Panic

So, within the past couple of weeks I have had numerous people tell me how hard the transition is from two kids to three. I'd previously thought that one to two was the big change, and since that was pretty easy for us, I assumed that having one more to the mix would be no problem. Now I am panicking.

Probably because Jake and Grace have been participating in a Mommy Insanity contest, each of them neck and neck in causing me to lose the few marbles I have left. The other morning I heard the kids playing/engaging in a riot, capped off with a SCREAM from our lovely daughter. Matt thinks that the car alarm that went off simultaneously was coincidence, but I beg to differ. At the same moment, the baby started playing hacky sac with my bladder, and I began to question our reasoning: we are going to be outnumbered!

Not only that, but the kids we have managed to keep alive up to this point seem to have issues. Jake is a 16 year old trapped in a 6 year old body. He clearly thinks his parents are a couple of idiots he is forced to live with until the world finally notices that he is indeed ruler over all. The other night I launched into a merciless (and possibly loud...) lecture that rang of, "I do so much for you; take you to the park, parties, playdates, blah, blah, and what do I get in return? Disrespect?" My pitch actually changed mid speech when I realized that I have turned into my mom (another troubling fact, for another blog post). Not only that, but look at what he requested from the hairdresser the other day...

Sure. Cookies today, rehab tomorrow.

Then there is Grace, with her own addiction problems; namely the binky. We have now stripped the binky usage down to mid-day naps only. This is actually a selfish move on my part, because she could probably go without those naps now, but I could not. Grace is also fond of using her vocal cords. She screeches when things are not going her way (which is often with a tyrant brother around) or when we try to dress her in anything but her Easter dress. It drives me NUTS. I am sure their is a petition circling the neighborhood, bound to get us evicted.

"This is what I think of pants."

Before you call Child Protection Services, please know that I only worry about these "quirks" in my children because I would throw myself under a bus, or even skip watching a season of Heroes, to ensure that they grow up happy and mostly normal. I love them with ferocity, and do not want to fail in raising them. So for now I will focus on the fact that Jake is very good about helping me around the house, and he often asks me how my tummy is feeling, thus demonstrating compassion. (For Mother's Day, he even filled in the blank, "My mom is prettiest when..." by saying, " when she is pregnant." So sweet ... but a shame that I will be forever ugly after 4 more months.) And Grace makes us laugh at least 874 times a day, gives good kisses, and inspires us to spin around the living room before falling into dizzy heaps. And they both LOVE each other.

Besides, isn't the third time a charm?