Let me preface this post with a little something something. If you are not into sarcasm or laughter at the expense of your current family’s life status just skip this one. Don’t talk to me about *choosing joy.* I love my life. I love my people. And both of those are currently ludicrous. I can choose joy and sarcasm. WATCH ME. xoxo
Hi, welcome. So we have three 3 year olds. No, they aren’t triplets. But they’re all three and they all look alike. So, yes they’re basically triplets. All three were adopted internationally. We have been a family of five stateside for three whole weeks. It is a kind of insane that I did not know existed. And yes, my hands are full. They are so full. My heart is full too and whatever BUT MY HANDS ARE ACTUALLY SO FULL.
I’m not sure how normal people transition up in number of kids but we basically went from this:
To this overnight:
Let’s get something out of the way first. No one tells you about the three year old. I heard all about the terrible twos but three. My God, laughs in the actual face of “the terrible twos.” And yes, that is in quotation marks because contrary to popular belief it’s not really a thing. Like, try again. Whoever invented that phrase should be fired. If you think two is terrible (and I thought it was really really hard) BRACE YOURSELF, SISTER. And so when we were like, three 3 year olds? Sounds crazy for sure but at least we’d be done with the two’s…. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL.
People want to know all the time “so what’s it really like?” And Dustin and I often times just stare back at people like this:
Like, hi, you want to know what now? Can you ask the question differently? I don’t understand. *scratches head*
Having three three year olds is like managing a three year old fight club.
RULE: You do not talk about FIGHT CLUB.
2nd RULE: You DO NOT talk about FIGHT CLUB.
3rd RULE: If someone says “stop” or goes limp, taps out the fight is over.
4th RULE: Only two guys to a fight.
5th RULE: One fight at a time.
6th RULE: No shirts, no shoes.
7th RULE: Fights will go on as long as they have to.
8th RULE: If this is your first night at FIGHT CLUB, you HAVE to fight.
Like, this is me by 7 am:
I made the mistake of saying out loud that we take toys away and put our kids in time out, and people were all whyyyyyyy??? And I was just like…
Nope. I do not have time to explain my life to you. BYE NEXT.
Let’s not forget that two of ours don’t speak any English. I drive by horses and one of ours shouts “MOMMY! ELEPHANT!” One time they pointed at George Washington and thought it was their grandmother. I have one who points at their belly button and says “elbow.” They jibber jabber away all day long to my unfortunate inability to understand what they’re saying. So we basically sit around all day looking at each other like this:
Like, yeah, no I didn’t catch that. Can you say it a different way? No? Okay.
All three of ours are in diapers right now. Mainly because I frequently walk into the bathroom and find a child doing something to the tune of this while on the potty:
Like, why? Just stop it. I cannot even. We’ll stick with diapers. Thanks so much. We change something close to 100 diapers a week. So please don’t talk to me about things like the environment right now. We are single handedly killing it, I’m well aware.
I have walked into so many rooms of my house because someone is always *missing* and been exactly like:
Why are you eating the blinds!?
Why have ALL of the air vents been picked up out of the floor!?
Where did you find nails and why are they in your mouth!?
IS THAT POOP!?
How did you climb up the wall and rip down the actual decor that was hanging up!?
Why are you acting like the tv is a punching bag!?
Why do you have a knife!?
Why is the bath running!?
Why are you licking the walls!?
Why is there pee all over the floor!?
Why are you trying to stick something pointy in the electrical outlet!?
This is Dustin and I during the dinner/bath/bedtime hour(s):
Jesus be near. See you on the other side. Loveyoumeanit.
Dustin and I sit around at night like this because did we really just make it through another day alive?
And so when someone asks me “what’s your day like?” I find myself doing this.