This post may contain affiliate links. Please see my Disclosure statement for more details.
(You can read about his birth here.)
I can’t begin to describe the joy Joshua has brought into our lives in the past almost-five months. He is a wildly happy baby with an enormous grin that enchants everyone around him.
He was very unexpected. We intended to wait until David was at least 3 before we had a third child. But God knew us and our family. I don’t know if we would ever have had a third on our own timing. So I am grateful for the unexpected blessing of our precious Joshua and the light he brings to our family.
But these past months have been so, so difficult. I feel like every day I have a to-do list of 5762759 things to do and I get two of them done. Maybe. My mellow David has taken to having screaming fits at all times of the day and night. Libbie’s need for constant attention goes from adorable to maddening. From “please do a craft with me” to pummeling her brother and screaming at him. She tries to control and make rules for absolutely every situation. David gets confused as to whether he is supposed to follow her rules or not. There is much yelling and hitting between the two of them.
And given that Mr. V and I haven’t slept much in about a month doesn’t help with the whole parenting thing.
Right now it is hard. The less sleep I get the more my depression creeps up. The less I want to parent the more I know I need to before Tiny Terrorists take over our home.
The summer has been good and bad. Having Mr. V home all the time is priceless with a baby this young. But being unscheduled is very difficult for our extroverted Libbie. Which makes her all the more restless and loud and obnoxious some days.
The good times, they are so sweet. Collecting all my babies on my lap to read stories. Watching Libbie have dance shows and sing long, made-up songs. Holding a tiny hand in the store. Nursing a half-asleep infant with his hand resting on me, staking his territory. All the happy laughs and tickles and declarations from Libbie that “this meat is the goodest!”
But some days I am terrified that I am doing everything wrong, that we haven’t spaced out these kids enough and they will hate us and each other and God.
And when one of them wakes up wailing in the middle of the night, I just want to hide under my bed until they stop.
There have been days lately where I’ve considered quitting everything. No more blogging, no more writing, no more social media. These three little ones need me SO much and I need and want to be there for them. Some days lately I’ve neglected all other responsibilities to play on the floor, do puzzles, play trains, color, do crafts. And it’s wonderful.
But writing is my heart, it’s in the depth of my soul. I know once Libbie’s in preschool at the end of the month, once Joshua starts sleeping more, I’m going to be more myself again. I will be able to get up early, seek the Lord, get some of the tasks out of the way.
Right now the days just seem so. very. long. And I am tired of tears. Mine and theirs.
I’m always hesitant to post something like this. I hope you know that I absolutely love and adore my kids and would never want to scare off anyone from having many small children! Anne Bogel brought this post from Camp Patton to my attention, and YES. I want you to know that your kids are not the only crazy ones as much as I want to know that I am not the only mom struggling. I wouldn’t trade these three sweet things for all the free time in the world.