Remember that week that the two toddlers had a stomach bug and the baby was her usual spit-uppy self — so by Thursday, all three children had thrown up on me? Oh yeah, and the dog pee’d on her dog bed? And the cat threw up in the garage — twice?
Oh wait — that week is NOW.
I’m on my second cup of coffee. Which is really like my fifth cup, because it’s this huge, Starbucks mug with the word HAWAII printed on the side. The ceramic is smooth and warm and sits nicely in the cradle of my palms while I watch a little morning Barefoot Contessa on The Food Network.
I did manage to shower several times this week and have successfully rotated my Uniform of Victoria Secrets sweatpants and hoodies.
It’s the uniform of the season. And the “season” that I’m speaking of is not Fall — though it is nice to be all bundled and comfy-cozy inside on a rainy Fall day — but the “season” of “3 babies, 3 and under.”
Someday I’ll be in the season of preteen girls who want to shop at Justice and wear UGGs.
And then it’ll be the season of teenagers who think it’s fun to jump from really high places onto bed mattresses.
And then someday, the season of oh-my-goodness, my babies are having babies and my ears and nose keep getting bigger.
[Sidenote: did you know your ears and nose never stop growing?]
But truth be told, I really like the chaos of this season. It’s like a marathon — exhausting, surprising, redundant, exhilarating, and rewarding — all at the same time. But when you get those breaks? Those moments of calm where you can drink from extra-large coffee mugs and watch The Food Network and thumb through Nana’s old Southern Living cookbooks? Those are especially sweet.
Then they come running back in the room — yelling “Mama! Mama!” — with chubby little fingers and rosy cheeks and arms-wide-open asking for hugs. And the quiet gives way to a flooding of noisy love — and really, that’s even sweeter.