What's Changed Since Baby #3 Arrived? Everything.

Photo Credit: Don Bringas

It's been three months since my third child arrived and here are a few observations and realities now that mine is a family of five.

1. The world is built for families of four. There are two top tables. There are four top tables. Never do you arrive at a restaurant and find they are putting a two top and three top together for your family. Planes with two seats on one side and three seats on the other side of the aisle aren't designed for a family of five. One parent loses massively when on the three seater side, sandwiched between two children who surely only want the very things you can't reach while the "Fasten Seat belt" sign is on. And it's ALWAYS on. The only thing designed for families of five are minivans.
2. Instead of having one child in the bathroom with me, I now have two. One on my lap. Yes, on my lap. And one who hands me toilet paper. I assure you the toilet paper handler isn't a helper. Just a handler of all things in all bathrooms. 
3. Someone is always sick. Always. The day we brought our third home was the day we learned Hand, Foot and Mouth was going around our son's school. That should have been an indication of what was to come. The day our daughter recovered from a cold we learned our infant had a respiratory infection. The day our son recovered from a 24-hour stomach bug, our daughter had it. And then my husband. And then me. And then my father. And then my mother. And then....well....someone got something else.
4. Books have "lost" pages. And by lost, I mean that when reading to our kids at night, I often "accidentally" turn several pages at a time to shorten a 30 page book into something closer resembling 15 pages because there's still a child who needs something even after two of them are in bed.
5. Chips and a fruit squeezie constitute a meal. 
6. When out in public it's easy to spot which child was the most difficult to get out the door because that's the child who looks homeless or at the very least, not particularly cared for.
7. "The two of you need to work things out on your own" lesson has started earlier than our children can comprehend because it's so much more convenient than actually parenting.
8. We throw money at problems. In order to avoid taking our older (he's four) son's kindness and patience for granted, we've started giving him an allowance for helping get his sister ready in the morning. (Follow-up to #6: This is where I have clued you into the fact that she's the one who tends to look the least cared for.)
9. The bar has dropped. And I mean dropped like you when you would do the Limbo and there was just no way you were getting under that stick. Yes, that's the level to which I've lowered the bar of expectations for most things. Instead of failing each day, I tend to over achieve. It's a much better approach to life when outnumbered.
10. At the end of each day, after tucking them in at night, I immediately start to miss them.

Shots Fired. Trust Shattered.

This post is not a political opinion piece, nor does this even scratch the surface of the atrocities and pain of the mass shootings in this country. This post is about my experience as a mother.

Every night, my son's bedtime routine ends with the following questions.

"Is a monster going to come in?"
"Is the smoke detector going to beep?"
"Will you leave my door open a little bit?"
"Will you check on me in one minute?"

My son thrives on routine and embodies some of my neuroses and anxiety, hence the same four questions every night. As of late, I leave his room thinking about the enormity of guilt I have as I reassure him of his safety and yet I'm not in control of it at all. Or at least that's how it feels.

I'm not afraid of  falls, scrapes, bumps, bruises, hurt feelings, time-outs, tears, disappointments and all of the very real things children need to experience to grow. And I don't hesitate before sending my kids to school each day and I don't want to and that's the point.

My three children are young and as someone once said to me, "When your children are young, parenting is hard. When your children are older, parenting is complicated." While I'm sure I won't fully appreciate the brilliance of this statement until my children are older, already, I get what the person meant as we face the conversations with our children about the world we live in.

For my children, it's simple. Their trust in me and their father enables them to try new things without hesitation, to feel safe exploring new places, meeting a new friend or babysitter, to feel safe in a new school or after school program. When we are at the playground and one of the kids hesitates to climb or jump, they look to me or their dad and we either give a knowing nod of reassurance that we know they can do it on their own or we offer words of encouragement for the kids to decide if they want to try it on their own or if they want help. Our kids trust that we will keep them safe --- if we tell them we know they can do something, they don't hesitate. It's one of the most brilliant gifts of parenting young children. But recently, it also feels like a burden.

These young children know nothing of a world that's outside of the "bubble" created for them by us parents. They are privileged to not question if how I dress them will keep them warm. Of course it will. They need not question if they have their lunch. If their school has nice teachers. If they will come home to a nanny they adore and who will ensure a fun filled afternoon of games, play, hugs and kisses. The responsibility of being a parent feels enormous when things happen in this world that force us to accept that no matter how hard we work at creating this "bubble," it inevitably isn't a sustainable existence. And honestly, that's fine. In fact it's good for kids to know something about the real world. It's why donating toys and food and being involved in community activities is something we value enormously. It's one of the easiest ways for us to humble our kids. But when it comes to bursting the proverbial bubble, how in the hell do we do it without terrifying our children about the world we live in.

My children's entire life depends upon and is built around a foundation of trust in me and my word and the sense of safety, security and routine that they feel. I understand that I can't ever pretend that we live in a world where I can guarantee their safety at all times. Accidents happen. Things happen. Life happens. But what about when it comes to their safety in the very places they most depend on it, such as school. How do I explain that? God, I don't want to. My heartaches for anyone who has children of an age who ask about school shootings. Or, the horror, have experienced a school shooting.

I'm not paranoid about our world. I'm not afraid of reality. I'm not naive to the fact that I'm privileged to not live in a war zone. But I am a parent and more than that, I am the #1 advocate for my children. My children's lives are only as safe as I am loud in requiring that there not be danger in places where danger should never lurk. Under the bed? No monsters. In the closet? No monsters. At school? We should all be able to confidently say, No monsters.

I don't have an answer for how we end senseless violence. For how we normalize things that should be normal, like going to school and going to the doctor and doing those things without fear. What I do know is that I will raise my voice. I will scream and shout support for those who will help lead us to one. My kids deserve it.

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If you want your voice to be heard, please check out the website for the March  for Gun Safety to join a march near you.