The younger kids are sleeping and Elijah is at school.
I'm truly alone for the first time in several months (because any woman who's ever been pregnant knows that you're never alone when you're carrying a child in your womb).
It's weird, this quiet that envelops the house. The only sound is the thumping of the washing machine, our fish tank, and the occasional squeaks from our new baby sleeping in his bouncy chair.
Oh wait... I'm not really alone, am I? Whatever, it's quiet and that's something.
I just found out that Elijah's school is cancelled tomorrow because of windchill, which means I will have a seven-year-old with special needs, a two-year-old who's trying to figure out how he fits in this new family, and a newborn to care for on my own. Three kids. How in the world are we going to survive?
Andy is working from home (in our basement), so if the kids try to kill me he will hear and come to my rescue. At least I hope so.
Andy helps me with lunch (oh how thankful I am for that man).
In the afternoon, Oliver naps and Theo is snuggled to my chest in his baby carrier. I ask Elijah if he wants to help me do laundry. He shakes his head no. I ask if he wants to do the dishes and he emphatically shakes his entire body in a head nod. I gleam with pride as that was an obvious yes and no, something that doesn't always happen with Elijah accurately.
We do the dishes.
And then... (sorry Elijah) the laundry.
There are two baskets of laundry to be folded, more that needs to be washed, and I have no idea what we're going to eat for supper.
But, there's quiet in my house again. Oliver is napping, Elijah is at school and a fussy Theo is finally asleep on my chest. The snow is falling gently out my window and I'm pretty sure I have the best life ever.
After Elijah comes home from school, Elijah (with the help of his PCA - personal care assistant) and Oliver sit at the table and finger paint. I hold Theo and squeeze paint onto Oliver's plate.
"This dolphin. This fish. This dog," Oliver says to me, pointing out globs of paint on his paper. Elijah grabs his paint globs and tries to throw them on the floor. His smile gleams under the paint on his face.
Oliver is sitting in my lap while I fold laundry. It's become ever so apparent that he's feeling insecure about his lost status of littlest in the family. Still, he's really grown into his big brother role. He tells me to help Theo when he cries, gives the baby kisses all the time, and puts his hand on his baby brother's cheek and whispers, "sweetie pie."
I finish writing this while my youngest two boys sleep and try not to feel guilty for not doing other things.
This is our new normal. Apparently our life revolves around laundry.
We're outnumbered now and it's exhausting. I feel like we're running in circles just to keep afloat. It's also completely and totally awesome.
Now I'm off...to fold a basket of laundry.