A picture's worth a thousand words, so I won't add to much to this except to say:
I had a moment, in October or November, when I realized that there would be many times in the day where I would have to stretch myself three ways to make one mama fulfill the role of three, for three young and needy kids.
After much trial and error, I realized I could talk to one child, touch one child, and look at one child all at the same time. So: Lucy could tell me a story, I could make silly baby faces at Thomas, and I could tickle Peter's back as he sat next to me.
Every single day I ask if that's enough. I know in my heart that it is, but I also know it's not.
Having so many little ones so close together has been a gift and a tax for the children. Built in playmates, for sure, but also built in sharing, built in compromise, built in sacrifice, and built in sucking-it-up-and-doing-it-for-yourself.
(That happens a lot around here. Often in the course of the day, many little chairs are spread through the house, hints that small ones have been reaching in high places for the things they need. Or the things they want. Like: scissors. Or: dried split peas.)
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