Sooooo, it’s been an obscene amount of time since my last post. But, quite honestly, it’s been an obscenely difficult stretch in our household. Again — Mae’s health.

Long story short, the kid had 5 ear infections in two months. FIVE! She had about five healthy, antibiotic-free days in two months. I kid you not. Doctors say that kids are candidates for tubes if they’ve had three infections in four months (I think). Uh, yeah. I got yer candidate right here.

So, yesterday, she got tubes and it’s like we have a different kid at home already!  She ate more yesterday AFTER surgery than she typically does in two full days. So, hopefully, she is on the mend.

I should say, hopefully we are ALL on the mend. Because, as any mother knows, if you have a sick kid, it throws everything off. We’ve had a sick kid for two months straight. Some of the repercussions of that reality include: sleep deprivation, inability to take her to daycare, less time for me to work, less money, financial stress, higher medical bills, concern concern concern over her health, constant vigilance for her pain, a pharmacy in our kitchen, inability to do anything on the weekends because she’s always sick or will get sick, annoyed big sisters, worn out parents…

We feel like we’ve been staring at our feet for two months straight, willing them to keep moving slowly forward.

And the irony (or perhaps my karma coming back to git me) is that Delaney and Allie never had a single ear infection between them. So, of course, I was one of those moms who 1) didn’t understand and appreciate the HELL of ear infections and 2) felt a little snobby about my kids’ relative health. Uh, yeah. I guess I got mine, eh?

So, Mae already appears to be turning a corner and I’m like a horse out of a chute! I’m so excited to spend time with her when she’s giggly and attentive and pain-free! Today, we’re going to read books, dance, roll around on the floor, build stuff just to knock it down and, of course, go to Target for the hell of it.

YAY!

For the last few weeks, I’ve been in what I call my “clean sheet” mood. All I need to make me happy these days is clean sheets and a good book.

I love this state-of-mind because it’s all about life’s simple pleasures. Mae’s giggles, Delaney’s budding enthusiasm for her singing voice, Allie’s complete transformation around grasshoppers, a good meal on the table, Dave’s silly sense of humor.

Sometimes — too often — I get wrapped up in the things that would make life “easier.” More money, more time, less laundry, a maid… but when I hit the Clean Sheet mood, I know I’ve got everything I need.

I changed the sheets this morning and all I’ve been able to think is, “I get to crawl into clean sheets tonight!” When happiness comes that easily, you know that the rest of life is darned good.

It’s no coincidence that fall is in the air and my soul is more content. I love the change, the muffling of summer’s busy ways, the anticipation of longer nights and less yard work. More popcorn and family movie nights!

There’s a line in a Sheryl Crow song that goes, “It’s not getting what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got.”

Today, I’m wanting what I’ve got.

When I was pregnant, I had a couple of friends tell me, “The third baby is the BEST baby!” I was so excited to learn what they meant!

After Mae came along, I found myself thinking, “This is the ‘best?’” This is motherfreakin’ HARD!  Now, of course, we all know that Mae’s start was very hard due to her heart surgery, but even after the worst was behind us and I could “just” be a normal mom to three somewhat normal kids, I struggled.

Probably the hardest part has been dividing myself up into another chunk so that I can have a relationship with yet another family member. I find that I’m simply not able to meet all their needs (husband, three girls, dog…) consistently. But that’s fodder for another blog.

What I want to write about is that it now does, truly, feel beautiful and I know what my friends meant. I think I had to get past the newborn slog and turn the 6-month corner.  And now, yes, this is the BEST baby!  Not that Mae is, per se, a better baby (geez, she’s already taken me to hell and back). But the third baby is the BEST!  Because I’m more confident. I don’t worry about the stupid little things that used to panic me. Examples…

I don’t pack for every possibility when I leave the house with Mae. We have a diaper and a bottle and we’re set. No extra clothes (I love naked babies so if she makes a monster mess, she goes naked); no extra toys (there’s always something laying around that she can play with – aka, a spatula)… I laugh at all the crap I used to haul around with Delaney.

If she sleeps longer than normal, I don’t wake up in a panic. I revel in it.  No, I don’t go check on her.

I play more!  I know that the laundry will be there tomorrow and next year, even. Mae is just learning to giggle an awesome, gut-busting giggle. Who wants to miss that?

I don’t think she’s going to poison herself if i turn my back.

I don’t know how many baths I gave her last week (I was a nut about Delaney’s “bath time”) and we don’t have a “bedtime routine” yet. No schedule at all, really. We just go with the flow.

And finally (drumroll, please) I still haven’t cracked a parenting book. Yes, I have forgotten EVERYTHING about Delaney and Allie’s baby-hood, but I also know there are a million ways to do it “right” and really only a couple of ways to do it “wrong” so the odds are in my favor.

So, yes, Mae was a surprise and I spent a lot of time fretting about how hard life would be — for good reasons. But I had no idea how much FUN it would be.

I’m so glad I got the chance to find out!

Over the last couple of years, from time to time, Dave and I have lamented the fact that we “can’t” give our kids the freedom we had as kids. We wax on romantically about how we left our homes in the morning only to return for lunch or dinner. My mom’s only expectation was that we’d play outside (not in someone’s home) where we could hear the coach’s whistle she’d blow when it was time to come home. Dave spent hours upon hours digging fox holes in the dirt behind his home (it’s now a park).

So, imagine my glee when a friend told me about a new book called, “Free-Range Kids” by Lenore Skenazy. I don’t want to go into her background because it is well-documented online, where you can probably find her by typing, “America’s Worst Mom.” Yes, I was excited to read a book by a woman who has been labeled America’s Worst Mom. Look her up to find out why.

Anyway, not only is “Free-Range Kids” liberating, it is hilarious!  I devoured the book like a kid who has been given free-range to eat all of her Halloween candy without mom inspecting it first – something else that Skenazy recommends.

Simply put, Skenazy proves that, not only is the world not a scarier place than it was when we were kids, it’s actually safer. And we should give our kids the freedom to discover it now before we turn them into paranoid little worry-warts.

So, I did it. I’m doing it. I’m giving Delaney and Allie more freedom. And here’s the best part: they are so proud of themselves!

Case in point: Their aunt, Dave’s sister, lives three blocks away. She asked the girls to water her plants and feed her cat while she was on a short vacation. Instead of walking down there with them, I let them go by themselves! They take the apartment key, let themselves into the building, let themselves into Andie’s apartment, water the plants, lock up when they’re done, and come home. And when they walk in the door from this trek into the wilderness, they are BEAMING!

All the things that used to frighten me (child abduction, crossing streets, random acts of evil) seem not only odd to me now, but silly. (I’m not going to go into the statistics as to why I feel this freedom because Skanazy does. Read her book!) I can only say that I am entirely confident in my kids.

I know that I have taught them all the fundamental skills to be safe; I’ve just never let them test out those skills to this degree before. Truly, they have earned the right to this freedom.

I could go on and on about the many positive repercussions of this seemingly small release of the reigns that I hold on my kids, but I’ll save that for another time. Today, I just had to share how proud I am of myself and of my kids. This feels so much more nurturing and loving than keeping constant control of them ever did.

I don’t know why, but for a couple of weeks now, I’ve been focusing too much on the things that make my life difficult rather than on the things that are just absolutely perfect, which is really most of my life. I’ve been focusing on “lack.”  Of money, of time, of emotional capacity, of muscle tone…

Then the Universe brought my friend Lori Ware to town.  Lori has a lot of difficulties that she could focus on. Well, actually, there’s one difficulty that she could use endlessly to remind people of how hard her life is.  Her son, Seph, who is 8 years old, has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. And, to be quite blunt, if scientists don’t find a cure soon, Seph will one day be in a wheelchair and, much too soon, he will die.

I hate writing that sentence. It makes me sick to my stomach.  And it is Lori’s everyday reality.

The Ware family — Lori, Seph, sisters Mallori and Hannah (dad Joe couldn’t make it) — were in town for a PPMD conference. Parent Project Muscular Dystrophy advocates for kids like Seph. It was founded by an extraordinary woman named Pat Furlong, who lost BOTH of her sons to Duchenne.  Can you even imagine?  I know a lot more about Pat’s story, too, and maybe I will share that with you, as well, sometime soon.

But back to Lori.  I met her downtown, Mae in tow, to attend some of the conference sessions with her but, really, just to be with her.  She is a force of nature… with a cute southern accent.  Lori introduced me to other parents facing exactly what she is facing with Seph. Every time I looked one of them in the eyes, I wanted to hug them. I wanted to ask them about the moment – that one, awful, life-changing moment – when they learned their son (or in some cases, sons) had Duchenne and that he could die of the disease. (Lori’s doctor told her, “Take Seph home and love him; he’ll be dead by the time he’s 18.” She found another doctor.)

I thought about that moment. No parent should ever, ever have to face a moment like that. I had one awful moment with Mae when I was forced to my knees and I feared for her life.  My awful moment was brief. Theirs will never end.

And so, I followed Lori around like one of the service dogs that many of the boys had. I lapped up her energy, I wagged my tail at her smiles. I met boys and moms and dads who talked about the same things I find myself talking about: the next meal, naps, grade point averages. But they also talk about clinical studies, heart attacks at the age of 8, and whether their boys will ever have the chance to fall in love.

By the end of the day, Mae and I were both whooped, but I was rejuvenated. I was on an energy spree. Not because I was able to recognize how good my own life is (that, too) but because Lori focuses on blessings, not on “lack.” She sees blessings in her life – Seph is still walking. His doctors are amazed at his strength and flexibility. And she was VERY focused on driving to the top of Mt. Evans the next day because it’s one of her favorite places on the planet.

There is no “lack” in Lori’s life. Nor in mine.

My dear Lori, yet again, I learn from you and I “gain” from you. Thank you… Give Seph a big ‘ol smooch for me!