Controlled Chaos

The past few weeks have been CRA-ZY. There were the normal stressors that we’ve grown accustomed to: California traffic, cohabitating with three children, trying to keep our home from burning down. But these past weeks have been different. First off, I started a new job; one that I knew would be both challenging and rewarding and I couldn’t wait to jump in. While I was excited, I also knew that it would throw our family back into a new state of {controlled} chaos with two working parents… let the games begin! 

The kids adjusted to returning to daycare and preschool very well. Cam was starting a fairly structured pre-kindergarten program which involved desks, homework, and set start times- a new experience for all of us. As our quiet child, he was a bit hesitant at first but eventually grew to fall in love with his teachers and classmates. Elliott was the least of our worries. She could become best friends with a tree if she wanted (believe me, I’ve witnessed it). She quickly gravitated to a new bestie with pink fur boots and a Disney princess lunchbox- easy win. Lastly, baby Liam. While I love all my children the same (were obliged to say that, right?) I knew it was going to be the most difficult to drop him off. It was like returning from maternity leave all over again; and I was not excited. What is it about handing over your child to another adult knowing that she would be caring for your child while you cannot? How does this simple action immediately make you feel like you’ve been a participant in a local Fight Club? Needless to say, I’m still working which means he’s still going to daycare. He’s been doing amazing, just as we knew he would. Let’s be honest, no one was worried about him- it was me all along. 

After a couple weeks of successful daycare drop-off’s and pick-up’s we became pros. We felt like rock stars. For future reference- when it comes to parenting, you’re never a pro. You are never a rock star. You should never feel like you have your stuff together. That is precisely when the universe tips your house over, shakes you up, and laughs in your face. Enter the last two weeks in our home…

Daycare brought us new friends, tuition bills, and the black plague. It started with Liam- congestion, runny nose, watery eyes. In addition, our sweet baby was gaining 4 small teeth. He was runny on limited sleep, lots of coughs, and endless tissues. Not to mention SEVERE diaper rash. Am I getting too graphic? We should have been investing in diaper cream and Kleenex stocks. My poor baby was absolutely miserable. And as a working parent, you know the struggle: 

1. You wake the child. He’s sick. You know he’s sick. You need to work. Tylenol. 
2. You drop him off at daycare, cross your fingers, and avoid the death stares from the teachers as they stink eye you, knowing your baby has no business being there.
3. You walk, no you run to your vehicle out of fear you will be tackled at the entrance, just short of the threshold to freedom. 
4. You make it to work and you hold your breath. You know the call is coming. “Hi, this is daycare, your son has had three loose stools in the past hour/fever of 101/excessive drainage from his eyes/seems uncomfortable/looked at me wrong/etc. You name it, they’re calling. Which means you are leaving work and surrendering to the forces. This has to be the most vulnerable feeling ever. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love my children. I struggle with guilt every day knowing that I work and am not home with my children. The guilt hits at an entirely different level when my children are sick. But what do I do? I am grateful for my husband for his ability to rotate with me on these days. I am also entirely grateful for our flexible jobs that allow us to work from home when necessary. The real props should go to single parents- you are the heros. I don’t know how you handle these situations. They say “parenting takes a village.” I can appreciate this. But my parenting style also takes a vineyard. A village and a vineyard. 

After a couple weeks, Liam was still struggling. Naturally, I caught the same bug and was struggling as well (minus the diaper rash). Cam and Elliott had a strain, but it didn’t seem as severe. Somehow, by the mercy of God, Aaron avoided it. This was best case scenario for all of us. Sick little humans are bad enough. A sick man, I can’t handle. Have you heard of the man flu?

Fast-forward to the past couple days. New days, new excitement. Swollen eyes for Liam. Not just puffy, swollen- like “pirate eyes” swollen. Diagnosis still TBD. Camden slips on floor, cracks his head open, a nice gash through his eyebrow. Stiches necessary? Debatable. Thank goodness for first aid kits and butterfly Bandaids. This leaves one lonely, injury-less child. But we all know Elliott can’t be left out of anything. If Cam has a Bandaid, Elliott needs a Bandaid. So she slapped that Bandaid across her forehead and carried on. Her prognosis was hit and miss for a while there, but we suspect she’ll make a full recovery. 

For future reference, the stress of parenting is hard. One day your walking on water and the next you’re Brittany Spears circa 2007. While we’re not completely out of the woods yet, everyone’s starting to look and feel a little better. We can {almost} declare a parenting victory. I’ve come to the realization that in these situations, all you can do is laugh, shrug your shoulders, and continue on to the next day. I understand now that this is parenting. This is what I signed up for. Tomorrow will be another day.