You have how many?!

As soon as people find out that I have three children less than a year apart, their first response is usually, "Wow, you must have your hands full," or "I don't know how you do it!" Honestly, the last four months of my life are a blur. I have no idea what we did on Easter, other than going to my fiance's grandparents' house and the fact that we forgot the diaper bag and couldn't hang out long. Also, that no one felt like cooking so we had KFC (trust me to never forget the food). Each day blends into the next, I have a hard time remembering the day of the week let alone what month it is, and my nights and days are filled with the same thing on repeat. It's kind of like Groundhog Day, with Bill Murray, except less funny and lot more tear filled.

Being a mom is frustrating no matter how many children you have. Parenting is the hardest job on Earth, especially when you are a stay at home parent. Running a household is a lot of responsibility - doing laundry, dishes, cooking, and cleaning for five people is exhausting and I constantly feel like I am behind on something. Trying to fit in time for hobbies, or at least things that I enjoy outside of my children, is next to impossible. My passion is writing, and finding the quiet and privacy to type to my little heart's content rarely happens. My oldest, Harry, enjoys pushing my laptop closed on my hands every time I get my fingers on the keyboard. I usually have to wait until he's passed out - for a nap or the night - before I get any of my work done. But that's what you expect entering parenthood - your wants and needs come second (or third or fourth) to that of your family. I think that's why so many women end up in the nursing field, or at least caring for other people. Once you have a family, it's almost second nature to take care of other's.

My point is, it's really hard to get anything done. I have no idea how I've made it these last four months, because YES, my hands are extremely full. Dealing with postpartum depression and raising three little humans, running a household and keeping a good relationship with Goose (my partner) is extremely difficult. I cry a lot, and some days I really don't know if I can get through it. I look at the mountain of laundry waiting to be washed and dried and folded and want to weep. It took me two weeks to get through my dishes, which were beginning to reek. But my kids are always clean, always fed, always taken care of, and that is what matters. Seeing their tiny smiling faces, hearing their coos and Harry's gibberish, that is what keeps me going. Even when I want to break down, even when I think I can't go any further, they push me. My soon to be husband is a great support, reassuring me daily (sometimes hourly) that I am a good mother, that my kids love me, that I am doing a good job. Sometimes, I remember my AA days, and have to think, "Progress not perfection." Life is improving, albeit slowly, but it's getting there.

I'm learning their personalities as they grow. JD loves to be held, hates being alone, and enjoys watching Barney. Michaela is a little princess - most of the time, she's calm and watchful. She is trying so hard to sit up. Both of the babies are rolling around like mad people. Harrison is affectionate and playful, though full of mischief. He's definitely boy, through and through - making messes, climbing things he shouldn't, getting into everything. I'm trying my hardest to cherish each moment, but it's difficult when they are all crying and demanding me to be in three places at once. I have a lot of mommy guilt that they aren't getting the attention they need, but its just part of being a mom of multiple kids. I hope they look back and think, "Wow, Mom is superwoman." But I also, realistically, just hope that when they grow up they are strong, intelligent, happy people. And that I can rest easy knowing that I did everything in my power to raise them right.