.........and finally you get a moment.
Baby is sleeping.
Big sisters have a snack and are currently being entertained by Sesame Street.
conditions. are. perfect.
Then with a head full of shampoo, well, errr- baking soda- the door opens and you hear "Mommy. I have to go potty." You peek around the curtain and see your well potty trained-or-so-you-thought 3 1/2 yr old standing there in the hallway in a puddle of pee. You call her into the bathroom to undress & get a towel to go cover her pee while you *try to* finish quickly just as you hear them--- tiny toddler feet running down the hallway and....
There lies Catie-bug.
In Gabbi's pee.
...and suddenly, your peaceful 10mins alone
are crowded by two others in worse need of bathing.
They get in the shower & you hop out for towels to dry them up, and clothes to get them dressed when you hear the inevitable::: Baby starts crying. So it's a *how fast can I possibly get this done* race to at least get a diaper on Catie & panties on Gabbi.
Ok. Not so bad. No one was hurt or scarred- except maybe Mommy.
Get a phone call.
Relay to friend the chaos of the morning.
No sooner do you finish that story, when the 20 month old dumps Big Sister's milk from breakfast all in Baby's car seat.
I'm gonna miss these day.
So how has it been adjusting to three? Well, some days (like those listed above) I just gotta laugh to keep from crying.
An extra set of hands would be nice.
And it's amazing how just one more child can make your home seem a thousand times smaller... I find myself daydreaming of a bigger home. Ugh discontentment. I hate it.
Laundry stays piles for days at a time, and the bathroom goes longer than I'd care to admit without being cleaned. My house is a wreck, but it's not *dirty*. My kids are in PJs most of the day, but they're loved.
Yeah my hands may be full.... but so is my heart.