A year ago, I anticipated the arrival of our third child, another daughter. As I made space in our home for her, I spent much time imagining how I would balance it all. Unlike the fear and nervousness I felt before Grace, our second-born daughter, was born, I eagerly and impatiently waited for our youngest’s appearance.
I wanted to see that my Sweet Pea was healthy and hold her in my arms. I couldn’t wait to touch her sweet face and give her kisses and cuddles. While I did worry about how her sisters might react to our new addition, namely, Grace, I had no concerns about taking care of all three. In fact, I thought it would be easy, easier than going from one child to two. Going from two to three felt like a natural progression in our family and an easier transition to make.
In many ways, I wasn’t wrong. As our family grew, I found it quite manageable to balance taking care of my two oldest girls as well as the baby. In this way, I was right. The transition was effortless going from two to three as opposed to going from one to two.
However, what I didn’t count on, and how could I have known, was that my time would no longer be my own. While tending to my daughters was straightforward, I forgot that three children need more attention than two.
Ever since the birth of Samantha in June, I feel like I keep falling further and further behind. I’m never fully caught up on the laundry. The house is never completely clean. Any organizational skills I used to possess seem hopelessly lost. I neglected my writing so I could take care of my girls. In fact, I’ve neglected most of my needs at some point over the last several months: “me” time, reading books, delving into my family history, keeping up with friends in a more substantial way than Facebook, my blog, skin care, and even showers.
And yet, despite feeling like I barely keep my head above water some days, I would not change a damn thing.
My world has changed a lot in the past year with the addition of Samantha and the purchase of a new home (which had us move to a new town). And, as crazy as it may make me, I am happy. Happily in survival mode, but blessed beyond belief.
As I look around me, I see my three girls who adore each other. I look at the new home we own and love, even if it isn’t as clean as I wish it was. I gaze at my adoring and loving husband who loves all of us, and all I feel is blessed. Well, tired (very tired), but fortunate.
I also know that survival mode doesn’t last forever. That someday soon, all of my girls will be in school and I will have time to read, write, keep up with friends, dig into genealogy, and shower. And, when that happens, I’ll miss being overwhelmed, crowded, tired, and always busy.
So, despite my grumbling (or what I prefer to think of as venting), I love it all and savor every moment I can. Well, when I have time, something I’m in short supply of, for now. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. This week’s sentence is “In 2015, I learned….” or “The one thing I learned in 2015 is…”