Two months. Three children. True story .

(Eden taking picture of me as I take an extra long time to look at potatoes for dinner)

   The only thing this post could be about is how incredibly tired I am. But lets face it, all of us are tired. I started being tired back in high school.  And no, it wasn't mono. 

Its the compilation of life. The more life you pack into your days, the more tired you become.  Ironically the less life you have also equals, more tired.

Anyway, like the title says, I have been a parent of three children for two months now.

(The baby is to Edens left)

Consequentially there are so many things I can say about my days (and nights). The temptation is there for me to be cliche and discuss the woes of parenting. Also discuss the double woes of being a mother to multiple children under 5, and the triple woes of staying home to care for them.
But I won't. Or at least I will try not to.

Also I am not going to get gushy and mushy about how wonderful my kids are and how great my life is. Because while I won't dispute the awesomeness that are my children and the joy I have stepping through my daily life, I won't. Or at least I'd like to say something a little more.

I feel tremendous amounts of pressure as a mom. Self inflicted and culturally speaking. And the truth is, I have come to realize, I project that onto my kids.  Like somehow they control my life and are having huge unrealistic expectations of me. Which come on babies i'm only human!
No but really its me not them. Having three is difficult. It is also rewarding.
The best way for me to explain how I feel is through a metaphor :

Okay so say you are learning to juggle. You begin by throwing one ball up and then catching it. Not too bad, but you had to shift your weight to get under the ball to catch it, which is a little heavier than expected. So you practice until you can throw it up and it return with accuracy.

Now that you feel pretty confidant with one you decide to move forward and add a second ball. your focus is split and the second ball is a little sticky so it feels weird when it leaves your hand. You make the needed adjustments. Maybe you widen your stance or change your wrist motion. But after a while you can throw both balls up at the same time and have them caught at the right time.

Then you add a third ball and things get even trickier. There is very little time between catch and release and on top of it all, the third ball is a little smaller so it takes slightly more concentration to catch. Plus one ball is always out of your reach at all times. However with enough hope, sweat and determination you learn to juggle all three balls simultaneously.

The important thing when tying that into parenting three kids is this, the jugglers biggest discipline is them self. How they change and learn as each ball is added, how they focus, and how they move regarding each balls specific nature.

As parents we don't change who our children are. But our choices will effect their position and starting point in life. Lets be real.

Our choices matter. Our choices do create consequences for those around us. Our choices reflect whats in Our hearts. And chances are we are lying to ourselves everyday about all three of those things not meaning quite as much as they do.

 In addition, our children are paying attention; So closely even, that they see themselves through our choices.

The sooner we own the responsibility we have over choices and their outcomes, the better. 

 Which means if anyone has to make changes its me (us), not the kids. And if i'm honest that is what makes being a mom so hard!  If I am going to be a better mom and person I have to stop lying to myself about my choices. And I have to focus more on the task at hand, and how I choose to feel about it.

For example yesterday Deacon peed in all four outfits he was put in and once on the floor. There was a strong temptation to feel like he was against me and the flow of my day. I got very cross with him. The reality is he was having a bad day and he just wasn't up to the task of monitoring his own bladder, it wasn't personal.  He is just two.

Today, however, is a new day and so far Deacon has had no "accidents". Thats nice.

When he got home from school today, he was hangry (angry from hunger) he wouldn't eat. Right there in that moment I could have made any number of choices to try and incite the action I wanted from him. This is one of those path deciding moments in a day. How I react to him in that moment could send him further into hysterics or help him get a balanced meal.

No pressure.

Well I had no clever ideas and I'm tired like I said, so I sat down on his little chair and put him in my lap. I half heartedly offered him a bite of his sandwich, which he refused with tears and frustration. So I took a bite and just sat there holding him and the sandwich. And you know what?  Eventually ( 3 minutes later) I asked again, added some spaceship noises, he forgot his conviction and took a bite. And then another bite until he finished it with a smile on his face. After lunch he played by himself for a while and some with his sister. I had a little time to eat lunch myself and periodically write this blog, feed the baby, explain to Eden for the tenth time why she didn't need anymore "treats".
                   
This happened.......

 ($10 foundation is not for finger painting the closet)

Turns out, what he really needed is what most of us need. Someone just to sit there with us in our vulnerable moments and perhaps gently encourage us to eat something.

What I need, and Eden can attest to it, is new make up.

One ball up...One ball down. We'll try it again tomorrow.