Babywearing Still Works

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The girls were snoring as the clock turned to 6:45. I stopped working on the (constant) project of reorganizing my office space and decided we should probably get dinner started, even though today had been a late lunch. Isla popped right up when I turned on the living room lights while Ava rubbed her eyes and pouted at me.

Arianna helped me get the girls set up with their “appetizers”, but Isla wasn’t having anything we offered her. She just weeped and weeped. As Arianna shrugged her shoulders at her littlest sister, I fought to get Ava’s legs out from under her bottom and into the high chair seat. This wasn’t going to work, middle sister just wanted to cling to her mama.

Not sure what else to do, I put my brown-eyed-girl on my hip and pulled chicken nuggets out of the freezer. We peeked into the dining room to confirm that Isla was good with chicky and that’s when things went further south than I’d expected.

The stuff hit the fan for all the kids when the tears started for Evan.

“I can’t draw my W’s, they look like N’s”, he said, throwing his blue marker across the table. Looking at the page in his 2015 summer journal, I saw no evidence of an N or a W. Just a blue circle with scribbles through it.

A nervous laugh might just have slipped from my lips.

It was at that moment that the ‘lil boy I thought was so innocent slipped a curse word in reaction to my mothering slip. I passed Ava to Arianna, pushing the bawling that commenced out of ears, and went right to Evan’s eye-level, confirming what my ears heard. While he claimed he didn’t say anything, he dug his face into the table.

“Six minutes. Upstairs. Go. No questions.” I tried to keep my cool because Isla was flinging cheese curls at my back trying to make everyone laugh. Turning around, I caught Ava’s eyes and realized I was going to be the only thing that would keep her calm.

Arianna went to get the ring sling and a smile came over Ava’s face. I slipped the nuggets in the microwave and the baby in the pocket of her comfy place. The tears came to a stop from the oldest twin while they started back up by the younger one, weeping as she begged for the chicken to be done.

As the timer for the nuggets singled both the meat and the timeout were over, I breathed a sigh of relief. The last ten minutes might have been some of the tougher ones in this motherhood journey, but they showed me just how much those four ‘lil ones need (and want) their mama.

Thank goodness babywearing still works.

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