Love every minute

I was making dinner. Jared is gone. Porter follows me in the kitchen asking questions about about a fish. He wants to get his fish bowl ready so we can go pick out a fish tomorrow. I look for the colander so he can easily clean the rocks before he puts them in the bowl. Can't find it. Look more. And more. Call my mom, because she probably put it somewhere that seemed logical to her when she was kindly putting my dishes away. No answer. I look in every single cupboard (even the ones I had to climb to reach). No colander. Porter says he's hungry and wants something to eat.

"Well, that's why I came in here. To make dinner. NO MORE SNACKS!" Was that my voice? Why did that sound so harsh?

Enter Logan, in full Wolverine jumpsuit and mask. He's telling me about his Lego's. Enter Noah. Wants to fight and be wild. Logan starts crying. It turns out Noah can really pack a punch. Porter is still asking me questions about the fish and what to eat. Jessie is calling me from the living room, wondering why I stopped playing with the fairies.

"Because I need to make dinner! Logan, please play with Noah for a minute. I'm trying to make dinner! I can't do stuff for your fishbowl AND make dinner! You're going to have to do it yourself or put it away and wait for me to find my colander! Hey, stay out of the fridge! Sorry I sound so upset, I just need to stop talking for a minute and get dinner cooking! I'm not mad!"

We're being all fancy and having scrambled eggs with grilled cheese sandwiches tonight. I start cracking eggs as fast as I can. Noah runs to get the stool and starts scooting it over to the kitchen, which doesn't sound quite as bad as fingernails on a chalkboard. I'm in a hurry. Everybody's losing it. Or is it just me? It's okay if he doesn't help me crack eggs just this once, right? He scoots right next to me and climbs on the stool. I have never been more focused on cracking eggs than I am in this moment.

"Help! You! Help."
"Mmmhmm..."
"Mom, help! Me! Help! You!"
I just need a minute. That would really help. A lot.
"Help! K?"

I look at Noah. I see his big blue eyes looking up at me through a Batman mask. The only other thing he has on is a diaper. I hug this angel and kiss his sweet head, so thankful to be reminded to love every minute. There's a lot of chatter out in the blogosphere about how irritating it is when some person comes up to a mother, much like myself with little ones and feels the need to remind us to "love every minute." Really? Are we supposed to love this minute of trying to find the dang coupon that was just here a second ago while keeping the baby quiet and the two-year-old from squishing the bread? Are you sure about that? How about embrace that moment? Embrace. Yes. That's enough. And when we love someone we embrace them... so it's kind of the same thing. Anyway, Noah - and all the others - are growing up way too fast. Even stressful situations can turn into sweet moments when Heaven touches our home... if I can just keep my heart soft... and surrender to the good things instead of the I'd-really-rather-not things.

Sometimes, stressful situations can turn out to be sorta funny... even if it's the defeated sort of funny, or the "laugh to keep from crying" sort of funny. There are all different kinds of funny. The point is to laugh. Today, all four kids had their well-child doctor's visit. I love our family physician. We walked into the clinic at 11:15. I got everyone situated with something to do when the nurse calls us back. I put everything back in the bag. She weighs and measures. Porter, Jessie, and Noah are at least 93% in the height range. Logan is 78%. They are all in the 60% range for weight, which the doc described as "beautiful." Nurse does the eye exam. Porter fails (again) and is referred (again) to an eye doctor. When the nurse asked him to read a row of letters he was having a hard time, so darling little Jessie started whispering the letters to him. "No cheating!" the nurse said, and I thought it was so funny. And sweet. We visit with our doctor and all is well. Porter needs a booster Hep B shot because our previous pediatrician gave it too soon. Jessie needs her 4-year-old shots. The nurse wants to give everyone a flu shot (I pass on that one). Porter screams and cries until he gets the shot, and then says, "That was it? It just felt like a pinch." Yes, we have some room for improvement there. Jessie has a very hard time and I know one of her shots was quite painful. Nurse leaves. We stay in the exam room, me rocking Jessie and telling the boys to put their stuff away, for a few more minutes. We checkout with stickers and heart lollipops. Lollipops are reserved for kids who get shots, but Noah and Logan looked so sad because of what their sister went through she thought they all had shots. I didn't correct her because I'm not honest to a fault, but Logan is. She let him and Noah have a lollipop anyway. We get into the elevator. We exit the elevator, rather quickly, because Noah hates those things. Most kids think they're fun but he really dislikes the elevator so much that I'm sure if he knew we could take stairs he would convince us to go that way instead. Anyway, I'm nearly out the building (trying to keep up with Noah) and I hear a "WAIT!! MOM!! MOOOOOM!!!" I run back as fast as I can and (luckily) push the button quickly enough that the elevator had not gone back up and a panicked Logan runs out. What is wrong with me? I'm supposed to be herding everyone not leading the way! Lesson learned for me AND Logan. I told the kids, "If something like that ever happens again, just stay where you are and I will find you." If the elevator went back up and he got out on another floor that would've been scary. Whew! At this point we were ready for lunch and for ice cream and for playing a little hooky. They must think I'm so easy to talk into things by now.