The truth about motherhood, revealed

Sweet reader Gretchen asked me via email recently what it's like to have four kids, since I hadn't really written about it yet. At first, I was like, "WHAT? I write about it every day!" But then I realized, I probably really don't.

I forget that you guys aren't privy to my every spoken word ... perhaps fortunately for you, you don't have to listen to me prattle on and on about whatever happened between 6 and 8 a.m. every day, like poor Lisa does.

So when I get my act together a little more and have had some time to think about it, I'll write a post about how Amelia fits in, how we've changed to accommodate her needs, how life is different with four. But I don't want you to expect it to be a groundbreaking post ... I imagine it's very much like your families' lives, with one, two, three kids. I'm sure we feel many of the same things, every day, you and I.

For example, my emotions run the gamut on a typical Saturday when I’m at home with the kids:

• Pride – that they’re self-sufficient enough to get their own breakfasts and entertain themselves until Grayson gets up
• Empathy – when Nick doubles over in pain the first time he stubs his toe on an obstacle in the floor
• Frustration – when I realize that it was a wooden block Nick left there on which he stubbed his toe
• Joy – when Amelia grabs a rubber ring toy and holds it for the first time in her tiny little grasp
• Anger – when I step on the same blessed wooden block that’s STILL in the middle of the floor
• Happiness – when we all head outside to enjoy a beautiful afternoon on the trampoline
• Exhaustion – when I realize it’s only lunchtime and we have hours to go before we sleep
• Satisfaction – that I’ve managed to clear the kitchen sink and counters after lunch, even if they only stay clean for an hour
• Contentment – as I lie on the couch with all the kids piled around me, mildly stinky, winding down with a movie

• Boredom – when I realize that this kids’ movie is REALLY terrible
• Excitement – when Nick asks me for a snack and my mind races with the yummy possibilities
• Blinding rage – when I step on that DAMN block again as I head to the kitchen

• Sadness – when I see the looks on the kids’ faces after losing my ever-loving sh** on them about that block
• Relief – when it’s the kids’ bedtime
• Elation – as I click out of KidZone on TiVo and settle in for a couple of hours of my favorite therapy: All My Shows

• Amusement – when I hear the pitter-patter of Jake’s feet coming downstairs for the third time to give Amelia yet another hug and kiss goodnight … at 10:30
• Bliss – as I watch Amelia's chest rise and fall while she sleeps while I watch Bachelor Ben make All The Wrong Decisions. For. The. LOVE.

• Tenderness – when I go up to bed at midnight and see that Nathaniel fell asleep reading, book open on his chest, and Nick, asleep and sweaty-headed, tangled up in his sheets, three blankets and quilt
• Peace – as I fall into bed, so ready for the sweet, sweet embrace of slumber
• Anticipation – of what the next morning with the kids will bring

No wonder it’s so freaking exhausting being a mom … and why it’s simultaneously so incredibly wonderful. And I hope that if you read my words regularly, and feel a kinship with me, many of you feel the same way.