getting here

"How do you keep it together all the time?" she asked, while musing through my naturally-wavy unruliness. I sat in front of my new hairdresser, a mama to one of Obi-2's classmates, who also has a new baby about Obi-3's age. She wasn't talking about my locks.

"What?!" I couldn't imagine that anyone, especially somebody who saw me on a daily basis, would think I have it together. Some days, it is nothing short of divine intervention to make sure I have all three boys with me as we head out the door! As I sat and enjoyed a new haircut, my new friend and I conversed about motherhood, appearances, faith, and fashion. In the weeks since that conversation, her words (and impression) have lingered in my mind.

Today was Obi-1's first day of first grade. Yes. In January. It is a commencement, of sorts... the end of weeks since we were told (at his kindergarten conferences) that his teacher, the principal, and many other teachers strongly recommend he move up a grade. The beginning of a new chapter in life. We could have waited until summer, but they were certain he should jump at least a grade to be more challenged in school. Our beloved kindergarten teacher was willing to keep doing special projects with him, but really thought it would be wiser to move him mid-year. In the days that followed that conversation, Mr. Kenobi and I would weigh the pros and cons of the decision, re-think all of our beliefs about children being young or old in their class, and sit in wonder at the maturity and reason coming from our 6-year-old.

Most of our process had to be kept in the family, as our beloved and trusted friends were affected by this decision. See, our dear friends are parents to Obi-1's good friends, like Miss A and Lil' Joe, who sit next to him in kindergarten. Making a move from this class meant making a move out of some common dreams for us parents. The choice may be wise, but it created heartache and some difficulty in our shared relationships. Thankfully, recent weeks have helped everyone bring perspective back together.

In the meantime, Obi-2 began to read. I would have blogged about this, but his latest development came as we were sorting all of these things out, and I wasn't sure if I was actually happy to see another Obi jumping ahead of his peers. What would it mean if he was like his brother? What if he wasn't? Of course he isn't like his brother - he's a different child! Then again, there are bound to be similarities. Why couldn't I be elated, or proud, and just enjoy this moment in life? Together, it seems, I was most definitely not.

And not to be outdone, Obi-3 began an earnest effort at crawling. Covering a wide swatch of floor as he pulls elbow-over-elbow and rolls back and forth along his path, my baby is mobile. My memories went back to a playgroup in early days of parenting. Noam, my friend's son, began this sort of crawl before the rest of our children. Our reactions were mixed in delight, interest, and jealousy... all of us waiting for our own baby to hit another milestone. As Obi-1 hit developmental milestones then, I smiled and wrote them down in a book (which is stored away somewhere...) Together with other first-time mamas, I tried to keep it together and learn the ropes of parenting. As Obi-3 hits those milestones, I try to just enjoy them, but also think about getting together the child-safety items that will make our home more pleasant for Obi-3 to explore.

At one time, I was a Mama to a single baby. Then, on the day Obi-1 took his first steps, I found out we would have Obi-2. In the mix of emotions of that season, I recall grieving for Obi-1, who would no longer have his mama's full attention. In some moments, I feared he would have to grow up faster. I would have to rely on him maturing if I would be able to balance a newborn and a toddler. I grieved for Obi-2, a child who would never have his mama the way his older brother did. Of course, perhaps that was a blessing! Keeping it together got a whole lot more complicated, and I didn't do it well most of the time.

Which brings me to today. Milestones come quickly, like mile markers on a long, speedy stretch of interstate. I often pause and wonder, how in the world did I get here? How did I become the person who packs a lunch for a first-grader? Had Obi-1 been our only child, I'm sure I would have sat in the car after taking him to his new class and had a bittersweet cry in my minivan. (Of course, if Obi-1 were our only child, I likely wouldn't drive that stinkin' minivan.) As it was, I had Obi-2 and Obi-3 in my arms, and a dog who needed to be fed at home. For the sake of all of us, I needed to keep it together and stay focused on the present.

In a continuing series of moments, some covered in milky spit-up and some with more sounds of whining than cheers, mothers like me hold it together. Sometimes I savor and photograph these fleeting moments, and other times they're barely witnessed amidst the noise of a full life. Honestly, I'm rarely thinking about the impression I might make on hairdressers or strangers at the grocery store. It's often just a necessity; hold it together, or lose it.

My gym teacher used to say, "wherever you go, there you are." So here I am. A mother sending off a first-grader, encouraging my four-year-old in his reading, and celebrating the crawling awkwardness of my baby. Someday, perhaps I'll really pull it all together. In the meantime, here we go.