At any rate- the past year has been busy, hectic and amazing. (yes, of course life can be all three of those) The most notable happening of the past year was the birth of Cecilia Mariposa Cox, our beautiful baby girl, born in July. She has completed our family, and has made me the happiest I’ve ever felt- I knew before she was conceived that there was still one more that needed to be added to our brood, and she was it. The puzzle now truly feels complete.
That said, as happy as she has made me, and as much fun as it is to have four energetic children...it is also quite tiring. As I mentioned in my post last week- a typical day starts at 6:30am, and goes to 10:30pm with dressing, feeding, drop-offs, cleaning, working, feeding, pick-up (school), preparing dinner, cleaning, feeding, working, another pick-up, errands, cleaning, feeding, feeding, homework, sports, feeding, bathing, reading, feeding...and then finally...SLEEP----in between the night-time feedings, of course.
It feels a bit like a merry-go-round, each day passes so quickly, the highs, the lows, the tantrums, the amazing pictures drawn of our family by our kids, the songs they sing, the screams they scream, the hugs they give, and the fights we break up...it is TRULY non-stop, and even with help (we have a wonderful Au Pair), a couple of rough days can make you want to lay on the couch and take a week-long nap.
All older parents constantly cajole “Enjoy it while they are little, they are big before you know it!”...and of course, I try to savor as much as I can, but it is tough when you’ve dealt with 4 tantrums in a row, and have a baby who hates being in the car for any longer than 5 minutes. There are definitely times that leave me wondering how I am going to get through this day, much less get through the next, and the one after that, and the week after that, and so on.
In October, something happened that put the daily routine/craziness all in perspective for me. It is something that I have reflected on every time I feel overwhelmed or tired or just plain cranky that makes me less stressed/annoyed and gives me more patience instantly...
We were at Squaw Valley in Tahoe...Ed was participating in a crazy 13 mile race called the Tough Mudder, and I had driven up with the kids, my sister, Christy, and Ana, our Au Pair, to go and cheer him on and spend the weekend in Tahoe. We got to the race on Saturday morning, and it was pure MAYHEM. They anticipated 16,000 people participating in the event over the course of the weekend, and this is not including the thousands of spectators, family, booths, vendors, etc etc etc. People were dressed in crazy costumes, there were bands playing, it was all held on the mountain, where people usually ski- it was all dirt/rocks, rough.
As soon as we got there (Ed was running the race already, we came in hopes to catch him near the end/watch the end/cheer him through the finish line) we realized that even with 3 adults, 4 children would be tricky to keep in check. Christy, Ana and I each took 1 of the big kids, and I strapped Cecilia (the baby) to my chest. We managed to arrive 10 minutes before Ed was passing by where we stood, so the kids were super excited to cheer for him, see him, give him kisses as he passed us by on his way to the finish. He finished quickly, came over to us, and we hung out at the DCF (Diablo Cross Fit- our gym) tent while Ed unwound and got some food. We spent the next 2 hours getting lunch, visiting the booths, and people-watching (the outfits people had were insane!!).
(Yes, they were doing the race too. Where do people come up with these ideas???!)
The kids were mesmerized by the craziness, and thoroughly enjoyed watching the people racing, trying out booths (like the Marines’ pull-up competition booth) and eating goodies like ice cream dipped in chocolate. (YUM) After a couple of hours, we saw the owner of our gym, and his wife finishing up their race...we went near the last obstacle (the race is 13 miles of running through hills, with 23 obstacles, crazy, crazy- to get through) to cheer them on and to see them finish. The obstacle was one where people have to balance on a wooden 2x4 on its’ side, across a probably 30-40 foot “lake” of cold water. The husband sailed across, made it without falling in, the wife fell in, but promptly got out, and both made it across the finish. We cheered, took pictures, and then looked at each other and said- “OK, time to get going”. During that time, Samantha and Sacha had been sitting right in front of us at the obstacle, watching and cheering as well. I was still holding Cecilia in the front pack on my body, and Ed, Ana and Christy had been standing in front of the obstacle cheering as well.
When we went to go grab all the kids to hold our hands to walk back through the crowds though...Adam (our 2 year old) was nowhere to be seen.
You know when you get that immediate baseball in your throat? Yup.
Without panicking, I said to Ed, Christy, Ana: “Adam! Where is Adam??” We all immediately grabbed Sacha and Samantha and split up in different directions looking for him. At first, I looked silently, holding Samantha’s hand tightly, and holding Cecilia’s head to me with my other hand. The crowd looked dizzying to me, it looked like people were swirling around me, and no little kids seemed to be anywhere around, no one small like Adam anyhow, at that moment. I stayed calm at first, and then seeing the hundreds of people around us, within probably a minute of scouring our immediate area, I started yelling. “ADAM!!!!!!!! ADAM!!!!!!!” By the 2nd Adam my voice cracked and I was crying and screaming. I yelled to Ed to get ahold of a cop to report something over the loudspeaker (consider what was going through my mind: HUGE location, many water obstacles everywhere, tons of random people, roads to the street....oh my God. Add to the fact that my own brother was kidnapped when he was EXACTLY Adam’s age, and you can see my mind exploding at that very second---more on that story some other time, my brother is fine now, fyi).
I ran to the DCF tent and told everyone that was sitting, recovering, there- “MY TWO YEAR OLD!!! HE IS MISSING!! HELP US LOOK FOR HIM!!!” Everyone jumped up immediately and started looking around, seeing what they could do.
At that very moment, Ana came over with Adam in her arms...she had started running in the opposite direction that I had...and she found him, probably 200 feet away, kneeling down checking out some sticks and leaves under a tree. He had been heading in the direction of the start of the whole race- God only knows how far he could have gone/where he would have gone, where we would have found him if we waited more than another minute.
I have never been so grateful to anyone in my life, as I was at that moment to Ana. I grabbed him from her, and sobbing, hugged and kissed his innocent blond head. He had no idea he had even been lost, had no idea why I was crying. My heart was in my throat for at least an hour after that, and I felt like crying most of that day. At the moment when I did not find him instantly (after a minute of looking, when you assume you’ll find him a few feet away) I started praying to God in my head (or maybe out loud, I don’t remember) and making deals with him (please, please, please, I will never complain about anything ever again. I will go to church every sunday. I will do ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!) and I don’t remember ever feeling such an insane primal feeling of despair and FEAR. I don’t know if he was gone for 3 minutes, or 10 minutes, time froze right there, and every second that I could not find him felt like a year. The concept of losing my baby and not knowing where he could be was the scariest thing that I have ever experienced.
Why am I sharing this? For me...that experience alone has made the everyday, the craziness, the screaming, the tantrums, the juggle....all OK. Because they are HERE. I know where they are. They are safe, and even if they are upset, they are healthy, and alive, and here for me to love them. That day put it all into perspective for me. It made me realize that I need a baby leash if I go anywhere more crowded than the supermarket, and it also made me see that you can survive ANYthing, anything is tolerable, when you are faced with the possibility, even for a split second, of losing one of your children.
So when they are screaming, or refusing to eat dinner, or jumping on the bed when I am trying to read at bedtime, I remember to remind myself: Take a deep breath...and be thankful.
Our family right after Ed finished the race.
Adam, my sweet boy, waiting to see his Dad run> by.
