I remember watching a stand up thing by Bill Cosby when we were in Utah and had just our one little Lillie at the time. Just the three of us, living it up and taking a bazillion pictures on our Kodak Easyshare camera. I was offended beyond belief when Bill spouted out this:
Do you have children? How old are they? They're grown now, but how many did you have? Two? Okay, that qualifies. That qualifies, because a person with one child, I don't really call them a parent, because there are too many things left out. If you have just one child, there are too many things left out. For instance, if something's broken in the house, you have one child, you know who did it! See, you don't have to go through "I... I... I...". You know the child did it! Also, people with one child do not have to go through "Will you stop touching me?" I mean, if you got one child and the child is doing that, then you gotta take it away....
I was sitting next to Dustin secretly loathing this man who was telling me that having one child is easy and that it "doesn't count." Who was this guy anyway? My perfect baby who practically never cried and who was content with everything and everyone and who slept a solid 11 hours every night was still hard. Well, I guess I see the humor in it now, 7 years later. I think that happens with every sequential baby, I guess. You look back and think about how easy it was to just have one baby. Then about how easy it was to just have two children and to drive everywhere in a 4-door sedan and take up a small portion of a church bench. But listen. Three children is different from 1 and 2 and has changed my outlook on motherhood, families, and self purpose altogether.
I never knew what lack of time was until sweet, little Chloe came. I haven't used my blow dryer in 2 1/2 weeks because I simply do not have time to take a shower AND blow dry my hair. It air dries, then about 7 hours later I frantically use my straightener to tame down the frizzy waves of bland brown nastiness to make it seem like I have all the time in the world. My makeup bag has been in the passenger seat of the car for months. Sometimes I almost leave the house without my bra. But really, like you can tell whether I wear one or not these days! And my house? HA!!!!! Between getting Lillie out the door for school, breakfast, feed the baby, get the whole family dressed, brush everyone's tiny little teeth, clean up from breakfast, feed the baby, start to unload the dishwasher, make lunch, get Lillie from the bus, clean up from lunch, help Lillie with homework, read a book to Jack, feed the baby, finish unloading the dishwasher, help the kids clean up their toys, start defrosting chicken for dinner, start putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher, sweep, check the mail, change a million more diapers, clean up more toys, continue putting more dishes in the dishwasher, then feed the baby.... the house looks the exact same as when Dustin left 9 hours earlier.
My life has turned from accomplishing large tasks that I can check off at the end of the day to more humbling, tiny moments that are much more impacting. I am their mother. They know I'm here for them and that I love them with all my heart. I'm here when Lillie get's off the bus and breaks into tears because she didn't have anyone to play with at recess that day. I'm here when Jack falls and needs a Band-aid or to help him get his foot unstuck from his laundry basket (that happened today). I'm here to respond to Chloe's little coos and sounds and to reassure her that when she needs me, she can trust that I'll always respond promptly with love and concern. I'm here to receive silly cards and pictures and laugh with them when they draw me a picture of Daddy wearing a tutu. My kids know I'm on their side. They hear me pray for them by name and see my smile when they wake up each morning. I'm no different than any other mother, we all do this. My life isn't glamorous and my bangs are long overgrown and I can't shop in odd number sizes anymore, but giving of your whole self to your family is more rewarding than what the rest of the world has to offer.
Three children changes everything. When I could still feel our third baby gently kicking me inside, I thought about what my life was going to be like with three. A midst the excitement, I had interrupting thoughts about how in the world I was suppose to get everything done that needed to be done and still find time to give each child enough attention. How was I ever going to go grocery shopping again, or go to the post office, read a book, or get to church on time? If I could go back, I would tell myself to not worry. Somehow there is time to do everything. You give up what is meaningless and what profits nothing of real, eternal value and you just do it. Sometimes that involves a can of Dr. Pepper and a box of thin mints you apparently ate all by yourself in two days, but you do it.
I always want to love all of our children with my whole being and whole heart. I always want to overflow them with confidence and security. I want all three of our children to always know how much they were wanted and how many prayers and tears were offered to get them down here with us. I want our children to know how lucky we feel that we get to be their parents. I want to teach them, learn from them, celebrate with them, cry with them, and experience every tiny piece of life together. I clean our house to give our children a home that is clean, peaceful, and inviting of the spirit. I make dinners with broccoli and green beans so we can be healthy and live full, long lives. I try to teach our children about where they came from, who loves them, and how they can choose to make choices that lead to fulfilling happiness or misery. I braid their hair, teach them to read, take them to church, sing to them, and love, love, love them. There is an eternal purpose tucked back behind everything I do. I want to be with them forever.
Whether you have 1 baby, or 3, or 7, you do it all for them. So, thank you #3 for opening my eyes and teaching me what it's really all about.
