I am still wrapping my head around the fact that I have three children.
In 39 months, 4 1/2 years of marriage and 28 years of age, I have three of the world's greatest gifts and biggest responsibilities.
My body is exhausted. I have grown, and delivered two big babies in 363 days. My scoliosis is at its worst, pain level pretty high, rod incredibly broken. And yet, somewhere and somehow I am doing this, and with less overwhelmed moments than I expected.
I must admit, I was fearing defeat, all out chaos, impossibility. And there are definitely those moments days. But we are doing it, and for the most part with smiles. Because it is a lot easier to laugh and smile, than cry and stress.
People constantly ask how I am handling things, and with a look of "Uh-oh is she going to have a breakdown?" or "I wonder how much wine she drinks". And I have had the funniest comments about how hard it will be for me to lose my baby weight aka your still pudgy, you look exhausted aka you look horrible, "I bet you need a tummy tuck after those three", and my favorite..."Was that one planned" in which I kindly smile, say bless your heart (thank God for southern grace) and remind the person that he is sitting right there, can hear you, and was most certainly in someones plans, as I look up to the heavens. People never cease to amaze me...BUT "I do still believe people are good at heart"...Thank you Anne Frank
I have figured out how to change a diaper while hurdling Bland with one foot and balancing on the other. I have learned how to let things go. The consistent crying(Bland) and whining has started to fade into a background like music. I have stopped stressing about Charlotte's hair being perfect and adorned with a matching bow for her perfect outfit to go to preschool. Speaking of looks, I have come to the conclusion that there will be days that the mirror and I do not meet.
Bland is my hard child, everyone has one, but his charm seems to make up for it, he is just that cute. Hunter is my precious, peaceful, easy baby, and I feel constant guilt for not having enough time to hold him. Charlotte, the sweet girl that made me a mother, she has true resilience, and has handled these two boys with grace and hilarity. I remind her quietly that girls are a tiny bit stronger than boys, in lots of different ways ( I figure she needs to know these things early).
Bland is my hard child, everyone has one, but his charm seems to make up for it, he is just that cute. Hunter is my precious, peaceful, easy baby, and I feel constant guilt for not having enough time to hold him. Charlotte, the sweet girl that made me a mother, she has true resilience, and has handled these two boys with grace and hilarity. I remind her quietly that girls are a tiny bit stronger than boys, in lots of different ways ( I figure she needs to know these things early).
I have figured out so many things. I have been knocked off my feet in so many ways. And yet again, my children continue to give me strength. I am still figuring out so many things. And yet again, my children remind me of the faith that it takes to be a parent. I am realizing the joys you can find in letting things go, accepting a messy floor, soaking in the hugs and snuggles, finding joy in my only one-on-one time with Hunter during the late night feeding (eek did i just say that). I will stop there.
I have learned to say sorry when I lose my temper and snap at someone. I have learned to let Bland's insane tantrums be, and just walk away. He may go to the principals office a lot, but he WILL learn one day. I have a personal understanding that some days are just not great, but the weeks are better judgments for life. And yet again, I can not help but think of how much I will miss these days when they are grown.
