So last night as we were getting the kids ready for bed Abishai decided it was an opportune time to have a “shart” blow up all over himself.  We immediately declared a state of emergency and rushed him to the tub because it was clearly a “seeper.”  He clearly thought the incident was way funnier than I did but I must admit I appreciated the sweet smiles while I was elbow deep.  After getting him cleaned up and out of the tub I was searching around for a diaper and some clean clothes for him and got distracted with some life or death need (a bow for Evy’s hair….yeah).  I should have known better than to get side tracked but when I finally reached for the diaper I noticed a stream.  Yep, took me a minute to realize that naked boy was peeing all over me.  His little hose quickly took aim at the clean AND folded pile of laundry sitting on the bed. So, that was awesome.  Jason just looked at me and we both started laughing.  At least we can see the humor in this ridiculousness (most days).

I figured it was time to update on this whole life with 3 gig.  I have become that mama who rarely has time to both shower AND dry my hair AND put on any make-up.  You have to choose carefully people. These watoto now completely outnumber us and there seems to never be a moment during the day where no one has a seemingly life threatening need. I feel like I am constantly multitasking but not really doing anything well.  But I’m trying to live in the letting go.  Being released of my desire to “get things done” is freeing.  In those moments when I don’t care about the peas on the floor, the unanswered emails, and the endless to-dos I can enjoy the moment by moment chaos much more.  It is when I can embrace that this life is mundane, mind numbingly repetitive but fabulous and fleeting and going by too quickly.  I can actually appreciate the right now and not long for the past or the future.

So much has changed with the addition of our little homeboy. When we go out, especially in this neighborhood, people generally stare and think we are crazy.  Which would be offensive if we were not.  But alas.  Seriously though what is up with folks always commenting, “wow, you have your hands full,” or “you sure look busy.”  Why, yes, thank you, that comment is much more helpful than, say, opening the door for our cray cray caravan.  Sheesh. I do not need strangers stating the obvious. I know we are on the crazy train.
The girls’ love their brother and it mostly irritates me. I know I should try to remember how sweet it is that they love to squeeze him and love on him but when I finally get him settled or asleep or quiet they see that as an excellent opportunity to pester him.  They love him so much that I have made a house rule that if the baby is happy and quiet you are not allowed to touch him or bother him. Seriously, why is it so necessary to go squeeze his face when he is sound asleep in the swing?  I also overheard them arguing over which part of his baby sweetness they were going to eat (Anni said she wanted his chubby arms and Evy wanted his face but suggested we throw his butty away “cuz it filled with nasty poop.” True story). I might need to lay off the “I want to eat him” talk.  I know it is weird but backed up with science!

Also, can I just say we will never be on time again. I was never really an “on time” person even before moving to Africa and living there certainly did not help but even when I really try there is always some emergency situation right before we walk out the door.  And I also blame winter and the heinous monster that apparently lurks somewhere in our home and eats mittens, gloves, hats, and all matter of gear because every time I ask the girls to get ready they suddenly realize everything is “gone.” I have just resigned that maybe sometime next decade we will be on time because I will not spend my time hollering at the kids just so we can be  few minutes early. It is too much so we are late. A lot.

There are of course sweet, sweet moments.
Case in point.
But this life with 3 is not for the faint of heart. I feel like since I have already lost any semblance of sanity long ago I can cope.  Thank goodness God’s grace is enough everyday. I just have to remember to repent from believing that my worth is based on how well I hold it together. I fail. I yell. I cry. I hide in the bathroom.  I lose my patience.  I want to run away but thank God my worth in Christ is not based on my performance as a mother.  As a mama our work is never “finished” but Jesus’ work on the cross is and while we try to chase perfection He smiles and reaches out to us again and reminds us “it is finished.”  He is always with me, in me, beckoning me to rest in His grace and allowing that to seep in changes my heart, attitude, actions, and mind.  Even on the crazy days I don’t feel or see it He is working.  That promise changes everything about mothering. There are no perfect mamas but His love is perfect and we can all rest in that today.

  1. Anonymous says:

    I hear you on the 'you have your hands full' comment. I used to get that a lot when I was pregnant with our daughter, along with the 'are you hoping for a girl?' as if that would make a difference. :-)I went to my class reunion last summer for the first time ever and every.single.person asked if I had kids and how many. And every.single.person freaked out when I answered. When our baby was born, I felt like it triggered a 'everyone-needs-mom-all-at-the-same-time' button, and it has pretty much been that way for the past two years. Our house is chaos, and while I can't say I love the chaos (I've been threatening to buy earplugs for a couple years now), I love my kids and we get by. And we manage to have some fun in the midst of all the chaos.