by Jill Burgoyne
So: My baby boy came. He is 17 days old AND he makes me a Momma of three adorable, energetic, intelligent and strong-willed babies. And it is not as bad as I had feared. With all of the horror stories you hear when you are pregnant (there is something about a baby bump that must non-verbally express "please tell me how this pregnancy could go wrong and how this baby will further complicate my life beyond all reason,") I was ready for Armageddon.
I literally stuffed my freezer with frozen chicken nuggets, corn dogs, and pot pies. Ha ha. And they're coming in handy, I'm glad I did, but I was so ready for...my house to fall down or something, but that hasn't happened. I've had support. It's been great. And yesterday was my first all-day alone with three babies. I didn't even realize that, but it was exciting and almost exactly how I pictured it.
It's true, yesterday, I was napotaged. Despite the careful planning and scheduling of feedings, lunch, bedtimes and snacks, the 2 year old decided to try to drop her nap. She sang and cried and cooed for an hour and a half and just as she was getting quiet, the two week old decided to wake up. He kept his schedule though. They timed this all perfectly so that by the time I took care of all needs, it was too late for a nap for any of us and we had to brave our family night full of cranky mischief and screaming conversations...whew.
And yet: we all lived to see another day. Amazing how that works.