Hellooooo out there. My blog is not dead, it just pretends to be. Who knew that six would be the number that could sink me? Hypothetically, of course. Not four, not five, but…six. A favorite line of mine from Elisabeth Elliot’s mother goes like this, “If one child takes up all your time, six can’t take any more!”

I’m a busy lady. Now, when folks say, “You have your hands full!” I don’t chirp a sweet little, “And my heart is full too!” No, instead I say, “You better believe it. Holy smokes. Do I have spit-up on my back? Can you check for me?” I will calm down soon, just give me some space to work this out.

I made a promise to myself on behalf of all the women raising children behind me, and that was this: I won’t forget. When I found myself drowning when I had three under three, I told myself that I wouldn’t forget how it feels: how hard it is, how alone I felt, how inadequate I felt, how tired I was. Now I have three under three again, but this time I have to teach long division somehow in the midst of it. I can’t just bunk out on the couch with Mr. Rogers.

It would be easy to pat a mama with two toddlers on the head and say, “Well, at least you don’t have my load.” But that would be forgetting. I remember when I had two children. They were 19 months old and a newborn. My newborn had real, genuine colic. One day I told a mother of five about how my baby cried whenever her eyes opened. Colic Child was sleeping in her car seat, and as if on cue, after I finished the sentence, she opened her eyes and screamed. I wanted to cry too. But what my friend told me instead was, “Well, just wait until you start homeschooling. Then it will be hard.”

I’m like, what if they don’t make it to kindergarten? What if I sell them on the black market?! What if I’m in a mental institution and can’t homeschool their whiny little selves? What if I die from exhaustion? What if my brain flips out and I start singing the Barney Clean Up song without stopping? I’ve seen movies about people like this you know.

I made it through that road with God’s help. I grew. I learned. I changed. I’m not who I was before. I’m not as selfish, not as impatient. With this next batch of three under three, I see that I still have so far to go to be like Jesus. But by His grace, I will learn to be more like Him and we won’t just survive this thing, we’ll thrive.

Life with three under three, #1
Life with three under three, #2
Life with three under three, #3
Life with three under three, #4
Life with three under three, #5
Life with three under three, #6
Life with three under three, #7

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Here are two of my non-colic children. Miss Grumpy here is actually quite pleasant.