They look at me and can’t help themselves. The urge to say it is just too great. Too irresistible. Too obvious. I can see the sentence forming in their head before it is even uttered from their lips.

You sure have your hands full!

As our fourth little one entered the world last week, this is no doubt a true statement. With two older boys of 11 and 7, a precocious 3 ½ year old girl, and now a sister newborn, our hands are indeed full. But that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

My dishwasher is full of sippy cups and infant bottles. My washing machine is full of pink blankets and school uniforms. My refrigerator is full of Similac and Gatorade, while the recycle bin is overflowing with plastic milk jugs. The carpet is full of dog hair, M&M’s, and footprints ranging from kneecaps to size 8 high tops.

We have iPods and baby monitors filling the airwaves. We’ve got baby, baseball, and mood swings. We were simultaneously experiencing puberty, pregnancy and potty training, and I truly don’t know which one is the most miserable.

My checkbook is filled with debits to Sports Authority, Babies R Us and the grocery store. My car holds 2 car seats, 1 double stroller, 2 equipment bags and about 4 teaspoons of gas.

These first precious days are filled with feedings, changings, more feedings and more changings. Flickering flashbulbs capturing a birth and another’s 7th birthday. Visitors fill the living room and mail and packages fill the foyer. The nights are filled with intermittent sleep, infomercials and more feedings. Even my bed is filled beyond capacity with extra sleepers.

And then there is me, full on coffee and cookies from an edible bouquet from a friend. My nose is filled with the odd, yet surprisingly pleasant cocktail of a baby’s neck and Axe body spray which the boys now use in excess. My ears are filled with Green Day, the theme to a WWE match and a toddler’s singsong attempts at “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” The baby heaves a satisfied yawn at her unique lullaby. My eyes are filled with tears; a mixture of pain, hormones and joy, but mostly the latter. They take in the images of a first cry, a first bottle, a first bath. The sequel is her siblings watching along, too.

I sit amongst this chaos, exhausted. Thoughts float by of practices, doctor’s appointments deadlines and homework. Worries flutter, the significant and the not-so. A puppy’s head is on my feet, a baby is in my lap, big brothers and a sister flank my sides.

And I really don’t know if I’ve been this at peace.

Full hands and all.

©2007 Tracey Henry

Divamail me at Divamail@SuburbanDiva.com.