Push Me, Pull Me

That's an awesome Pearl Jam song. Unfortunately, it's also what motherhood can do to you as anyone with more than one child can attest.

Most of the time, I think I do pretty well with my tribe. Everyone is clothed, fed, bathed and absolutely loved -- the essentials to a child. I worry, though, that although I'm careful to split a bag of M&Ms evenly, I'm not always as successful at splitting, well, ME evenly.

I truly believe that the best gift I have ever or will ever give my children is each other. I understand, though, that there might be times that they disagree.

Once upon a time, it was just Jack and me, all day everyday, while Tom was at work. Jack was my focus and it was a pleasure to give him all the love and attention I could.

Then those halcyon days ended and we entered The Era of the Sisters.

Poor, poor Jack.

Natalie has been a handful since birth, God love her. This is not an opinion, it's a fact. Jack was still a baby himself when she arrived and then suddenly, he had to be The Big Kid. Miss Natalie has come a long, LONG way in her Madamness but just as her neediness eased off, Queen B arrived. Bon is a relatively easy baby (my time in the trenches with The Madam would make any baby seem easy) but still, she's a baby and babies require lots of hands-on time.

Unlike a puppy, they can't be crated up if you need to do something. Something like a school function for one of your older children.

This Thursday morning, Jack's school is celebrating National Education Week by inviting parents to spend some time in their child's classroom and then have lunch in the cafeteria. There is no question of whether or not I will go. I have to be there. Jack would be crushed if I wasn't there. He asks for so little. Actually, he hasn't asked at all, assuming I'll come because the thought of me not being there for him is unfathomable in his mind. He doesn't know that people can and will let you down and he sure as hell won't be learning that lesson from me.

The big issue with attending for me: The Bon. Visitation is at 10:00 a.m. (prime nap time) and I have nobody to stay with her. I almost emailed his teacher to ask if Bonnie could accompany me but upon further thought, I decided I'd be better off asking for forgiveness than for permission. I'll strap her to my chest so it's not like she'll take up any room. She's not a big crier if she's being held so hopefully, she'll be quiet so Jack and I can pretend that for once, he isn't playing second fiddle to his sisters.

The school has no problem with Bonnie as my sidekick when I have volunteered there so they better not give me any shit about her coming along when I'm there simply as a parent rather than as free labor.

It's kind of annoying that parents weren't notified about this opportunity until late last week, leaving SAH parents scrambling to find child care for their other children and working parents trying to clear their schedules at the last minute.

Anyway, I'm like a sleep-deprived juggler, trying to keep my precious balls in the air. I never want to look back and think, "I wish I had done ABC for Jack/Natalie/Bonnie" and I never, ever want them to think, "I remember that time I needed Mom to do XYZ and she couldn't because of my sister/brother." All I can give them is my love and as much of my time as possible.

If only I could clone myself. How awesome would that be?

If only babies could retain memories from their earliest days so that Jack knew that once upon a time, he spent all day on my lap just like the girls. No boyfriend ever wounded my heart as deeply as my son did when he told me that he wishes he could be a baby again so that he could "get all the hugs like Bonnie." He stated it as a fact rather than a whine which somehow made it even worse.

If only I had family available to help out like so many of my friends do.

If only motherhood wasn't a minefield of love and guilt.

If only...