I am a working mother of four.  An entrepreneur and an eternal student.  In my circles, mothers of four are rare.  As people find out that I am a mother of four  I often get condolescences, chastized, called a nut, and assumed to be frazzled and unhappy, burdened by some accident. This is no “accident” as some might think.  It is not a “burden.”

My life is a labor of love. My husband is my best friend and a great complement to my abilities. We live and work with a passion for most everything we do. We both enjoy being parents. We have plenty of gripes and difficulties but we have and know love.

My house is not magazine material.  From the street you will probably hear a fair share of  chaos and drama.  I have plenty of moments when I wonder if we are doing things “right.” Is each child getting the attention they need to blossom? How are our limitations truncating the abilities of our children? I feel responsible for the choices we have made, for deviating from what I see is the norm, deviating from the expectations that were held for me.

Serendipity Strikes

Last night, I was driving home with the three older kids. As we are pulling up to our tiny house in our 8 year old focus station wagon my daughter, age 9, turns to me and says: “Mom is it ok if I have 4 kids?”

“Olaia” I said, “you can have how many kids you and your husband think are right. It may be four it may be less, it is not something you can decide on now. Would you like to have 4 kids?” “Oh yes mommy, I want to be a mommy and I like a family like ours,” she said sweetly.  Out from the back seat, Jaimito, our second child who is now 5 years old chimed: “Mami, I am going to have 5 kids. And I am going to call my first son James the Sixth and then I am going to have 2 more boys and 2 girls. The other two boys will be called James the first and James the second, because those two James are now dead and we can remember them this way.”

I was tickled by all the joyful fun talk about family. Knowing that my two older kids genuinely seemed to  like their lot in life, they liked their life so much they wanted to reproduce it.  I worry plenty about their present and future but as I walked out of the car I said to them: “Sounds like your homes are going to be a fun-loving place to be!”

My worries still remain. I think it comes with the territory of being a caring mom and striving to do the “right” thing.  But, at least for a while I soaked, bathed by the love my children showered me with, a found a serendipitous answer to my silent questions.