The Reality of the Three-Ring Circus Has Hit

I should have written this a month ago. A month ago I was running on new-baby-fumes. A month ago I thought this was easy. A month ago I was telling everyone to go for it, add one more child to the mix. A month ago I was performing baby worship while the world around me was in chaos.

Deep down, or maybe even a little closer to the surface, I still feel that way....that this transition from two to three children is way easier than from one to two. But the reality of the three-ring-circus has hit. Lucky for me, and my children, I get more energy from expending energy. I am an extrovert.

Right now, I am thriving. We have our moments when I'm not sure how to get all three boys in the shopping cart, plus all the groceries. Moments when the oldest acts out by throwing a large plastic bin at the second child's head because he knows mommy is busy nursing the third bundle of joy; after a couple of weeks of this incessant nursing he looked at me, patting the spot on the couch where he so often finds me and said, "You're here a lot." I agreed.

There are mometns that I , in desperation, call my mom and convince her that she really does want to spend her Wednesday runnign errands in town, helping me lug the boys in and out of the van...in and out of various commercial buildings.

I'm very impressed with her 68-year-old enthusiasm. The other day she let me run into Fred Meyer while she doled out PB&J, cheese crackers, and Capri Suns. When I came back she walked her 5-foot 3-inch frame from the back of the mini-van to the front and did this fantastic somersault move back into the front passenger seat. I was beaming with pride. My mom is awesome.

Maybe this is why I love all the chaos that having three kids under the age of 4 brings: that I feel awesome. When I've been up throughout the night nursing and am still able to get out of bed with a smile on my face; hug and kiss my older two; make scrambled-cheesy-eggs; get myself dressed; get everyone else dressed; instigate a walk; plant 20-some flowers outside; get lunch made; prep dinner; keep the laundry in a constant cycle of wash, dry, fold and sort; read a few books aloud (complete with character voices); wrestle; do a letter game; set the dinner table; get giddy and excited for daddy to be home; facilitate several time-outs; vacuum up popcorn for the umpteenth time; bathe the kids; dress them for bed; nurse, nurse and nurse some more...do all this only to do it all over again...well, I sort of feel like giving myself an award and telling myself I'm awesome.

This is what I whisper to my inner superhero as I look around and see nothing but clutter, feel nastiness clinging to the floor under the dinning table, and smell the sweet aroma of a diaper bin that is in much need of disposal.

This is actually what I have to whisper, chant and proclaim since tomorrow is another day, another day to juggle it all over again. I am awesome. I am amazing. I can do it again and again and again. I am mom.

(This appeared in The Newberg Graphic on April 8th, and is pretty much how I still feel. Yesterday was a bad day. I was very distracted. The youngest was extra needy. The older two did not get a lot of quality time from me. I ended up having to try and put all three to bed, all at the same time. This resulted in me not feeling so hot about being even remotely awesome. Glad tomorrow is another day, today that is! So far it has gone loads better. I'm planning on decorating Easter eggs with the boys, and just being.)