Things I've (finally) Learned After Four Kids

These kids are nuts.

Ya’ll.  I have four kids.  It’s kind of a lot.  I’ve spent the last eight months feeling a little bit like the stereotypical crazed mom of lots of littles.  You know, manic eyes, unshowered, yoga pants and spit up covered shirt.  (Can we talk about the spit up?  Rory is still spitting up after pretty much every meal.  Now that she’s eating solids her spit up is a rainbow of colors and it has stained every article of clothing I own.)  Now, though, it’s summer and I’m slowly crawling my way out of the hole.  The weather is better, our schedule is a little more relaxed but also defined.  Rory can handle a shorter morning nap and a few more excursions.  I’m feeling more like myself.  It’s kinda nice.

And over the past eight months I’ve learned some lessons that I’m slightly embarrassed to admit took me four kids to figure out.  So I figured I should share them, if only to allow you to benefit from my stupidity/wisdom sooner than later.

And so, without further adieu: A few things I’ve finally learned after four kids…

1.) How to remove a onesie after a blowout.

Those shoulder slits do more than just get the onesie over the kids head...

You guys.  You guys.  This one will change your life if you’re like me and you cleaned up countless diaper blowouts without figuring this out.  You know how onesies have those funny shoulders with the slits?  I always thought it was just so you could get the onesies over babies’ huge domes.  But you know what else you can do with them?  Pull the onesie down over their shoulders in the event of a blowout diaper.

I mean, all those years of trying to get poop filled onesies over my kids heads without getting crap in their hair and it wasn’t until kid number four that I finally figured out I could just pull it down.  Life changing I tell you.  And it came just in time because for a while there Rory was only pooping once a day and it was a disaster every. single. time.

2.) Sometimes, like when you serve chili to a 6 month old, its just best to strip them down to their diaper.

so much mess.

Rory loves ground beef.  Taco Tuesday is her favorite.  Chili mac makes her heart soar.  Pasta sauce with meat in it is her love language.  And I’ve finally learned that when she is eating messy meals like this I should just strip her down to her diaper before we eat.  Because there is not a bib in the world that will protect her clothing from that mess.  Somehow she manages to get pasta sauce on her toes.  Her clothes don’t stand a chance.  So it’s hillbilly style dining around here and I’m fine with it.

3.) Some toys are just not worth it.

I’ve developed what I call the “Out of my hair to clean up ratio” when it comes to toys.  I think that the primary function of toys should be to entertain my kids so I don’t have to.  But after four kids I’ve realized that not all toys and activities were created equal in their ability to do this job.  And I’ve become ruthless in eliminating/hiding toys that don’t meet the proper “Out of my hair/clean up ratio” standards.  In order for a toy to remain in good standing around here it needs to occupy my kids for at least three times as long as it takes to clean up said toy.  This is why I will let my kids remove every costume in the bin, turn any and all boxes into robots/computers/airplanes/sea creature, and drag their laundry basket to the basement so it can be an elevator (I still can’t figure out what they were doing with that one).  Because these things occupy my kids for hours.  Or at least 45 minutes.  It’s why I leave crayons, markers coloring books and pads of paper at eye level on the closet shelf and don’t complain when every crayon ends up on the floor.  They’ve spent 25 minutes coloring one scribble on each page in the book and not whining at my feet to be picked up (side eye to you Lou).  If it takes me 7 minutes to clean all that up I’ll still think it was worth it.

Things that do not make the cut include play dough, arts and crafts projects and legos (kinda).  Play dough occupies my kids for approximately 3 and a half minutes and then I spend the next three weeks finding dried up dough inside every crevice, on every surface, and under every fingernail in my house.  Arts and crafts project kits don’t make the cut because it is decidedly not an “out of my hair” activity.  I have the help with the gluing and the cutting and in the end my kids have a paper owl that looks more like a disfigured snake and I’m supposed to treasure it always.  And also the whole time I want to stab my eyes with the scissors.  Liam is just starting to be able to assemble legos on his own, but for years it required me trying to access the non existent engineer in my brain to figure out the instructions.  

And finally number 4:  I don’t have to be all the moms 

Some moms are great “arts and crafts” moms.  Some are “play with trains for hours” moms.  Some are “chase you around the park for hours” moms.  These are examples of mom-ing things that I am maybe not great at.  I remember once taking Liam to the park when I was 17 months pregnant with Ryann.  There was a mom there who was the quintessential “cool mom.”  She was young and fit and obviously so fun.  She chased her kid around the park, running up the equipment and sliding down the slide, laughing with seemingly endless bounds of energy.  I watched her, hand resting on my gigantic belly vowing to be like her as soon as this kid was evicted from my womb.  But the reality is I’m just not that mom.  I would like to be, but I’m really not.  When I do it I feel unnatural.  Like I’m playing a character.

I am the kind of mom that sings show tunes in my kitchen with the girls.  The mom that takes the kids on the train or to the pool.  I’m the mom who reads their favorite books a million times and uses my full arsenal of accents and voices.  I’m a “dance party when everyone is melting down” mom.  I’m a “get out of the house” mom.  I’m the “scratch your back forever” mom.  I’m finding that when I am intentional about focusing my energy in these ways with my kids I don’t feel guilty about not being the other moms.  I can love it when my friends are the kind of moms they were built to be without feeling all the “I should do that too” angst.  And my kids don’t care.  They just want me to be their mom, whichever kind of mom that is.  

So, there’s a few things I’m (slowly) learning.  What about you?  Anything 2 or 3 or 4 kids are teaching you??