One-on-One Time: As Precious as the Last Diet Coke

Despite the inherent difficulties of my daughter not being healthy enough for regular school, there's been a tremendous benefit for both of us: time together.  With four kids, one-on-one time is a precious, precious commodity, like a rare jewel or the last Diet Coke in the fridge.  The Peanut Butter Kid was born into a family that already had two kids in it, and she had just turned two when her younger brother, Little Dude was born.

Although we make a serious effort to give each of our children one-on-one time, it's hard to come by, and therefore maybe a little sweeter when we do get it.  For the last two weeks, every school day, I've had six and a half hours of uninterrupted time with just one child.  It's kind of awesome.

I've never had one child.  Our twins were born first, and in many ways it's been a blessing that we've never had to deal with "only child" stuff.  They have all always had to share.  They have all always had to take turns.  It's great.  We're a tight-knit little tribe.  We travel as a pack.  If it was up to the kids, we'd also sleep as a pack.  You know how puppies sleep all in a heap?  That is how my kids would like our family to sleep, preferably in matching Hanna Andersson pajamas.  It sounds adorable and warm and cozy until there's feet in my face, someone has been elbowed in the head, and someone else had a little too much water to drink before bedtime.  So we won't be doing that (ever again) but otherwise, I love doing things as a family.

But, this one-child business?  It's delightful.  When Cookie and the Pork Lo Maniac were babies, I had to schlep them around in a giant stroller.  I'd envy the moms with the singleton babies, zipping through the store with a baby on her hip like the most adorable fashion accessory ever.  One baby is kind of like a purse.  Like, "hey, is that a new Vera Bradley bag you've got there?  Oh, it's a baby.  How cute!"

I know, I know. I have friends with triplets, and a friend with quads.  Talk about a production.  My friend with quads could not go anywhere without causing a ridiculous, show-stopping scene.  Plus, she already had a two-year-old when the quads were born.  So she would put the three heaviest babies plus the singleton in the stroller, and put the lightest baby in a front-pack carrier, and stroll around the neighborhood.  And by "stroll" I mean I am so glad she did not stroke out after the first block.  Relatively speaking, twins are not that big of a deal.  But they are kind of a big, sweaty deal when you're navigating the aisles of a grocery store, pushing a double stroller with one hand and pulling a grocery cart with the other.

So spending time with one six-year-old is incredibly fun.  We read books together and discuss them.  I love hearing her insights; she loves that no one interrupts her stream of thought.  When she's up to it, we take the occasional field trip to the library or the post office.

The other day we stopped at Target, which is a fancy Target that sells booze and has an in-house Starbucks.  I adore fancy coffee, but I don't buy it very often. It's expensive, and also their whole weird sizing system is too complicated.  I find that I can't order at Starbucks without over-exaggerating the word grande and I'm pretty sure I sound like a jackass, because in any other language except Starbuckese, grande means large.  Sometimes I try just saying "medium," but then I feel a schmuck who isn't cool enough to handle a coffee menu.

We finished buying our Target stuff, and had to walk past the Starbucks to leave.  The Peanut Butter Kid said,

"Mommy, you should get one of those iced coffees.  It would be a treat for you."

Well, folks, that just stopped me in my tracks.  And I was all, why, yes.  Yes, I should get a fancy iced coffee.  And then let's go buy you a pony because you're so. freaking. awesome.

To make it educational, I had her order it, hand over the money, and count the change.  FYI, she sounds completely comfortable ordering a grande iced coffee.