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1 vs. 3

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I read this on a website called MomSquawk earlier today while googling for something else. I thought it was incredibly indicitive of our life here!

Baths with one child: Thorough cleaning, relaxing, playtime. Maybe you even bathe with your kiddo.
Baths with two kids: Every other night, splashfest, mop up the floor once they’re in bed.
Baths with three kids (older two together, baby alone): Eh, you don’t reek from where I’m standing. It can wait another night.

Mealtime with one child: Nutritionally perfect meals, little mouth and hands wiped after every few bites.
Mealtime with two kids: Take it or leave it. Runs for the camera instead of a napkin when spaghetti face happens.
Mealtime with three kids: If I start a food fight, maybe you can aim for each other’s mouths?

Storytime with one child:
I would never dream of skipping a page of any of your favorite three books every night!
Storytime with two kids: Dr. Seuss gets creatively edited here and there; you pray the kids don’t pick up on it.
Storytime with three kids: You can recite One Fish, Two Fish in your sleep (and occasionally do). You sometimes dream of a place with lovely padded walls where not everything rhymes in singsong cadence.


5 responses »

  1. i still say the best contraceptive measure for teenagers/twenty-somethings is having to spend one day as a mum of 3 or more 😉

    i guess it’s of some comfort to find out you’re not ‘alone’ out there huh? 😉


  2. The only child I have raised is myself. 🙂

    I am a little OCD about cleanliness, but I can still enjoy a good fight.

    My night time dreams (fantaisies) have changed a bit from my childhood. 🙂

    There are some people who cliam I belong behind padded walls.

  3. Please! Please! Read to me & mama!!

  4. ha haahaaa! i only have one kid, but i still laughed hard!

  5. Even with one child it’s hard to play supermom. Or even attempt to keep up with those that resemble supermoms.

    Mines more of a pitiful memory thing. I swear these days my life looks like this….if I don’t set an alarm for it on my phone, it ain’t happening. And even THAT isn’t full proof. Sometimes we are just busy and Tate doesn’t get a shower, sometimes I accidentally shut off my oh so helpful alarm, and sometimes I’m just plain worn out from the day and I tell myself, “he didn’t even break a sweat today, he’s not a stinky 15 year old, he’s good.” I have perspective in things like that the nagging thing is do I let myself feel guilty about it later or not? At the end of the day I just try to do the best that I can with whatever kind of day I’ve had.

    Mealtimes are always interesting with a seven year old that thinks he’s a food critic.

    Storytime? What’s that? Never been good at it. But ever since he’s learned how to read I’ve found I actually enjoy the process of teaching him all these new words and he gains such a sense of pride in that. We’re getting better.

    Really I just try and weigh everything out and not let that scale get too out of balance in either direction. There’s not much in this world that’s actually WORTH getting stressed out about, my take on it at least. At hey, what keeps me grounded most is asking myself “Is Tate a happy child?” Absolutely! Wish you could see him! And “does he feel loved?” Without a doubt. He’s lucky to not have to share our attention with anyone else. God knew exactly what He was doing giving us an only child.

    Am I perfect parent? No where near it. But every day I strive to do better, to the best of my ability. And I think that’s all we can really ask for anyhow.


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