Step by Step Parenting

We did it: we survived a crazy week that I’ve been dreading for over a month.

Three different school schedules.

Three different counties.

Two parents.

Outnumbered by five kids (and a dog!)…

While my husband and I worked opposite schedules from one another, like ships passing in the night.

This crazy Tetris of a schedule has existed in theory ever since I registered for classes months ago, but this week, it finally became a reality. It’s one thing to arrange and rearrange color-coded blocks on a Google calendar, and it’s another thing entirely to actually live it.

It went as smoothly as I thought it would. No sarcasm, it really did run like a well-oiled machine.

And yet… I kind of hated it.

Sunday was our last day with just the twins before another week with all five kids. We figured with only two kids — and babies, at that — that church would be a lot calmer than normal.

The twins must have caught wind of our assumption, though, because we were quickly humbled. Every time one baby calmed down enough to be brought back to the chapel, the other would start crying. I’m pretty sure the lady sitting on the couch in the foyer thought that Kevin and I were taking turns with the same, really fussy baby until the meeting was over and she saw us walk out with both of them.

For the second hour of church, Kevin and I divided and conquered, like we always do. It doesn’t matter which baby I take lately, somehow I end up with the baby that cries unless she’s being walked up and down the hallway. I hadn’t been sitting in class for sixty seconds before I up and left, pacing the halls with… I can’t even remember which one at this point. But she was crying.

I ran into Kevin in the foyer during this, and we couldn’t help but shake our heads and laugh. Most Sundays, I honestly question why we even bother going to church when we spend most of it not in the meetings. But that’s just how church goes when you have small kids, and I like to think that God notices the effort, even if it is chaotic.

Monday was Labor Day, but Kevin had work from 8:30am until 6:00pm, meaning that I was home alone with all five kids. By some miracle, both of the twins fell asleep for their morning nap at the same time, so I decided to tell the big kids it was quiet time and try and get some reading done for school.

I had been reading for Wills and Trusts for about thirty minutes when Eloisa came into my room and announced that her and Thomas had cleaned the toys.

“What do you mean?” I asked, “Do you mean that you cleaned up the toys?”

“No,” Eloisa insisted, “we cleaned the toys!”

Intrigued, I got up and made my way downstairs, to the scene of the crime. On the porch, there it was: a bin, filled with Magna-tiles… covered in bubbles. You know, the kind of bubbles you’re supposed to blow outside and not bathe toys in. The entire tub of sidewalk chalk was mixed in there, too, rapidly disintegrating and leaving streaks of color everywhere.

Some of the Magna-tiles were salvageable, but some, now filled with bubbles that had leaked in through the screw holes, were ruined. The Magna-tiles were my kids most expensive toys, and mostly gifted, so I was upset because I knew I wouldn’t be able to replace them anytime soon.

Instead of relaxing and studying during the twins’ nap like I had hoped, I spent it creating a Magna-tile cleaning assembly line on the back porch, helping my fake twins1 clean them all one by one. Afterwards, we wrote out family rules to post by the front door (and we’ve revisited them regularly since) and I may or may not have made Eloisa write, “I will take good care of my toys” fifty times. Thomas can’t read or write yet, so his punishment was to watch her quietly.

Kennedy had no part in the fake twins’ shenanigans, so it wasn’t entirely fair to her that our trip to Mimi’s pool was cancelled because of them. To make up for it, Kennedy and I snuck away to my mom’s hot tub once Kevin came home from work. It actually ended up being so nice to get some one-on-one time together. Everyone in the house is part of a “pair” (me and my husband, the two fake twins, the real twins) except for her, so I frequently worry about her feeling lonely or left out. With Kevin working longer hours lately, I’ve made an extra effort to really bond with Kennedy and it’s done wonders. Our getaway to Mimi’s was exactly what we needed.

The rest of the week was honestly pretty tough. With Kevin’s kids going to school out of county, he was having to spend nearly three hours in the car every day just to get them to and from school. Because I had to take Eloisa to school just down the road and then get myself to law school, Kevin had to take the twins with him.

It throws off their whole schedule to have to be in the car from 7:15am until 8:30am, and then again from 2:00pm to 3:30pm, and not to mention that by the end of the week, they always have horrible diaper rashes from all of that time spent in the car. Even if we change their diapers right before leaving, and even if we use Aquaphor, they still get a rash.

By the end of the week, honestly, I was filled with resentment. We didn’t choose for Kevin’s kids to go to school that far away. We also can’t move them schools. It doesn’t work for our family, and it’s not fair to the other three kids. Not only do the twins have to spend hours in the car every day, but Eloisa has to go to both before and after school care because of it. On Thursday, she spent almost twelve hours at school. Kevin and I never wanted this, and there’s no way out of it, and although it won’t be forever, this week, the magnitude of how difficult our situation is just really got to me.

But when I finally made it to Eloisa’s school to pick her up on Thursday, at nearly five o’clock in the evening, the first thing she said was, “Ugh, I wish I could stay longer!” She had spent the afternoon playing at the playground, doing crafts with friends, and watching a movie. She didn’t want to go home.

With that, I felt my heart soften a little. As parents, I think we’re sometimes quick to get defensive of our kids without pausing to consider whether they even need our defending. There I was, all in my feels and getting resentful because of how our custody arrangement was “negatively” affecting my three daughters, while my daughter actually seemed completely unfazed.

It doesn’t mean the situation doesn’t suck. It doesn’t mean that my husband and I don’t need to come up with some boundaries to protect our family’s peace a little bit more. It doesn’t mean that it’s not hard. But… it also doesn’t mean that it’s forever, or that I have to let my feelings of resentment consume me. A huge part of co-parenting is learning how to coexist with conflict, and it’s not something you learn once and then you’re done: it’s a journey that lasts forever.

If all of that wasn’t enough (I’m almost done complaining, I promise), I found out that I failed the MPRE again this week. For reference, it’s scored on a scale of 50 to 150, and you need an 80 to pass in North Carolina. I wasn’t even close to passing the first time I took it, largely because I didn’t study. I meant to defer, missed the deadline, and though, Well how hard can it be? Turns out, hard! This time, however, I studied a lot more and really thought I had it. Apparently not. I only failed by four points, so that’s really good progress from the first time I took it, but still.

The news really shook my confidence for a few days, and my postpartum brain took that insecurity and ran with it. I began to question whether I was really cut out to be a lawyer, which is crazy, because I only have a few months left before I graduate and have already accumulated almost a year of working experience in the legal field. Of course I have what it takes! I struggled to see it that way, though. And when I found out my grade from my second summer class, which was released this past week, I felt even worse. I did okay, but not as well as I thought I would have, and it felt like I was getting kicked while I was down.

On Friday, things began to look up. The office is closed Fridays, so I show up to work in my favorite sweatsuit and fuzzy socks, with a large Chick-fil-a soda in hand, and work in peace for the day. I’ll play calming study music from my laptop and grind out a bunch of work. This week, it was a perfect reminder that I actually know what I’m doing and am capable of helping people.

On Saturday, I met up with a friend at a park I had never been to before, and all of the kids played while we chatted. It’s one of the few times this summer that I’ve taken all five kids out for an adventure by myself, and I’m so glad I went! Emersyn learned to sit up only the day before (!!!), and she had a blast watching her older siblings play. We will definitely be going back!

As I reflect back on this past week, I’m trying not to be too hard on myself. Yes, this new schedule will take some getting used to, but I’ll get there. I miss my husband dearly, and solo parenting all five kids every single day is tough, but that’s just the season of life we’re in. I’m glad the week is over, but I’m still thankful for all of the lessons learned and memories made.