Days of the Camels

I did it once.  It was nine years ago and I was with my bosom buddy in Timbuctu.  It was a perfect sort of day - the kind where you know the sunset will be beautiful over the vast desert leading to the Sahara.  You know the kind I mean.  We took the opportunity to ask a local if we could ride his camels.  He chose three of his camels and took us on a beautiful sunset ride, breathing in the fresh air, the clean air, the African air.  And internalizing the quietness.  Oh, the quietness...

I had a normal day today.  My four year old stopped chatting only to poop.  And much of that was filled with chatter.  My 2 year old remained at arm's length or less away from me all day.  He’s fighting another cold and I have the kleenex closeby to wipe away the plethora of snot.  The dog spent the majority of the day outside, scratching on our living room window to try to get in.  I witnessed 3 fights, many moments of fun, and lots of “MOM, COME!”  

My life is pretty much like that of every other mother's of young children.  It’s beautiful chaos and I know I will miss it when the kids are older and the house is cleaner.  

Maybe that’s why we are having a third.  I've been inhabited again.  Yes, at the beginning of November I’ll be squashing 3 car seats in the back of my small car and getting up in the night with 3 children.  We will be adding chaos to chaos and love to love.  We will be more tired, and, as they say, marital satisfaction decreases with each child...???  

Malana’s reaction to learning her little brother will soon be a big brother was memorable.  Her wheels have been turning as she imagines buckling in the baby in the middle car seat because I won’t be able to reach.  And telling me that I cannot have dessert because the baby needs good nutrients.  She has already named the baby Cinderella.  Most importantly, she told me she already loves the baby so much.  Lucky baby.  

But I don’t think that the magnitude of what being pregnant again really means hit me until Malana suddenly had an awakening.  “MOM!”  She said at random while driving in the car.  “You won’t be able to ride a camel when you have a baby inside of you!”  

Why her little self thought of that, only the little girl brain fairies will know, but she had a point.  My calm days of carelessly hopping on a camel in the quiet desert and breathing in stillness are over:  times three.  

So bring on the messy hands and come see my dirty floors.  Give me my bath toy showers and pretend like you don’t notice the mess under the beds.  Don’t judge us for the amount of screams and whines, just let us be imperfect.  

Lord, give me the acceptance of the craziness and the ability to savour the chaos.  I’ve got babies to love, and babies grow up.  

I might get to that pile of laundry after all.  I made some room by crossing off “camel riding” from my agenda.