A few minutes later we hear the baby cooing good morning to herself. He goes downstairs to watch cartoons as I slowly get dressed and make my way down the hall. I peak in her crib and she smiles so big I forgive her for the sleepless night. We snuggle and stare at each other as I nurse her.
The silence is broken by a squeaky voice singing the "ABC's" from the next room. I change the baby's diaper, and lay her on the floor with toys as I make my way to her 2 year old sister's room. I take a deep breath outside her door and remind myself to be patient. I'm usually walking on egg shells to keep this girl happy all day, and it starts right now.
I open the door and say, "Hi princess! How did you sleep?" as cheery as I can possibly sound as to not upset her-highness. She proceeds to show me that her diaper is off and there's pee all over her bed. We get her cleaned up and dressed. Then un-dressed and dressed again when she decides she doesn't want this pink shirt, she wants her Minnie Mouse shirt, and her Elsa dress-up dress on. Don't forget the crown.
I gather the baby up and hold the princess' hand (if I let go the screams commence) as we make our way downstairs for breakfast. Luckily, Batman is sitting quietly watching tv.
The baby in her swing and the kids on the couch, I grab the oatmeal out of the cupboard and hear behind me "Pop tart?!" "Pop tart?!" "Yeah mom, we want pop tarts!". I think about it for 2 seconds and decide I would rather avoid the fight and give them what they asked for, reminding myself that I would really like to be better at not feeding them processed junk. I will cut up an apple to go with it.
One likes his pop tart cold, the other likes hers warm. But keep reminding her it's hot when it first is on her plate, even though she'll touch it anyway. He likes "red milk" (soy milk), she'll only drink almond milk. Once breakfast is served, the baby would like some attention. I try to fix myself something to eat as I hold her. I eat bites in between cleaning up milk spills, answering Batman's 73 questions and tickling the baby. I say, "Eat please" about 15 times and finally give up after I hear, "Mom, done!" for the 100th time.
After cleaning up half-eaten pop tarts and apple peels, we change Princess' costume into Robin per Batman's request. But the red cape won't do! It has to be yellow. I search for a yellow shirt or blanket and tie it on like a cape. "Perfect, mom! Good job!"
As I'm finishing my cold oatmeal, Robin keeps wandering over asking for a "bite?" She eats more of my oatmeal than she ate of her pop tart. After we finish it together, I take them upstairs to play. I shut the gate to their play room and rush downstairs to my tired, crying baby. I sing to her and rock her a little as she drifts off, then lay her in her swing.
I head back upstairs to strip pee-smelled sheets and start the laundry. That's when the fighting starts..."Mine!" "No, mine!". I show them that there are two bunnies so they can each hold one, and remind them that we share and take turns.
I now have a few minutes to myself. Do I have time to shower? I really want to catch up on my Ellen's I have saved. I will shower during nap time. 10 minutes into the show, I hear, "Mom, I'm going poop, ok?!" I yell up, (quietly so the baby doesn't wake) "ok, try and wipe yourself!" But I still go up anyway to make sure he does. As I help him, I remember it's almost time to potty train the princess. We wash our hands and go back to playing and Ellen.
10 minutes later, Robin yells, "Snack! Drink!" I look at the clock and realize it's only been an hour since breakfast, how can she already be hungry? I bring up a cheese stick and some water, noting all the messes they've made, and turn on a Daniel Tiger episode about using the potty. I change the laundry on my way back downstairs. The baby is awake, ready to eat. I finish Ellen as she nurses.
"Mom! It realllly stinks up here! She pooped!" After changing the baby, I go upstairs to change Robin, who is now Cinderella. Batman is now the prince and asks me to help him tie on his cape. They want to watch Cinderella so they can act it out. I agree they can watch one more show. I play with the baby and fold laundry while watching them dance around to "So This is Love." My eyes are so tired, but I love watching them play and be creative. I smile at how cute they are.
As I change the laundry load again, they are getting bored of Cinderella. I ask if they would like to play outside in the little pool. "Yay! Outside!" After getting sun screen, swim suits and hats on, they head outside. I rock the baby to sleep while watching them from the screen door. I lay her down and head outside to watch them and play with bubbles. "Ew! Bugs!" he yells from his playhouse and rushes out. "Ew! Bugs!", she repeats because she has to copy everything he does. I blow bubbles for them while they fight over who gets to pop them. It doesn't matter if I show them that taking turns is more efficient, they still insist on chasing/pushing/screaming to get to the bubbles first. I put the bubbles away and they are ready to come inside now. I beg them for a few more minutes since they are wet and it took so long to get them ready. But they're hungry again. I guess I can start lunch a little early.
They dry off with towels on the family room floor as I make some sandwiches. After I've spread the peanut butter, but before I've spread honey, the baby wakes up a little early from her nap. I give her a binky and pat her back to sleep. Back downstairs, he's eaten half his peanut butter, no honey sandwich. After scolding him and a little time out, I let him finish it as is, and I finish making hers. She says, "Thank you, mom!". If I don't respond right away she says it again and again, getting angrier and angrier, until I say, "You're welcome!". I get them some yogurt, reminding myself that they've already had a cheese stick today and hopefully this isn't too much dairy since they're sensitive.
Another 73 questions are asked by him at lunch time and she keeps asking for "dip?!". Nothing she's eating goes with dip so I give her a little hummus with carrots. He wants hummus too. They use their carrots as dipping sticks and lick the hummus off. I remind them to please eat the carrots too, as I make myself lunch.
"Mom, I love you a thousand, million, trillion. To heaven, back to earth, up to the moon, down to the park and back to our house!" "Wow, honey! That's a lot. I love you a million bazillion and around the world a thousand times."
After we eat I tell them to go get some coloring books and I put on some music. They sing along and do more dancing then coloring. The baby wakes up and starts her cycle over.
Eat. Change. Play. Sleep.
It's finally nap time/quiet time. Aurora goes to bed with little resistance, but Captain America doesn't want quiet time! I tell him if he plays quietly in his room for 45 mins, he can play on the iPad after that. He agrees, but most of the 45 minutes are spent asking, "How much longer?".
He takes the iPad to his room to play Jake and the Neverland Pirates, and I get the baby to sleep. I snuggle with her on my chest, smelling her milk breath and stroking her silky skin for a few minutes, thinking my other two were JUST this small. I would like to close my eyes and drift off too, but I need to take a shower and do some dishes.
I check on Captain America after I'm finished and tell him he has 5 more minutes to play on the iPad. I do some online shopping for my little brother's wedding, and think about going to the gym later so I can feel better in my bridesmaid dress.
We practice sight words and reading for a while, and then dad comes home from work. Once daddy's home I get to rest for a bit. But usually instead of sleeping I make lists in my head of all I need to do, things I can do better, etc. I wake up to Spider-Man and Queen Elsa fighting about something in the play room, and get angry at myself after realizing it's been an hour and I only slept 10 mins.
The baby wakes up too. Eat. Change. Play.
We load everyone up in the car to run errands and go grab some things from Target. We get the big cart so there's room for all three kids, but somehow only one ends up sitting in it. We manage to make it out after only a few tantrums and cave-ins to buy ONE treat. The baby is exhausted but won't fall asleep in her car seat so I rock her as the kids watch a movie in the parked car.
We get home and start dinner. The kids run around wildly, despite our scolds and asking them to slow down. Eventually one gets hurt and we clean up their cut/scratch and the bandaid usually makes it all better. While playing we get a glimpse of their sweet sides as they take a break from playing to give us hugs and say, "I love you."
The baby has had a fussy evening (I wonder if it's because of something I ate, and start making lists in my head of foods to avoid) and our arms are sore from rocking her.
We take turns holding her and helping the others through dinner. "I don't like red sauce. It's sgusting!". "I don't like red sauce. It's sgusting!" (From the squeakier voice.")
After helping them take bites and finish their "sgusting" pasta and veggies, it's bath time. Divide and concor, he takes the older ones, I take the baby. The baby smiles and splashes and squeals with delight, and I smile and laugh back. In a few short years, she'll probably cry when I pour water on her head, just like her sister.
We meet up for books and prayers. They request "The Foot Book" again, because they love the way dad acts it out with their feet. We do it again, because we love hearing their laughs. (We have to read it twice so both their feet get a turn.)
Their prayers are usually pretty short. "Thank you for my Spider-Man costume. Please bless we can all use the potty."
After kisses and hugs it's time for bed, and we tuck them in. I tell them I love them and to sleep good. Thinking about all the times I've scolded them that day, and hoping they still love me too.
I nurse the baby and lay her down, but it sometimes takes a few times before she stays sleeping. When she's finally asleep, we are exhausted from the day. Sometimes going to sleep soon after. As I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I reflect on our day.
I ran up and down the stairs so many times. He had three time outs, she had two. I raised my voice too many times. And I ask myself,
Are they healthy enough? Am i disciplining them correctly? Do they drink too much juice? Should I have taken him to get stitches for that cut? Is she happy, even though she's stubborn and throws countless tantrums? Do they watch too much TV? Is she sleeping/eating enough and reaching proper milestones?
Every day I ask myself if I'm doing it right. And sometimes I fix something or change the way I do things.
But usually our day goes like this anyway, and we are still all happy and love each other when we go to bed.
Being a mother is an amazing job. I'm a chef, a painter, a doctor, a magician, a taxi-cab driver, a singer/dancer, a seamstress, and a teacher. I'm so much more than what I would be without them. It's worth every hard second.
I fall asleep eventually and celebrate when the baby only wakes up once in the night to eat. And then 6:32 a.m. comes, and we start over.
