Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-CHANGES

It's been two months since Christopher was born. We've experienced lots of changes since then: my exodus from the classroom, for one, moving into our new house (may it be our last!), and, now, working from home. Having to rearrange some of these factors has proven a bit hectic, but then again, so was life before we rearranged.


Last weekend, for the first time in five months, I got a haircut. Okay, I got my hair colored, too. This was the first time that I have left the house by myself to go somewhere other than a school, a grocery store or a Target since the baby was born.


As I sat in the stylists' chair and made some small talk (hard to imagine, I know), the stylist asked me the question I get a lot: "Do you have anyone to help you?"


I've been reflecting on this a lot lately, especially since many friends who are at a distance have asked the same question. Even though we have relocated, and, yes, our families are not around, I have to say, I've given it some thought and geography really doesn't make a difference. I just don't like asking people to help me. And it's not that I think I can do it on my own or that I feel like I'm an all-powerful supermom. None of the above. I don't like asking people for their help because, well, it's easier to do things my way.


Now, my way is often scattered and more complicated than it needs to be. It's frustrating for my husband and my sons. But if I ask someone to help me, I run the risk of getting annoyed that they are doing it some way other than the way I'd like, and do I really have a right to evaluate someone's help? In order to combat this "My-way-itis," I've made a few conscious efforts. One is joining the co-op playgroup at our parish, where I have to consent to allowing other moms to watch my kids with the understanding that they trust me with theirs. Talk about your leap of faith. There's a big difference between dropping your kid off at preschool and sending him out into the tribe.


But I really wonder why I get this question. Do I look like I need the help? I don't think I send out the helpless vibe, I really don't. Is it really so rare for Jason and me to take care of stuff ourselves? Part of me thinks it must be if we get this question so much.


Two months ago, as we were preparing to move into our new house, people in Jason's office were asking how we were going to "manage it all." We had just welcomed our fourth son, moved into a new home, and Jason was going away on business. I think of that as a busy week, but it wasn't Mount Everest or the Spanish Inquisition. Nothing some paper plates and pre-made formula can't make easier.


That's not to say I love being in the house 24-7 either. When our new neighbors invited us over a few weeks ago, I whipped up a fruit tray and did a quiet dance of joy that I didn't have to worry about dinner. And I know that if I ever sincerely needed the help of my friends and family, I would ask, as I have in the past. (And for those who helped us through that ten-month-long relocation, I thank God for all you did, from airport runs to dinner invites, to play dates, to months-long sleepovers). But for now, I'm pretty happy to be hunkered down with the troops here. It's nuts. We're nuts. That's just the way it is right now. And I know it won't always be this way.