Four under . . .

When Will and Helen were born, we had four kids under the age of four. Pretty impressive, huh? That's the type of thing that physically can't be done when you only have one kid at a time. When people heard we had four kids under four, they were duly impressed. Saying that you have four kids, and that the oldest one(s) just turned 3, automatically takes you to Superparent status, just by virtue of the fact that you did it and survived.

Then a year passed, then another. Now we have four children under the age of . . . six. It just doesn't have the same ring to it. Sure, it's more than most people. But other people--even people who have one kid at a time--do it. And here's the kicker, as they all get older, it all gets harder. But you don't get as much credit for it.

Then the other day I read an article written by an allegedly "busy mom." She explained that she had four children under the age of twelve. Seriously? How many of those kids can bathe themselves, dress themselves, tie their own shoes, and wipe their own butts? I'm betting she's got a majority, at least, for all of the above. I have a majority for none.

I know that four older kids with different activities makes for a busy life. And I'm sure I'll be there soon enough and will be lamenting how hard it is. But really, "busy" does not describe our lives right now. "Complete and utter chaos" is the only thing that comes close.

So Cort and I decided something the other day, after another crazy, chaotic evening. It's still pretty impressive that we have four kids within a span of three years and two months. And that we have kept some semblance of sanity. So, we are going with the Superparent title after all, whether anyone else thinks so or not.

So there.