It's Bermuda Triangle time. Any hour between 7 am and 9 pm when all three kids are asleep. We call it that because, sadly, it can be pretty rare these days. All three kids are pretty good sleepers, and they get the sleep they need. It's just that sleep cycles often rotate randomly so that no matter who's passed out in the next room, someone is always awake.
When all three are sleeping, all three wake up at the same time, too. That's fun. Devon begs for Carrie and Melina to come in his bed. I relent and they tumble and laugh while I bend over them, poised to yank one of the girls out if she's getting squished.
This week made me feel spread a little thinly. I expected to accomplish so much more: make more baby food, spend time on the back porch playing with Devon, do my ballet posture toning video every day. I'm blending sweet potatoes this afternoon and flapped my arms like Swan Lake for ten minutes on Tuesday. Devon's birthday toys never seem to come up off the floor. I swear I sorted the toys and vacuumed the pen an hour ago, and it still looks like this.
I just want to say, "It's okay, Pink New Baby. Don't jump! Life is worth living, even if it's a little messier than you'd like it to be."
The highlight of my week was opening the boxes of 6-9 month clothes that kind friends and family have handed down to us and filling the dresser with pairs of sweet summer outfits. My big girls are so blessed to have thoughtful people in their lives who give so generously to them.
Other than that, we didn't do much. We had lunch at Sam's Club TWICE this week because our usual park date got rained out and loading all the kids in the car is too much effort to waste.
I'm at the lucky stage where I can change my mind on where to go and nobody minds because nobody really remembers where we were going anyway. Myself included, sometimes.
Sleeping isn't the only thing that all three can do at once. It's as rare as Bermuda Triangle time, but sometimes all three cry. Babies get new teeth. Devon's feelings get hurt when I won't let him take out all three of his messy birthday toys at once and coat the house evenly in tiny toy pieces. That's when I grab a twin in each arm and yell "Trifecta, Baby!" in my best Dick Vitale impression.
Thankfully, the rare fussy times pass as quickly as a Florida downpour. I'm blessed to have happy kids. Ones that, very occasionally, magically pass out for two hours to let mommy drink a cup of coffee, paint her toenails, and write a quick blog post.
No comments:
Post a Comment