Updates, Updates, Updates

So life with three is very, very hard.  I keep telling people that I don't think it's necessarily that I have three kids that makes it hard, it's that I have three kids under the age of three.  It's hard because they are all so little that they are all needy, and I can't meet all their needs at the same time.  In the early weeks I found myself approaching my days with the constant pessimistic thought, "Which kid will I let down today?" because that seemed to be what always happened.  Samantha was priority, with feeding her every two hours and rocking her when she cried, which meant my arms and hands were tied up much of the day, which in turn meant that any time she was asleep apart from my body I was usually holding or tending to one of the other children. 

Ellie is younger and has seemingly more immediate needs, and she also demands more attention from me than Jack does.  She thrives on social interaction and doesn't play real well by herself (unless she's into something she shouldn't be, why is that?).  Jack, on the other hand, will sit for long periods of time by himself, content to play with his trains or color or look at books or run around his diaper-bases in his own fantasy baseball world.  (Not to be confused with Daddy's Fantasy Baseball world.)  So I often found myself at the end of the day realizing I hadn't spent any focused time with Jack, and I battled a lot of guilt over this. 

If I tried hard to focus on each of the kids during the day, I never got ANY housework done.  If I tried too hard to keep up with the dishes and messes and laundry and such, I ended up neglecting at least one of the kids, and my body was also struggling to heal so I had to let go of the housework much of the time, which is fine in principle but in reality it makes an already sleep-deprived and weepy mom more irritated and testy when she's tripping over toys all day and there are no clothes to wear that don't bear a spit-up smell and there are ants all over the kitchen feasting on the crumbs that haven't been cleaned up and the dishes are piling up and there is no counter space left to prepare a meal...and so on.

BUT.  We are at the eight-week mark.  I was feeling pretty good around six weeks, and now the word I would use to describe our life is: stabilizing.  The infancy-induced fog is lifting, routines are forming well; Samantha is on a 3 to  31/2 hour schedule now and is sleeping 10pm-5am, and I'm going to try stretching her to 7am now that she's eight weeks old.  She is finally going down well for naps, with minimal fussing.  I think she's even found her thumb, which definitely aids in her learning to go to sleep on her own.  She's a very happy baby and we always know she is hungry/poopy/tired if she fusses because if she's not one of those three, she is cooing and smiling and sucking on her fingers...what a little gift! 

This sense of routine also helps the other kids, as there is more time with Mommy while Samantha is sleeping.  We've been going for a lot of walks with Daddy after dinner, which we all enjoy, and gives Eric and I time to talk without being interrupted by the kiddos. 

Ellie is in a very defiant stage so we are working through discipline decisions right now.  Trying to be consistent between the two of us, and trying to reevaluate as needed WHY we are making certain choices to be sure they are age-appropriate and suited to her current disobedience.  She is a spunky little thing who loves her sister to pieces and idolizes her brother.  She copies him all the time.  I swear they will soon be holding intelligible conversations because she is so far ahead--I think she'll catch up to Jack soon!  She's already using two word sentences, and has a huge vocabulary.  Some of my favorite words of hers are: duck (any animal is a "duck"), tee-too (thank you), peet (feet), hoh-choo ("hold you", meaning, "hold me!"), Beebee Da (Samantha), Mi Mi (Sammy), pah-ee (potty), preh-ee (pretty), mun-tee (monkey), Heh-dohhhh (hello--only used when talking on her play phone).  Tonight she about melted my heart when she came up to me whimpering and pointing to her foot, saying, "Mommy, ouchie peet!" in the sweetest little voice.  I felt so bad because she did have a big ouchie, but it was the cutest phrase and I kept trying to get her to say it again.  She gives the best hugs; there's something about tiny chubby arms wrapped tightly around your neck that will make your day, no matter how bad the day has been.  Especially when the fingers are covered in marker and smell like graham crackers.

Jack is his sweet self and has generally been doing well; he loves Samantha and is always remarking "So coot!" and loving on her.  Today when she woke up from her nap he went running in, climbed up on the side of her crib, and with a vibrant, "Heh-wow, Santha!" he began inviting her to come play with him, telling her all about his farm animals.  Warms my heart like you wouldn't believe.  We've had a few rough patches with him the past eight weeks as well.  He's had some regression with the potty training, which had us real stumped for awhile.  He started having more and more accidents and seemed to be almost choosing NOT to use the potty.  I've talked to a number of moms and most of them have told me this is a normal phase and just to be patient with him and wait it out.  So that's what we're doing.  He's also been having these horrible night terrors, where he wakes up very suddenly and is screaming and thrashing about and nothing we do or offer calms him down.  It's terrifying for us to watch; it's as if he's having an F-5 tantrum but for no particular reason, as he just emerged from sleep.  They last a long time--sometimes as long as an hour--where the entire time he's screaming, "No! No! Nooo!" and crying and stiffening every inch of his body and rolling around thrashing and kicking on the floor.  I can't take it after awhile and end up wrapping him in my arms while he continues on, but we think this actually ends up helping him calm down in the long run, being held.  Then as suddenly as it began it's over; he stops crying and asks for his ice water and blankie, then says, "All done" and "Bed."  It's bizarre; one time he even stopped screaming and said, "Mommy, hold you, hold you!" even though I'd been holding him for the past half hour.  It's exhausting when you add this in with the nighttime feedings...  But they seem to be less frequent now, maybe 2-3 times a week.  Again, I hear this happens to other kids and that it will "phase out" eventually.  I hope so because it is so awful to watch, you feel so helpless.

Life for me seems to be 1, maybe 2, steps forward, 3 or 4 steps back.  I feel like even with our budding routine I can't stay on top of anything.  I have an enormous list of people I owe thank you notes to, which I feel horrible about.  Laundry rarely sees the inside of a drawers, we're always picking out of baskets, and we're lucky if it's folded.  I can't keep up with email or blogging because the computer is in our bedroom/Samantha's room, so when she's asleep--i.e. my only possible "free time"--I can't do much on here without waking her.  And lame as it is, I am so exhausted that I am having trouble keeping up around the house, so whenever I make a little bit of progress it's hard to stay ahead, as my house never stays clean very long thanks to the little tykes we have roaming around.  (The other day I was making dinner and turned around to find the entirety of my tiny kitchen floor covered in cooking utensils and Ziploc bags.  Talk about a safety hazard, dodging meat tenderizers and pizza cutters while trying not to slip on the plastic baggies...while carrying a pan of hot noodles to the sink...)

While this is a frustrating way to live, I keep trying to tell myself again and again, many times a day even, "This is a phase.  This is a phase.  This is phase..." and then to just let it go, whatever the "it" might be that is causing me so much guilt and/or frustration.  A deep breath has become my friend and ally, the air-conditioner my sanity-saver.  The other thing I look forward to is my Women's Bible Study on Wednesday nights; I treat myself to a Starbuck's coffee on the way and take advantage of every second of time to be without kids and to hold intelligent, encouraging conversation with friends.  It definitely helps rejuvenate me...

I'm hoping to have time this week to post some anecdotes from the past two months, stories that have to be told due to the truly comedic content--a laugh at this tired Mom's expense, if you will.  Snapshots of life with three and the craziness that enfolds on a daily basis; for those of you who are almost there (Amanda, Anne)...well, I don't know whether to warn you or to encourage you to laugh while it's not YOU.  In any case, I'll try to only post one short story at a time as I know my tendency is to go on and on, as evidenced by this post.  One of these days I also hope to post some deeper thoughts, as I have had a few of those lately, too, that have been on my heart to share. 

It's late now.  We need to get to bed in order to get up early enough that we actually make it to church in time for the service, for once.  It's our new pastor's first Sunday, and I'm so excited!  (Eric's singing, too, which means we need to get there early, which is no small feat for our family!)  Thanks for reading and checking in with our family.  Goodnight!