Lifting Spatulas

This kid is a fantastic nurser.  

He fills his diapers beautifully.  

He squawks like a pterodactyl  

and burps like a pro. 

first bath

I am slowly picking up the pieces of normalcy around here--picking them up and weakly trying to figure out where they fit, because the Whole Picture has changed.  I sat on the couch the other day, feeding this boy with the rest of the kids freshly home from school ( = chaos and general inability to stop bouncing off the walls) and thought to myself, there are a lot of kids in here....and they're all mine.  I felt overwhelmed in that moment and wondered what.have. we.done.   

There are debates about who gets to hold him next and for how long.  I must admit I like that I have first dibs, seeing how I'm his source of food and all.  Everything I eat Azure will comment on: You need to eat lots of popcorn so you can make more milk, right?  Exacaaactly.  I've been instructed by my midwife not to lift anything heavier than a spatula, (because, apparently 6 babies puts mileage on one's body odometer) but then we laughed about the absurdity of that request and settled on anything heavier than this boy.  Does that mean the laundry? ;)  I walk by my sewing studio with a bit of yearning in my eyes, but then pick up this bundle and remember that he is already growing way too quickly and to let him sleep on my chest if that's how he sleeps best, and to pick him up the moment he makes a squeak, because he's so easily consoled that I just can't resist and to Enjoy this time.  I went through the girl baby clothes that are too small for Clover to give away and was rather melancholy about the fact that there won't be another baby dill to fill them, holding them up, remembering when and from whom we received them or the occasion for which I made them.  I've taken for granted the fact that there has always been another little body on which to see my creations pop up again and again.  

That's when the advice from strangers about "enjoying this time while they're little, because they grow up too fast" smacked me across the face.  Yes, we have our hands full.  Yes, we are starting to realize just how much our offspring consume and how they all have opinions about everything, voicing them right in your ear sometimes, but seeing the tangible evidence of onesies that once fit our ten-year-old helps put things into perspective.  I smile as I fold the freshly laundered itty bitty (BOY!) clothes, look forward to the moment he wakes from a nap, and enjoy talking to his attentive little face as I change each diaper.  And there are a lot of them.