Life as a Party of Five

The bags are unpacked and laundry washed (although who knows when it will be folded and put away), so I suppose you could say we're officially settling back in at home from a week at Myrtle Beach with the Holbrook side of the family.

In the nearly nine months since Nora was born the changes in our lives and household have been significant. First, the house. Oh my, this is a source of physical distress for one as OCD as myself. Yes, the aforementioned laundry is clean and dry, but were it not for the advent of machinery to accomplish said tasks we'd be wearing dirty clothes indefinitely. The house is cluttered with brightly-colored plastic whatnot as far as the eye can see. And, unfortunately, most of it is broken. Dust bunnies roll like tumbleweed across the hardwood floor, which may or may not get its monthly mopping next week. The breakfast dishes are still in the sink. I know that's not a big deal to most of you, but again, I have a visceral reaction to disarray in my home - I literally have trouble functioning in clutter. I finally got around to hemming a pair of pants for my husband just before we left for vacation - a request he had put in some three months earlier. And when I say "hem" I'm not talking about actual needle and thread. I'm talking about the bonding strips you pass over with an iron to essentially glue the fabric together. Whatever. If a lack of parity makes him feel any better, a button to a pair of my own pants has been sitting on our bathroom counter just as long, and I wear the pants regardless. Don't care. Maybe if the bonding strips worked on buttons I'd get that done, too. Hmm. Crazy Glue?

Physically, I must be a completely different lady. I've always been a morning person, not so much in demeanor but certainly in productivity. Even after my second child was born, I would bound out of bed at 6 a.m., and by the time my crew came down the steps to start their days I would have done my Bible study, eaten breakfast, exercised and showered. Maybe even a chore accomplished, thanks to at least a couple of cups of coffee. Nora's arrival ushered in a new day, one that still may begin before the sun rises, but consider it a false start because as soon as Adam is served his toaster waffle you can count on this momma going back to bed. My eyes pop open to the shock of the clock claiming it's already 8:30 a.m., as my husband manages two fighting preschoolers and crying baby who wants her second breakfast, thank you very much. We still enforce a daily room time, not so much because my preschoolers need a nap but because I do. In fact, I cannot remember going through a day without needing to at least be horizontal for an hour. If being perpetually tired isn't enough, get this - I've had a back ache for the last eight months. And I think the beach trip may have been the nail in my lumbar's coffin. My lower back was sore from the physical awkwardness of lifting a 16-pound baby in and out of a playpen, but 10 or 12 hours in the car on the way home elevated soreness to pain. All this to say I'm getting old, folks.

Couple the number of little people in our house with the broke down lady running it, it's no wonder I can't get everything done - and no wonder this is the first action this blog has seen since Christmas.

But that's not to say there isn't a whole lot of wonderful that has come with increasing our family size. In fact, wonderful is the bulk of it. Katie and Adam are learning new things seemingly every day, and Nora is just so cute I can't stand it. Being at the beach with them may mean a working vacation, but it's so worth it to watch them enjoy themselves and experience new things. Incidentally, I got a big chuckle out of Adam when we got home. Katie was recounting all the things she had done at the beach to her babysitter, and when she mentioned playing in a hot tub, Adam grinned, looked up at me and chanted a la Eddie Murphy/James Brown, "Hot tub! Rub-a-dub!" That's right, of all the knowledge Aaron and I could be passing down to our children, what they parrot back is our collective Saturday Night Live memories.



While the rest of the family enjoys what's prepared on the hibachi table, Adam uses his chopsticks to eat peanut butter crackers.

The first time Nora's feet were in sand. Meh. She was on the beach for maybe 20 minutes before falling asleep in Pappy's arms. Still, Momma's happy we documented the occasion.



Aaron thought it would be great fun to treat the kids to Pirate Voyage, a dinner show similar to Medieval Times or Dixie Stampede. My parents, grandmother and uncle came as well, while my aunt stayed behind with Nora. We figured there would be loud noises from firing cannons, so Nora wouldn't do well. Little did we know that it was our eldest child who would revolt. The minute we walked into the building, Katie spied someone in pirate garb, frowned and seemed determined to spend the next 90 minutes in misery. The fire-breathing man, sea lions, mermaids - all left her nonplussed and her roughly $30 meal untouched. Katie didn't see a good deal of the show, being that her head was in my lap. Oh well, 75 percent of the Johnson clan enjoyed it!

We split the trip home into two days, driving as far as my aching back and Aaron's aching ears could stand being in the car with three little kids. We stopped for the night in Caryville, Tenn. and checked into a Hampton Inn overlooking Cove Lake, an unexpected bonus. It really was a beautiful view. By then, of course, our kids were half crazy with energy stored up from the car ride, which made it a little difficult to fully appreciate the orange glow of the sun sinking behind the mountains. But at least we have pictures. Sort of.



Not your best smile, pal.

Katie couldn't get her sillies out.

I'm learning in more real ways than ever that life is messy. We can scramble around trying to make it look like a Norman Rockwell painting all we want, but at the end of the day we're just frustrated and may have missed out on the beauty. I know this in my head, but it's going to be quite a process for me to slip into full whatever mode. I'll get there.