Friday, May 04, 2007

5/4/07 3's the key

I made a few enlightening discoveries today, of the "well DUH" variety. Three, in fact.

3 kids puts you over the edge. Not the 3rd child in particular, but the combination of the three.

3-year-olds put you over the edge. Even a "good" 3-year-old.

3-hour naps by said 3-year-old keep you teetering on the edge, a milk-spill or pants-pee away from being put over it, but still, just barely still on it. It gets you down from 3 to 2 children for a few hours. And life begins again. And then ends again when said 3-year-old wakes up. Around 3:00, eerily enough.

Usually blogs by people I don't know don't hold much interest for me. But my Mom friends have pointed me to one that is absolutely hilarious:
Dooce. The author is a SAHM (read her bio for a different expansion of that acronym that, unusual for me, I found hysterical) who has a 3-year-old. It was this line from a recent post that Stacey originally pointed me to, that now rings in my head daily: "Three is the opposite of A DISTINCTLY LIKABLE HUMAN BEING." I'm sure I broke a copyright law by "reprinting" that, so I'll point you to the entire text: Acting her age.

Though I'm always compelled to qualify Julian's misdeeds with "at least it's nothing like what Gabriel can dish out," 3 is still his worst phase in life so far, and the worst that any of our 3 are in now. We should be grateful that it's Julian who's in his worst place, not Gabriel, but still. Today's afternoon without Julian gave me a choice insight into why I've been so insane the past few days: it's because of the three-year-old, not the carry-me-all-day baby. Life sure is a lot easier without three (3 children and 3-year-old). I know, I know, life isn't supposed to be easy. But who said it's supposed to be hard?

Julian didn't intend to take a nap today, but he fell asleep during the (get this:) three minute trip picking up Gabriel. So I carried him up to his bed, where he slept soundly, and let me be a mom of 2 for 3 hours. For half that time, Katrina took a nap too, so I was down to one. The first One, in fact. Who, incredibly, despite recent unbearable rudeness and obstinance, now ranks as our easiest one. Of all the three to be the easy one. Gabriel.

So I pinned on my Good Mom badge and sat down and played a game with Gabriel, "Travel Blokus" that one of the boys was given by one of our family members in one of the days during the Christmas-birthday blitz. (My best recollection is that it was from the Engels, or maybe Bonne Maman, and I think it was to Gabriel.) I made a few half-hearted stabs at "teaching moments" during the game, but mostly, I just wanted to interact and play with him. He really enjoyed it. And so did I. And that's what we're here for, right?

After the game, I asked him to "help" me with my closet project, that is creeping along at a snail's pace. My goal had been to finish it during my precious baby-free time this morning, but once again, I was stymied by another dentist appointment, a phone-call-prohibitive excess of Novacaine, and some sort of neck crick that has me sitting like I have a pole up my backside. Yet I managed to finish screwing in shelf supports and slap some paint on them, an important milestone.

Trouble with projects like this is, the more you do, the more you realize needs to get done. And I'm not talking about the closet.


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