After carefully stepping away from each of my girls as I put them down for a nap, I decided to take a moment to capture the here and now.
I try to get the girls out of the house everyday between 11-1, even if it’s just to walk around our neighborhood, and today we opted to go to the park behind the library. After what feels like (and really was) on and off weeks of rain, it feels so good to get out of the house. I can already feel a change in my personality from getting some fresh air and sunshine for a few days straight.
I got the usual, “Whoa, you have your hands full!” when a dad saw me pushing both my girls on swings while wearing Reese in the baby carrier. I smiled and carried on. If I had a quarter for every time I step out of the house with my trio and get some kind of comment (whether kind or rude) about having my hands full, I might already have a hefty college savings for each of my daughters. I take it with a grin and keep watching my girls play, because there’s something liberating happening to me…I couldn’t care less. 😆 It’s not taken in a way where I don’t have motivation to be the best person I can be, but I’ve opted to put any additional energy I have (oh, I laugh as I type that) towards things that matter…primarily my husband and my girls.
If I’m being honest, sometimes I romanticize about how much easier life was when I had two. (I did the same thing when I had Sadie, reflecting back on one, but I can’t even imagine that now, ha!) Getting in and out of the car, how much smaller of bags I’d need to carry all of their stuff in, going to the grocery store, fun little trips to the mall…it was so much more feasible with two. I can also honestly admit that I was spoiled rotten with how good of sleepers they both were. With Hadley sleeping through the night by 6 weeks old, and Sadie only waking once a night for a 5 minute feeding (until she hit 10 months,) I never understood stories about babies that just didn’t sleep. Well, I totally get it now!
My little Reese has an immature esophageal sphincter muscle, which causes her to spit up if she ever drinks too much milk. I’ve figured the sweet spot of smaller but more frequent feedings, and my little peanut has gone from the 6% in weight to the 25% in two months. It is a relief, but also a lot of work, as she is unable to sleep through the night, and wakes up a minimum of three (often four) times a night to be fed (out of genuine hunger, not just comfort.) Rather than harping on how miserable sleep deprivation is, I’ve realized some good that has come out of it: when you’re far more tired than you knew possible, but still have three small people to spend an entire day with, you do the best you can for them, and worry less about what others think. As soon as I realized this was my reality, I gave all of my friends a complimentary warning of, “Hey, for the next few months I might be a crappy, space cadet of a friend, but I promise it’ll get better!”
There’s something liberating about difficult seasons of life; it’s freeing, humbling, and you see sides of yourself you just didn’t know existed. The other night I discovered (on my new jeans, mind you) a hole by my rear pocket that I couldn’t figure out whether it was fashionable or accidental. Sadly, it was not a fashionable hole, and as soon as my husband assured me that you could not see anything (since I had been running around in those jeans all day) I was over it in about two seconds. My biggest complaint is now needing to replace my new jeans that were ridiculously comfortable and flattering (if you need a good pair, they were Hudson “Krista” jeans, and I’ve concluded the hole was just a defect…so the plan is a swift exchange, because let’s be real…jean shopping while semi-recently postpartum is not one of the finer things in life, ha!)
What I want to remember, is that even in the less-than-glamourous times, the moments can still be so sweet. My girls won’t remember my messy (not in a cute way) bun and mismatched jammies in the morning, but they’ll remember that I cuddled with them and did puzzles and sang silly Elmo songs with them. Little Reese doesn’t have a care in the world about anything, as long as I am there to give her some smiles, hugs, and nourishment. As hard as this season might be, my goal is for it to be a season of grace: grace on being late for things no matter how hard I try, grace for all the mundane chores/picking up/wiping things that has to happen, grace for stupid holes in my pants and how spit-up on my clothes is my temporary normal, grace for how my baby needs me in a different way than my other two, and grace for trying my best to enjoy my family in a world that doesn’t always make it so easy to do so.
In the meantime, if I’m not going to be replenished by good rest, thank goodness for sweet treats, a husband who makes me feel loved and appreciated (and also makes me laugh so hard I could cry,) back scratches from Hadley (even though they’re brief and kind of terrible, ha!) big ol’ gap toothed grins from Sadie, and Reese’s adorable little earlobes that are so soft and kissable!
Thanks for reading,
PS: The title of this post is totally a shout out to Mary Poppins, one of my faves! 🙂