Going It Alone

The beginning of last week was the first time I was at home with all three kids by myself. Whew! I lucked out in one major area - Bella was off of school all week long, so I didn't have to actually get dressed and throw everyone in the car to take her to school. That was a big lifesaver!

 

When we were pregnant, I was told over and over that it was so much easer to transition from two kids to three kids than it was to go from one to two. My personal opinion so far: I completely disagree. With two, usually only one of them was losing their minds at a time, or only one of them desperately needed me at once. With three, it still that same situation, except someone threw a newborn in my arms who insists on nursing every two hours (or more), and prefers to sleep while being held. (I mean, who doesn't?) How is that easier??? More is always harder!!! (Unless you're the Duggars and your older kids can babysit the younger ones, but I think we can all agree that Bella is not mentally competent to handle a newborn.)

 

For the most part, my days were about give and take. For example, on Monday, I managed to make dinner from scratch, but our bedroom looked like an A-bomb went off. The next day, I tried to do a few loads of laundry, but the rest of the house was destroyed and stayed that way until the weekend. We did a lot of Netflix, and a lot of asking the girls to wait until I was done feeding Henry. But we survived! And I wasn't crying when Steve came home! (I did eat an unhealthy amount of brownies, but that was glorious, so no regrets there.)

 

 

Netflix and Amazon Prime were my best friends! I also did a lot of reading books to the girls while nursing Henry. It was harder than I thought it would be to turn pages with only one hand...

 

Okay, so yes, he looks chubby and divine, but I need him to be a little less gassy and a little more willing to sleep without being touched. I'm just saying, it'd be nice. No pressure, kid.

 

I was all proud for making chicken pot pie for dinner on Monday night, and then the kitchen looked like this for two straight days.

 

The playroom. Umm...yep.

 

My wonderful husband came home each afternoon and was ready to dive in and rescue me! My "me time" each night, was letting Steve do the bedtime routine with the girls while I ran down the street to the gas station and got myself an unsweet tea. My man rocks!