I kind of feel like I’m lying to you every time I say that this three-kid thing is going well, because that might lead you to believe that it’s easy.

It’s not.

“It’s going well” is my way of saying “No one, including myself, has been hospitalized yet.” Because seriously — there’s something to be said for that. My days are filled with tomfoolery that would make for some highly entertaining stories … if I had the time to tell them.

The truth is, I can’t even brush my teeth or go to the bathroom without someone doing one (or all) of the following:

1. Crying
2. Beating on the door
3. Screaming “MOMMY!!!” as if there was a knife-wielding burglar in the house
4. Using my absence as an opportunity to drink half and half directly from the carton.

Husband leaves in the morning and it’s just 12 straight hours of relentless chaos until I tuck their little bodies into bed. It’s hard; I’m pushed to my limit every single day. By 4 p.m. I normally start questioning why I had all of these children. By 5 p.m. I’ve HAD IT. I start fantasizing about getting in the van and driving somewhere far away. I start feeling like I can’t possibly deal with another weird issue, seriously, STOP BLOWING YOUR NOSE ON THE FLOOR.

But we muddle through, because I am a God-fearing woman and my God-fearing mother prays for me daily and I really think I must be on several prayer lists somewhere. At 6 p.m. I start the arduous process of bathing them and putting each one to bed in the order of youngest to oldest. After the house is quiet at 8 p.m. and I have a little while to pull myself together, I feel like I can face another day. Maybe. And then, after all of that, Husband comes home. 

Lately I’ve found myself in moments of complete exasperation asking myself or my friends, “Why am I doing this to myself?! How did I get here?! Because this SHIT is BANANAS.”

Thankfully, my exasperation passes and when I can think clearly I know exactly why and how I got to this place. As maddening and chaotic and overwhelming as this situation is, it is equally as magical and hilarious and soul-filling. They are terrible and wonderful creatures, children. They are sucking the life out of us and filling our house with joy all at the same time.

It’s hard to know if what I’m doing every day makes a difference, and I cling to the moments where I see all of the love and work I’m pouring into these kids come back out of them and into their world. Yesterday, Asher peeked under Pepper’s blanket in the car and said, “I wuv you Pepper!” It was so surprising — I had never heard him say that many words strung together — and, of course, cute that I had to pull over and take a picture of it.

I find things like this …

Playing dress up … ?

Trying to make himself as small as his sister.

My kids love each other, and we’re all learning to be patient with everyone including ourselves, and no one ever died of eating too many Eggo waffles. 

I think.

This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 

And it really is bananas.