Siblings Archives - Sisterhood Of The Sensible Moms

A friend with an equally oversized brood once said, “Every time I open the van doors, I hear circus music.” Amen, sister, and I never unloaded a minivan again without cuing up a little Big Top soundtrack in my head. Big families are many things, but subtle we are not.

One thing we most definitely are is loyal.

Eleven years ago today, I had my fourth child, a beautiful healthy baby boy. I checked off that box of having a family that mirrored my happy one growing up. But even basking in that bucolic heady mix of newborn love and sleep deprivation, my most Pollyanna self could see that I was also in one hell of a pickle. My husband was set to travel for ten days through South America on the day the baby turned a month old.

A mere two days before the start of school. Gulp.

My mother was a teacher so there was no way she could miss the first week of school, and my mother-in-law was traveling as well. My sister lived in Chicago. All of my friends were busy getting their own kids back to school. In short, I was going to be left to the mercy of the orcs as I tried to get my then six year old and four year old fed, dressed, happy, and on their merry way with a newborn and a really, really helpful two year old.

Help came in the form of my youngest brother, my parents’ number 4, who was in college an hour away. Jonathan would leave classes in the evening and drive an hour north every day for the first week of school. He spent the night and helped me feed and dress everybody every morning that first week and then went back to his classes. He held babies or hands. He changed diapers or TV channels. He filled sippy cups and downtime. He was in short the fairy godmother I so desperately needed with a little more facial hair and less high heels.

Whenever someone asks me if they should have a fourth child, I tell them this story. On the one hand, I think you need to be completely upfront and honest about what you are getting yourself into. That circus music, those sippy cups, that sense of being taken down by some creature no matter how fantastical it may seem—that’s all real. If you are thinking of lowering the birth control defense line, you should have some idea of what you are welcoming across the border.

This is the other story I tell. When Deacon was nine months old, I hosted a get-together with some old friends. I had showered, put on the fancy non-stained GAP t-shirt, and even baked some of my famous chocolate chip cookies. Old friends are the best at delivering the type of fun that makes you forget yourself completely or, in this case, forget to feed your kid. I walked into the kitchen and there was baby Deacon with his hands deep in a box of Cheerios feeding himself a little snack. He didn’t even dump the box on the floor. Good baby, good Momma, good story.

But be open to a fourth child if that’s what your heart desires. Deacon was then and has forever forth been the easiest of children. Sweet and reliable, Deacon is a happy ballast for our family. The steady sturdy tenacity he brings to every aspect of life makes all of our days better. He makes lunches for teens who are too grumpy, cooks a hot breakfast for himself and his dad, and finds all the missing socks, belts, and shoes, and that’s just what he does in the morning.

As parents, we revel in the allure of doing this all the fourth time around and the singular pleasure of him for himself. The gift of having many children is a chance to do every age again and see all of it through another pair of eyes coming into his own.

Today, Deacon moves ever more firmly into the land of tween. Nobody knows how the tumult of the teen years will change him, but I think, like his uncle before him, he will retain his essential sweetness. All of our babies have their own special glow, and the fourth time is really, truly a charm.