Greystoke lay blissfully asleep during the whole thing.
Aquaman turned his back to all the parents while the kids sang.
I finally got him to take a picture with me at least. But he refused to open his eyes.
At his school picnic, he got the football award for "tackling difficult tasks this year". He enjoyed the award. He hates football.
He enjoys more original sports.
Greystoke is only 3 weeks, and to be fair, other than some marathon afternoon nursing sessions and some periods of gassiness, he's a pretty laid back baby.
And I know it will get harder when he gets more mobile.
But so far, transitioning from two to three kids has been no harder than transitioning from one to two, or none to one.
None to one was still the hardest.
It's a transition for sure. A newborn has a completely unpredictable schedule. They don't sleep. And mine don't like for me to do much else when I am nursing them, which is most of the time. They want me to CONCENTRATE.
But with each child you just find a new normal. You learn to let more go. If the bathrooms don't smell like a hamster cage, you figure you"re doing ok. You stop and read stories even when the laundry is unfolded on the couch.
I don't have time to watch any tv or movies anymore.
I don't really feel like I'm missing anything.
Still, while 3 doesn't feel any more overwhelming to me than one: ( this morning as I tried to figure out when to fit in a minute to pump, to start building up a supply for when I return to work, I remembered feeling that exact same way when Aquaman was 3 weeks old.)
3 feels full.
It feels right.
Tomorrow I turn 33. It feels like the prime of life, and I feel like I'm really living it, even in my half-asleep, surrounded-by-matchbox-cars-and-crumbs state.
"Sometimes God is better found in turbulence than in security; calm may be a stagnant backwater for the faithless. Others may hold back, stick a toe in the water, or splash around to test the temperature. But let us lunge into God's love and be swept away in life abundant and eternal." -David Swartz