in the small, mundane details that make up my life, that I often fail to see the big picture. And I end up selling myself short. Because where I see normalcy, others see extraordinary. Not everyone gets the privilege of raising 4 princesses. Sometimes I need to take a step back and recognize the incredible gift we've been given, and see how truly remarkable that is.

PS - if you do happen to notice me wearing my shirt inside out, please let me know. I may be doing something extraordinary, but I AM still the mommy to 4 princesses. Alot can happen to my brain cells between getting out of bed and getting dressed!

Dear Chronic Lane Changer

Yes, you in the black Toyota Prius with temporary tags.

What's the deal?  Where's the fire?

Do you have an issue with there being another vehicle in front of you?  Because let me clue you in on a little secret:  There will always be another vehicle in front of you.  You can't win.

I know it's a pain to get stuck behind someone going 2 mph less than you.  I get it.

But exercise some patience.  There's no need to recklessly fling yourself into the next lane.

Because I know you didn't check your rearview mirror.

You might have been blessed with the invincible gene, but my family wasn't.  My babies are in the car.  You don't want to meet Mama Bear.  Trust me.

I'd appreciate it if in the future you exercise just a bit more caution when sharing the road with others.  Particularly on days when driving conditions are adverse (such as today).  There's just no need to jump from lane to lane like you're play hopscotch.

It just makes me laugh at you later when we're stopped side by side at the same red light.