Madison’s birth was a lesson in humility. I found myself quickly compromising personal preferences for the sake of practically. As I’ve previously stated, my tolerance for nonsense skyrocketed. I’ve always illustrated this concept by recalling the time I wiped Mad’s runny nose with the inside of my t-shirt without batting an eye. With kids, sometimes you don’t get to pick and choose the best-case scenario. Okay, a lot of the time.
And that was just with the one kid. Cole and Avery are two more variables which have been added to the equation of our lives and consequently, randomness has risen dramatically. That’s right, math and science.
The first real manifestation was our discovery that the third kid changes everything. We tried to make it work in the Highlander, but eventually, I got tired of planning with military precision every single time we went shopping. Did I ever want to return to the Van Life? No. Oh, well.
I’ve wanted to go to the beach for a really long time, but Avery got really sick, then when she got out, Cole had a runny nose, then Avery had a runny nose and so everything except my forearms, head, and neck are still of my natural pasty white. We’ve made the most of Grandma and Grandpa’s backyard, but I really want to get out there soon. Maybe during Fall Break…
So yesterday – since everybody loves Mem – Avery and Cole hurled themselves at Lynnette and Madison crept up toward her too. “Quick, take a picture!” Lynnette said. I snapped the first one and in an amazing turn of events, ALL FOUR MEMBERS OF MY FAMILY ARE LOOKING IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF THE CAMERA! This is an unprecedented event that has more to do with luck than anything else. And then Cole threw up on Madison’s arm. Randomness.
This life – my life – is only possible because of the constant in the center of our family. It was total randomness that brought Lynnette and me together and some kind of weird voodoo that allowed us to fall in love despite our obvious and deep differences. I have always admired people who possess traits that I don’t. That’s why I was drawn to Lynnette: she possessed ambition, patience, intelligence, and incredibly shapely legs. She has a kind of built-in stability and grace under pressure that I can’t even begin to counterfeit. I absolutely suck at planning, so when I do, I feel like some kind of accomplished scholar who’s broken ground with a new earth-shattering discovery. Consequently, I think, I have a hard time making adjustments when those plans fall apart. I never want to make plans so every time they fail I use that as evidence that I should never make plans. It’s only Lynnette that keeps the five of us together. She’s like a super hero whose super-power is to defend against variables and randomness. She’s like Dramamine amid a choppy sea. She’s like a bass line that tells you exactly when and how to move just so. Which is fantastic – because my only super-power is creating similes. Not super-useful.