Thursday, September 3, 2015

A day in the life.

For a while now, random people see me juggling three children under the age of three at the grocery, and joking say "You ought to write a blog!" I usually laugh and walk away. But here recently, I have thought to myself, why not? Why not write a blog? What's one more thing to do? I spend my days talking baby talk and wiping boogers, and I really need an outlet. So, after months of consideration, I have decided to document my life as a wife, mom, couponer, and a self proclaimed painter (painting furniture is 'thang').

So to begin, I'll give just a glimpse of my life looks like on a typical day:

 I start my day just like anyone else. I hear a screaming baby at 6:30 am, make a bottle, put on a cup of coffee, and scroll through social media. My oldest usually wakes up the minute my butt hits the chair. I make her cereal (because who has the energy to make eggs at 6:45 a.m.), and we talk about what she dreamed about. By then, my middle child usually wakes up. Screaming. Every single morning. The poor child probably suffers from some kind of middle child syndrome and feels like he lacks attention. I promise you that he does not. I fix his toast, kiss his sweet smelling cheeks, and officially begin the day. 

After breakfast, I clean up the aftermath, then begin my daily chores, you know, the laundry, dishes, sheets, etc. This is my favorite part of the day because I get to use my "homemaker skills." From the time I was a little girl, all I have ever wanted to be was a stay at home mom and wife. I get a high from the smell of clean clothes, a thrill from seeing an empty dishwasher, and I absolutely love to see vacuum marks in the carpet. Weird? Maybe, but I like to call it my "calling." 

Once my bathroom smells like a field of lilies (this a really generous analogy, most days the bathroom definitely does smell like that) , I sit down and hold a baby. Any baby. All babies. It doesn't matter, I just want my arms to be filled with the sweet aroma of Juicy Juice and Cheerios. Elmo is what we watch. Everyday. Every. Day. "What's the letter of day?"

And then there's lunch. Lunch time is like halfway mark of the day. It's not really, but I like to pretend. I make a sandwich, throw a few slices of fruit on the plate, fill a juice cup, and call it gourmet. This is when I sit down, say the blessing, and enjoy my little people. My oldest tells stories, my middle steals chips, and my baby enjoys a jar of sweet potatoes. Lunch time is the reason why my carpet is stained. And to be honest, I love it. 

NAP TIME. My whole world revolves around nap time. Two hours of pure silence. What a beautiful thing. 

After naps, I start dinner. I love this time. I love to cook and to cook for the ones I love. I make dinner early because of my husbands work schedule, so eating dinner at 4 p.m. is the norm. This is also the time when I can use my multitask skills to the max. I can feed a screaming baby, fill a juice cup, change the batteries out of a toy, and cut up chicken like you wouldn't believe. Oh yeah, and find the husband's lost pair of socks. 

After dinner is 'outside time.' Another favorite part of the day. Although I hate outside, this is when I can sit and look at my social media without answering a million questions: Who's that? What's that? Can I have one? I do, however, have keep an eye on the sneaky middle child that tends to run and hide. But like all supermoms, I can multitask.'s bath time. Bath time is a whole day in itself. I would rather go to the dentist than to bathe my three children. I haven't mastered it, so people are screaming, crying, and running around naked. The giggles are sweet and the pictures are cute, but I probably wont miss bath time when they are older. I'm looking forward to the days of saying "Go take a shower." 

Finally comes my very very very favorite part. I call it "winding down." We have a bedtime snack, pile up in my bed, and cuddle. I LOVE IT. All these tiny humans loving on me, what's not to love? 

I go to bed. And do it all over again the next day. 

Even though some days are filled with whining, crying, begging, and spilt milk, this is my joy. I can not picture myself doing anything other than rocking babies and changing diapers. 

My cup runneth over because the Lord has surely been good to me. 

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