Bulging eyes. Crazy stares. Mouth dropping to the floor. This is normally what happens when people find out I have three children, ages three and under.
Thirty-two months. All three of my children were born within thirty-two months. Not even a full three years. Now that I think about it, I understand the crazy looks.
My first and second child are fourteen months apart. While my second and third are just shy of eighteen months apart. I strongly advise against the fourteen month gap. It’s a doozy. And don’t be offended if you’re an Irish twin. Sorry, but it’s a lot of damn work when siblings are born so close together.
So three kids in thirty-two months. Yes. Crazy town over here. And to tell you the truth, when we were pregnant with our first child, my husband and I originally wanted four or five. You know, the whole minivan filled with kids kinda thing. But after my first labor experience, I settled on three being my happy number.
Before you get all judgy and say, “damn, does she know how babies are made?” Yes, I do. And if I’m being honest and I’m trying to be, a couple months before I found out I was pregnant with my oldest, I had a miscarriage. So yes, my kids are closer in age than originally planned, but I was just grateful we made it to the delivery room each time.
After my youngest was born, for the first four months, I had a 2-year-old, a 1-year-old and a newborn.
If that doesn’t sound crazy* to you, then you’re crazy! Because let me tell you, I felt like a zombie. Between constant laundry, cooking, cleaning house, pumping, cleaning bottles, cleaning pump parts, nap time, grocery runs, dance classes, doctor appointments, trips to target, entertaining two toddlers and still needing to bond with my newborn- it was a lot of work. I don’t think I slept more than four hours (interrupted of course ) for the first four months.
Even though I’m three kids in, I’m still learning and adapting my parenting style when needed.
Between the three, there is always something. Colds, teething, crappy diets, tantrums, sleep training, fighting bedtime, public meltdowns, separation anxiety, etc. There. Is. Always. Something. Since my youngest was born, there’s probably only been a handful of days where everyone in the house is in a good mood. And that’s including me because yes, sometimes I’m grumpy. Maybe I’m being a tad dramatic, but you catch my drift.
Is life getting easier? Yaaaaaaaaaas. Is having three kids in such a short period of time ideal? Hell to the no, but I wouldn’t change it for a thing. Our life is chaotic, non-stop from the moment we wake up to moment we go to bed. I barely have time to catch up on my DVR recordings (I still have some from 2017). My life is completely consumed with my family and I love it. The expression, “the days are long but the years are short” is so true. For now, I’m just soaking it all in. Before I know it, they’ll be starting school and I’ll be longing for those crazy, tantrum-filled, I only want to eat ice cream kinda days.