a progress report: one week in

bada bing ...

welllll, well, well.

Phoebe like, "take me back to the uterus. now."

I have all these deep and introspective things (nipple cream! why 4 kids is easier than 2 kids! yoga pants are my life blood! why aren't nipple shields the color of neon and flashing lights because clear blends into every surface under the sun!) to blog about but just as soon as I sit down to do so ... someone cries. And it's usually not me. So we'll see how far I get today. Simon says that for the next several months I just need to make peace with the fact that my posts will have to be shorter and he's right. So ... brevity! Not my strongest suit ... but broadening horizons and all those beautiful pointe shoes.

"look at her little face! it's so cute ... sometimes."

Anyway, vámonos.
(or is it vámos?)

the good
there's a lot of good! A surprising amount.
+ Phoebe sleeps a lot at night. I don't want to type, "she's sleeping through the night" because that is the kiss of death for night sleeping children but she's an incredible night sleeper and I know it's temporary but God bless some quality sleep.
(I told you! she heard me type-bragging about her and is now squawking but I'm going to try the nurse + type maneuver ... because I love this craft)
+ I know it's all in my doting mother head but Phoebe seems to have the sweetest disposition. Unless she's hungry - which is often. But those few minutes a day that she's awake and content and wrestling with the air ... she seems like she'll be a nice little girl.
+ Theo! I fully expected him to throw a month long temper tantrum about being dethroned because the child has needs and expectations. But, so far ... so wrong.

"Theo, go watch Pheobe and tell me if she blinks. Otherwise ... just sit. And stay."

Or don't.

He's content to walk around the house in search of innocuous mischief while bouncing back to check on Phoebe and then off he stumbles ... repeat. Small mercies. Except this one is huge.
+ the big kids. They've also been great. Julia didn't cry this morning when I dropped her off at preschool which was such a breath of happy air after the past several weeks of morning sob operas. So my silent but almost deadly morning long anxiety attack about getting all four kids in the car and to preschool drop-off without any major hiccups was all for nothing. Sebastian is mostly gentle with Phoebe and can be entertained by a mashup of fire truck clips on YouTube if I'm feeling super desperate (which I am! quite a bit!).

and the way to Julia's heart is through a good Easter candy bribe. and Grace is not above it.

the bad
+ Phoebe makes up for her spectacular night sleeping by nursing the majority of the day. It's fine - well, no it's not but it has to be for now. Sebastian was the same way and I know it's temporary but I wish I had a (showered, dressed, and less puffy faced) clone. The big kids know I'm helpless on the couch and definitely take advantage of my figurative absence by fighting to their heart's content in another room which takes my nerves straight through a grater but ... I'm sure it could be worse. I think.
+ I guess that's it but ... 3rd and 4th arms! I need you!!

the funny
+ Sebastian calls Phoebe, "Fifi" (like fee-fee) and I think he genuinly thinks that's her name. close enough.
+ I tried to hop in the shower for a super quick rinse off on three separate occasions this morning but Fifi's two hour long breakfast just was not having it. Finally Julia walked over, tore off her shirt and asked if she could, "give a feed a try."
+ Phoebe trying to nurse Simon's shirt. Julia did the same thing and it never ceases to make me cackle.

the ugly (or the pretty, whatever)
+ getting dressed. I tried this morning but there is nothing worse than this in-betwixt-all-the-sizes-in-your-closet-of-many-sizes period. I actually heard my pants zipper laugh a hearty laugh as I stuffed them back in my "don't even try, Grace" dresser drawer. Lycra bootcuts (aka yoga pants, aka fifth child, aka second husband aka bff+e) 4 life, baby. Or at least the next few weeks until I garner enough stupid to try again. Yes, yes, yes - the life giving body is a beautiful thing. I agree. I'm just grasping for a little semblance of normal here but I know everything takes time. Even truth telling hips.

I want to drone on. And on. And on. But I have 4 kids napping and have to see about some some postpartum pants (because how awesome does Blythe look in dem jeans? very, the answer is very awesome). No shame in my copycatting game: verbatim style around here.

Thanks for your patience as I try to find my footing in all life arenas these next several weeks. I always look back when the kids are a few months old and wish I'd been easier on myself and not in any harried hurry to get back to normal normal the first six/eight/ten/more weeks postpartum so I'm trying to do just that this time around. I am being super shameless about upping my Instagram posts because they're easy and that is my second favorite sharing genre to blogging.

x from me and o from Phoebe.

like so.

... badaboom.