It’s almost impossible to imagine what it’s like to be a father before you become one. There’s an obvious understanding that it is a large responsibility. There’s even a sense of some type of stored up wisdom gathered over the years to be passed down. The role of being the rock, the hammer, the fixer, the teacher, and the source of reassurance all in one. It’s easy to assume that all these things happen innately once the first child comes.
Having four boys born in five years, I field a lot of questions about little boy hair. How do we wash it? How do we style it? How do we deal with haircuts?
Our family is going through a difficult time right now. Hah. Understatement of the century! I’m not ready to talk about that just yet, though. I’ve buried myself in work as a welcome distraction. There’s zero logic in anything going on in our world, but there’s logic in my response to it. I need to provide stability for my family. I need to be strong for my boys. The irony is not lost on me. Women, stereotypically, are not the workaholics. Women, stereotypically, are not the logical ones. But then, nothing about our family really is stereotypical.
I’ve heard people say, “Before I had kids, I was the BEST parent on the planet.” It’s funny how that works, isn’t it? We all have the greatest intentions, and then life gets in the way. When I was pregnant with my first, I bought small-batch homemade lotion from a local boutique and stocked up on cloth diapers. Then kids came along, and we basically just tried to survive. Things got…cluttered. And confusing. I felt like I was drowning under the weight of it all and I just wanted to go back to a life that was simple.
What do you do when your wife is hurting? When she wants to say something but cannot find the words and doesn’t want to make a spectacle of how she truly feels and what emotionally eviscerates her? When she feels alone and cut off but desperately wants to reach out at the same time?
You do your best to do it for her.
I know what you’re thinking right now. “Woah, Chelsea, that is like a metric ton of toilet paper.” Indeed. People often ask how we juggle travel and home life with a big family. We’ve shared a ton of tips and tricks, but this is BY FAR the most important. The home stockpile.
I was the first of my friends to have kids. I’ve been blessed to develop an incredibly large and supportive group of fellow moms since then, but I’ll never forget those isolating initial weeks. It was me, a baby, and absolutely NO CLUE what I was doing. I ended up leaning on two women in particular during those early days of motherhood when I needed a gut check, a hand, or just an ear to listen when the little guy refused to sleep at 3am. Nate’s mom and grandma (Oma and Nana) were the original members of my mom tribe, and I try to find ways to thank them every year around Mother’s Day.
When I was a kid, my grandma would give the whole family a new set of matching pajamas every holiday. We’d all get decked out in our footies or silk top-and-bottoms (it changed every year depending on her mood) and take the obligatory photo. I LOVED THIS TRADITION. I loved it so much, in fact, that I’ve continued it with my own family, getting new matching pajamas every single season and insisting that we all wear them on vacation.
We’ve gotten a lot of questions about our truck and child safety. Friends have questioned if it’s even possible to fit six people in a crew cab without putting someone at risk. It seems to be a long-standing belief that trucks aren’t family cars and therefore can’t properly handle car seats. I’m proud to say that our truck gets the highest crash test ratings in its class, but I’ll admit it’s not without its issues. As a one-ton vehicle created more for hauling gear than for hauling people, there are certain comfort and ease-of-use features that are missing. That said, it IS possible to safely and securely install a car seat in a truck.
I feel like the picture at the top of this post pretty much sums up summer for me. I haven’t had a pedicure in at least two months. The sun is absurdly bright and everything’s a bit over-exposed. There are rogue blades of dry grass popping up out of the cracks in the cement around my swimming pool. But I have my summer shoes and I’m ready to take on the world!