“It’s Survivable”

I come from a family of four.

The Hubby comes from a family of three.

We’re bucking the trend, and I’m scared I won’t do it justice.

When people ask me how old Little is, I tell them, but it’s always followed by “… and my older kids are 2 and 5!”. I’m always surprised at how many come back with “I have {insert number greater than two here}!” or “I’m from a family of {insert number greater than two here}!”. My reply?

“Oh good… it’s survivable!”

Being a parent of three (or more) feels like wearing a badge of honor. I’m a member of some club that only crazy non-type-A people sign up for (I jest.). I find myself trying desperately to keep my chin up and make it all look so easy, since realistically, having two was a very easy transition for me (hence the badge… some would argue that having ANY children deserves a medal!). Why has the transition to three been so encompassing?


It’s constant.

It’s constant motion. It’s constant talking. It’s constant needing. It’s constant tiff-handling. It’s constant laundry. It’s constant feeding. It’s constant picking up. It’s constant learning. It’s constant changing.

It’s constant.

I’m good with constant. It’s predictable.

As soon as we got home with Little, I started making lists (*shocker*). I wanted a plan to know how I’d manage to get all three kids in the car to take Big to Kinder every day. I wanted a plan to know how laundry would be handled. I wanted a plan to know when baths would happen, dinner would be cooked, homework would get done, fridge would get filled, etc..

But it’s constantly changing. And the more I come to accept that the new predictable is unpredictable, I’ll feel more in control.

At least I know it’s survivable.




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