"All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind." ~Khalil Gibran.
We have an absolute smorgasbord of mind crumbs around here. Sometimes that works, and sometimes it is too many flavors at once.
I feel like I am always trying to streamline the sound, the flavor, into a palatable six course meal. But who gets to be dessert? Who's the drink? The main dish (me, of course).
We've had to talk a lot about fairness and what that really means. I mean, really, who DOES get to be the main dish? And do they get to be that all the time?
I have begun to find the balance of mommy-ing all these kids at once. Sometimes I think those mom who push out four kids in four years had the right idea. They just load them all into car seats or playgroup or the local museum for preschool activities and plow through their day (I canNOT imagine what all that would be like for a breastfeeding mother. I assume there is a lot of forced early weaning).
But there are moments when sibling rivalry or just plain nastiness takes over and I find myself swimming in a sea of uncertainty (just to use a cliche). How do they all know I love them? How do they know it doesn't matter to me whether their dad lives in Colchester or here in this house... I love them all equally.
Oh, I have tried to understand that favorites thing. Some of my friends freely admit they have a "favorite" in their bunches of offspring. But I truly cannot imagine such a thing. Once, Mom told me this story about a family of sibs that were talking after their mom died. Eventually one says, "Ya know, mom told me I was her favorite." And another looks up, surprised, and says, "Mom told ME I was her favorite." This went on, through all the siblings, and MY mom said, "Each of them got to feel they were special."
During a week of extra duress, I tried this on my older two (the younger two being too young to know what that means in any way) only to have them both respond, individually and with indignation, "BUT MOM! That's not FAIR!"
And I grinned, and smiled, and told them the story, and then said how proud I was of them for thinking about their siblings and wanting for them what they want for themselves.
Since then, I have decided that my smorgasbord and cacophony of kids and love is exactly the way it should be.
Even when they are yelling that they wish someone else would "just go away. I don't want ****/* here!" (Insert name of your choice).