10 months later, and I'm still here. I cannot believe how much my life has changed since I last blogged. There are about a million things that I can list, but the most important thing is that way back then I was the mom of two precious boys, and now I have three. I heard so many things from my friends who had three or more kids about how much it changes when you have more than two, and as much as they all sounded like cliches, it is so true. We pretty much had it down as parents of two. Oh, not that we were perfect; far from it. Juggling two of anything is really doable: apples, bowling pins, children...believe me, you can do it with some practice. Three is a whole new game.
I'm not at all saying that I don't enjoy having three kids. I do. Really (yes, some days I have to convince myself). It brings me great joy. Yes, joy, frustration, elation, exhaustion, sadness, fun, pride, laughter, and fulfillment all rolled into each and every day. Even now that my baby is seven months old, sometimes I feel like a hormonal, emotional basket case. For a long time I would say that it's just postpartum hormones, but now I think it is just part of being a mom. How could I not feel that every day? My heart is constantly in three pieces, and I'm wearing it on the outside of my body. It's tender, and it gets bounced around and stretched and thrown back together a million times a day.
Staying home with my kids may just add to the mix. I love being home. When I think about going back to work, it makes my heartache. I know that it will come in just a few short months, but for now I'm cherishing my time here. Don't get me wrong, I'm not spending my whole day making lovey eyes at my children. Sometimes cherishing my time at home looks like me pulling my hair out. I have moments every day when I want to freeze time and take a mental picture of how perfect my kids are at this exact moment, and then ten minutes later I am desperately trying to recall that special moment as I put one of them in time-out (for the gazillionth time). I love to hear my kids laugh together. Each bit of laughter is adding to my mom life meter (I have a five year old who is obsessed with video games, it's the best analogy I could come up with) and I try to bank as much of that laughter as I can, because I have no doubt that right around the corner comes the fighting or crying or heaven help me, stepping on a Lego that rapidly depletes it.
Having three makes you more aware that sometimes you are that mom that you've been judging all this time. Yes, I will bribe my kids with the promise of McD's to make it through a trip to Walmart with all three of them. Yes, I will tell them that it's too cold to go to the park when really I don't feel like getting out of the house that day. Yes, I will have nights when I realize that we barely got in five minutes of reading, let alone the recommended 30. Yes, I whisper threats to them in the restaurant to try to get them to quit acting like the kids that they are. Yes, I put off playing with them sometimes to do things like organize a cabinet. Yes, I'll love them with ever fiber of my being, but Lord help me, I'm not about to let them turn out like jerks. Yes, I put them to bed at night and then wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. But I am. I know that I am, because I know that they are my little blessings. I may have to ask my Jesus twenty times a day to give me the strength to not be the worst version of myself, but that's why I know that I am doing a good enough job. Because I know that I care enough about these three precious hearts to be a real and honest mom, even if it's not the pretty, polished version.
