Oh hi. So it's been a while. For some reason I got the urge to blog today. I was in the garage working out while the baby napped and the big kids were at camp and I was considering updating my Facebook status with what basically amounts to a blog post. And here it is.
I should bring you up to speed (if there are any of you left). The aforementionted baby is probably the biggest news. My water broke on Mother's day morning, I opted to go to brunch and have two mimosas (judge away) before checking into the hospital (thrid baby, hello!?!) and five minutes after Mother's Day Finley Scott (that's her up there) entered our lives. She's perfection. Just like the big kids. There's a lot of background, like why we decided to have a third, how the kids are handling it, my pregnancy, how I forgot that breast feeding is a full time job, all of that, that if I continue to blog I will share. But if not, just know that six weeks in we've hit a stride and things are good.
But on having a third kid. I was reflecting today while I stood in the kitchen at 4pm staring at breakfast dishes still on the counter, a pile of Pokemon cards, bills, junk mail and a passy. I was (and still am) unshowered and wearing my second pair of workout pants of the day, and had just gotten home from an unsuccessful hunt for shorts that fit my 'fourth trimester' ass. I could have melted. My post first or post second baby self might have melted. But I didn't. I didn't cry. I didn't flip out. I didn't even do the dishes. It'll all get done eventually. I'm zen. Obviously. Or my priorities have undergone a major shift in the last six weeks. Either way, it's all good, and probably really good for my Type A self.
But what I've noticed about being a Mom of three is that everything I do accomplish in a day feels like a major victory. Major.
Got a shower? I deserve a ribbon. Got a workout in before the shower? Blue ribbon. Everyone was where they needed to be when they needed to be there without any help from my amazing village? Someone make me a cake. Went to the grocery store with all three kids and no one died or cried? I deserve a damn ticker tape parade.
I'm sure this will wear off and I will no longer desire high fives from complete strangers for bathing three kids and getting them in bed before 8, but until then I'll celebrate the victories (albeit small ones) and let the rest of it go. It'll all get done eventually.
The last time I blogged was April of 2013. So don't get too excited (Dad).