ONE SHORT OF A LITTER

It must have been 1966, 5 years married, the last two in college, the farthest thing from my mind was replication. In all good faith I think it was Mary Jane K. who put the bug in my wife’s ear. My mother in law was anxious to be a grandma and we weren't moving fast enough. I don’t know exactly what was said. I don’t think I ever broached that gap with my wife but it likely had to do with waiting too long, past those prime, child bearing years when the body and the mind lose their edge after all, you want to live long enough to know your grandchildren. There it was. But she knew as well, no matter how long you wait, save and prepare, you’re never ready to start a family. Every childless couple knows, kids are so expensive and everything changes, maybe not what you really want, at least not just yet.  You can’t return a 2 year-old.

So one evening or afternoon I was informed, “It’s time!” Naturally I needed clarification. “Already,” I asked, “so soon?” Nothing conditional about her reply, “Soon!” I thought we should take a few months to practice but she wasn’t hearing that. Next ovulation was only a few days away and we would find out just what kind of a man I was. No problem; you either pass or fail and we passed on the first try. I never had a problem with dirty diapers or getting up in the middle of the night. I took my turns and our new boy-child grew, developed, conforming to us as much as us to him.  He was so easy I thought I must be a great dad. I was there for all of the thrills but in the end, mothers have the touch while at their best, dads only dodge disaster. All of the axioms are true, your life will never be the same. Like; I remember when we had spare time. 

1970, I was in graduate school in Illinois, our son was just turned three. I got the same, steely eyed look; “It’s time again.” Son needed a sibling, soon! I bet my life on it, Mary Jane K. was at the bottom of that one too but mom’s know best and I can’t say I was surprised. The family thing was going alright, living in hyperdrive wasn’t so bad. It’s the only child who misses out on sibling chaos and nobody wants to miss out on the chaos.  #1 Son would have a sibling in the spring. But that winter, sibling went from singular to plural, twins. It sounds so cool when it’s somebody else. On the refrigerator door, their hand written feeding schedule for the first month resembled a Calcutta train schedule, color coded, it took both of us to do the math. Stored away safely in the family archive, it evokes both chaos and detail. Three little boys. Helter-Skelter was the new normal, From day-one, "Conform" was not in their operating system; we had to adapt. A popular metaphor for long periods of hard work is; “Pushing the rock up the hill.” That’s what we were doing. So many happy, sad, funny, disappointing, surprising stories there; enough for a Ken Burns special. 

After 3 years in Western Colorado we moved on. The man who fired me said he was doing me a favor. Hard to believe at the time but we survive what we can’t repair and he knew better than me. During that last spring I got another surprise. My wife confided in me, #4 was on the way. I thought, “How in the world did we do that?” Had no plan for that but you slip and fall, get back up.  You get some rest, then go out and face the day. The twins started talking by their first birthday but not in English. They had their own language between them and it made us crazy. They understood what we said but not the other way. Difficult yes but never bad, with them every day was a contest and we lost as many as we won. Son #1 would sit in the grocery cart, sounding out words on food labels. He was so easy, I fantasized a multiple mixup at the hospital but I was a biology guy, no mix up, just generics. Same gene pool but very different fish. 

I do not believe in fate or destiny except when viewed through the lens of hindsight. After the fact it doesn’t matter what might have been, you get what you've got and you can’t reboot. The odds against anything happening at a particular place in time are astronomical. But my time between being unemployed and newly hired was only weeks. That summer was a grand but taxing adventure, the five of us living in a 19 ft. camper on a river bank in the mountains. My job was driving tourists up and down the mountain side. My wife was stuck in camp with three little boys and #4 on the way. One day a man sat beside me on the way up the mountain. He listened to my story and offered me a job, a good job. Our #4 would be born in Michigan. 

Mary Jane K. and Grandpa K. were there when we brought Baby Girl home from the hospital in Kalamazoo. M.J.  was delighted. She wanted a granddaughter all along and I was glad she got her wish. After a year in the city we moved out to cornfield county, to a big, yellow farm house just off the highway. #1 Son read relentlessly, pondered snow flakes and memorized large portions of the encyclopedia while #2 & #3 rolled like puppies in mud puddles and mashed ripe mulberries all over each other.  #4 took it all in, she didn’t miss a thing. Potty training, she would not sit down. Standing tall, facing the potty seat she peed her shoes full. She wanted to be one of the boys but they were an army of two with no plans to make it three. Ironically, she became their defender, the one who covered their backs. If you mess with one of her brothers you would have to answer to her.  She is still the family’s Champion. 

Shortly after #4 arrived we cut the cord, one short of a litter, no more surprises. Enough’s enough: they all turned out and good enough is good enough. They pull their own weight, all four and treasure people more than treasure. Maybe no surprise but four kids who fought relentlessly now love each other dearly.  I am familiar with the view, in this life, the measure of success is not in accomplishment but rather in the struggle. I am of that view. A few years ago we were together at a reception.  A friend noted, “You’ve got great kids. What is your secret?” I said, “They were great when we got ’em.”