Dragging

Summer of 2018 is dragging itself to a close and I, for one, could not be more ready.

We definitely have had a lazy summer this year. Asher had two weeks of Threshold and a week of AISD technology camp, all of which he enjoyed, and the littles had 7 weeks of one day a week MDO and Elijah had two days of art camp at the Grace, which they all enjoyed. All told, the longest amount of time I had to myself during the day for any appointments or just breathing room was maybe 2-3 hours three times, and it was always on a Wednesday when the house was cleaned. So basically never.

There are some women who are just meant to be moms. They're great with kids, they come up with interesting and fun activities for their children, they keep art supplies on hand. They're not overwhelmed by the prospect of taking a car full of children anywhere. Those moms are fantastic. I'm not one of them. I don't like taking my kids to the grocery store. So we stayed home and did a lot of nothing all summer.

I don't regret that. They will have years and years of constant activity once they're adults. It'll start before that, I'm sure, as summer jobs become a thing, as they get interested in activities that require their attention in the summer, as they get more friends and more independence. I call myself a free range parent and this summer, they were free to range this big, new house we've got. Did we have lots of screen time? Yes. Did we also play in the water and have movie/pizza nights on a regular basis and go see movies in theaters? Also yes. We did educational stuff and art stuff and semi-athletic stuff and it was all great. I hope the kids will tell teachers this fall they had a good summer. And if not, they've all got tons more ahead of them.

I've been helping the boys' new school get set up and organized, since they had tubs and tubs of art supplies that needed organizing. I spent hours at the school sorting and throwing away and putting in containers. It was hot sweaty work but also kind of nice because I got to be alone for it.

We couldn't really afford to take a vacation this year because of the move, and we are ok with that. It's been a priority to me that we at least take some time to be together as a family every year, so this year we planned it for what we thought would be the last week of summer before school started. Then the first day of school got pushed back a few days so it was the second to last week. We didn't even consider changing, because why would we, and that turned out to be a huge thing.

We started our "staycation" with a murder mystery party for the adults and a babysitter for the kids. The next day we rented an inflatable water slide for a few hours and invited our friends to come play. That was tons of fun until the bees showed up. Luckily, no one buy Austin got stung, and he only got stung once. Rain kind of pooh-poohed our activities for Sunday and Monday, but Tuesday we went to the zoo, Wednesday was the "new" water park, Adventure Cove, Thursday was the trampoline park, and Friday was the new splash pad at Sears Park. Saturday we capped it all off with a movie at the Paramount and a birthday party at the Grace. One big activity a day, one meal out a day, lots of downtime to hang out with each other. That seems to be the perfect recipe for a Mullins Family Vacation.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine went into the hospital for pregnancy complications. I won't go into details, because it's not my story to share, but she was there for two and a half weeks. I went several evenings and just sat and kept her company, working on my "travel" cross-stitch while we chatted with HGTV in the background. She was cleared to go home the Monday of our staycation, which I was thrilled for her and also pleased that our staycation could proceed for just us. I absolutely will be there for my friends when they need me, but I was looking forward to time with my family, too.

Then Thursday I got a heartbreaking text. I was stunned as I drove up to the hospital to sit and wait, hoping against hope that I'd read it wrong, that this was some kind of horrible, sick joke. And it wasn't. Baby Colt had been delivered early in an attempt to save his life and hadn't made it.

Because Austin was already home and off the next two days, I was able to be there in the hospital with her, holding and loving on that sweet, perfect baby. I cried with her, snuggled him, kissed his sweet head, and grieved for this child who everyone fought so hard for. I was there most of Thursday, leaving for a little while so Austin could take the bigs to the trampoline park they'd been promised. And I went back Friday at some point (I really can't remember when I was there, I think afternoon/early evening?) though we did take the kids to the splash pad and had dinner at home. It all blurs together after a while. I took her clothes to wear home on Saturday and walked with her to her car, pushing the cart of her belongings and fighting not to cry as we walked out without a baby. I held it together until we walked away from the entrance of the hospital and then I broke down. I may have startled some people walking past me.

I'm not even going to pretend that I understand what she's going through. I lost my dad, yes, but he was nearly 65. He had lived a full life. I feel like he was way too young, but he at least lived. Colt never got that chance. Its different grieving for a life not lived.

This pain will be part of her for the rest of her life. In a much much lesser way, it will mine, too. We had so many plans for this sweet boy. I was going to keep him a few hours a week while she worked until he was old enough for MDO, and I was looking forward to that. I absolutely am done expanding my family, but that doesn't mean I don't love holding new babies and snuggling their sweet necks and kissing their downy heads. We were talking about where different baby things were going to be, how long he'd be here, what days I'd have him.

I've been sitting with her some evenings since she went home because none of us want her to be alone, and she doesn't really, either. Sometimes she's on the phone and I pull mine out and read either a book or articles online or scroll through facebook. After the last couple of weeks where my kids have made choices that may have resulted in them being sold for magic beans, it was nice to be somewhere quiet where nothing was getting broken and no one was tattling or peeing on the floor.

I've still got the last little bit of organizing to do, and school is starting Monday so we're trying to get to a school schedule around here, and Rebekah is at the age where she likes to check in on me periodically to make sure I haven't vanished, so the days are hard sometimes, but the evenings are for her for as long as she needs me. This is a horrific season of her life and if I can be there, I will. My kids have their dad around to keep things running around here, doling out discipline as needed, playing with them, keeping them alive. She has empty arms.

I'm not trying to make myself out to be some amazing friend or person. I debated even writing much about her. But if you see me in the next few days or weeks and I seem tired or sad or I start crying randomly, this is why. I'm missing a sweet perfect baby with the best head of hair I've ever seen on a baby and I'm aching for my friend. I hate that this happened and I hate that I can't fix it and I hate this reality.

Jesus, fix it.