Since I’m on Vacation, Inventing a Title for This Totally Disjointed, Random, Blogkeeping Post Seems Like Extraordinarily Hard Work and So I’ve Decided Not to Title It at All

This isn’t a real blog post. This is a blog-keeping post. So if this is your first visit here, go here or here or here or here. You’ll be happier, I swear. Unless you don’t like reading about pee or penises or imperfect parenthood. Then you won’t be happier and you should probably get out now. Like, RUN as fast and as far from this place as you can because happiness is not possible for you here, and it was very nice knowing you but GO, NOW and SAVE YOURSELF.

OK?

OK.

All friends here?

RAD.

I’m away from home this week.

Let’s take a moment and pause for the miracle of this truth, please. Because Greg and I just finished a full week of Family Stomach Flu. A full week of events like Chasing a Kid With a Bucket as She Ran From the Living Room, Through the Kitchen, Down the Hall and to the Bathroom, Vomiting All the Way, But Heroically Intent on Making It to the Toilet. Resulting, of course, in making it to neither the bucket nor the toilet, but whatever; we’re big It’s the Thought That Counts people, so we’re giving her mad props anyway. PLUS, she didn’t poop her pants while she was vomiting, and that’s always worth bonus points in my book.

Now, I don’t know how many times we’ve finished up a bout of Family Illness (feel free to search by “vomit” in the search box on the right – heh heh) and by the time our house is covered in a pleasant fog of Lysol, I’ve thought, “Dear God in Heaven, I need a vacation,” but I’m going to guess it’s into the bajillions. Bajillions of wishes for post-plague vacations.

AND THIS TIME IT WORKED.

photo (82)I’m away this week in Nevada because Greg has a conference which means Greg has a hotel room which means I get to use the other 1/2 of his bed and HELLO, BLUE SKIES. And PRAISE JESUS. And HALLELUJAH! And REJOICE WITH ME for that which was lost (sleep, smelling like Not Vomit, doing whatever I want for 4 whole days) is found. The kids are happily mucking up the grandparents’ lives, and I? I am sitting on my butt in a hotel room.

Truth is, I always feel this strange surge of deep guilt, abiding gratitude and overwhelming satisfaction when we leave the kids with the grandparents who are excited to see them and also look glassy-eyed at the schedule and casually mention that they may need to call in a full army of reinforcements. Five kids is a lot of kids, after all, and, well, it’s kind of excruciating and fabulous when others get to experience the fullness of the madness and the magic… heavy on the madness.

I am so, SO glad our kids are now old enough that this Leaving Them is possible. And I’m so, SO glad we have family willing to take them because it’s not lost on me that not everyone is so blessed. But my secret is, I’m also so, SO grateful for the Wild Panic in the grandparents’ voices as they clarify our plans to return, and as they do NOT think our jokes that we’re running away to Mexico are funny, because their abject fear reminds me that Oh, yeah! We DO do ALL THE THINGS for these tiny monsters and angels ALL THE TIME, and that is a LOT to handle. And a LOT to plan. And a LOT to remember. Which means it’s OK that we’re tired and happy and unhappy and in love with them all and a teensy, tiny bit totally DONE, sometimes all in the same minute.

So HOORAY! VACATION.

Which brings me to the blogkeeping portion of this post.

1. I don’t know whether I’ll be posting this week or not because I’m not on a schedule. Anything could happen! A lot of posts. None. It’s anyone’s guess, really. Isn’t this fun??

2. We’re in the middle of a major blog redesign which will happen over the next month. Changes are coming soon to a blog near you which should impact you in only the most minor ways. Not to worry, though, the content of the blog will remain as erratic and unpredictable as ever, and you should still plan to wear your shoes here because who knows what you may step in? All the madness, magic and mess, is what I’m saying, in a more readable format.

3. As part of the redesign, I’ll be making text-based and small image-based ad space available to you, especially those of you who’d like to advertise your own blogs or businesses, because I’d rather you benefit from this space than corporations (which is what’s currently happening with Google ads). These will be in a column alongside the blog content so as to be visible but unobtrusive to readers. I’m committed first and foremost to the reader experience. I still will not have sponsored posts because, even though that’s a GREAT way to make money, and, quite frankly, my family could use it, I don’t want to write to sell you things. I’m just fine with other bloggers doing that, but I haven’t figured out how to do it and be authentic, so you’re stuck with me as is. If you are interested in ad space, though, and want to debut your ad with the site redesign, please feel free to email me at FiveKidsIsALotOfKids@gmail.com with Ad Query in the subject line so I can get back to you with site stats, prices, and answers to any questions you may have.

As always, please let me know if you have questions, comments, or concerns. This is especially important to me as we make these changes, as I see this as OUR space.

And THANK YOU, friends, for making the Five Kids blog what it is — a place we can be open, honest and welcome all comers. I love you for it. I do.

Beth

 

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2 responses to “Since I’m on Vacation, Inventing a Title for This Totally Disjointed, Random, Blogkeeping Post Seems Like Extraordinarily Hard Work and So I’ve Decided Not to Title It at All”

  1. Congratulations on the vacation! You certainly earned it. Your ability to cope and then laugh about this just amazes me. I can deal with many things with my many kids (6), but not this – I would break down a door trying to get out of the house in a panicked state (I just about did that once) just trying to calm down and breathe 🙂 When a child comes at me pale or wide eyed and unable to explain what their problem is I am know for shoving buckets at them first and then asking questions.

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