Another Day! Yay!: The Chaos of Now

Gabriella had been down for a nap. After about an hour, I heard her usual cries and yells that let me know she wanted me to come get her. Typically, I like her to have some independent time when she first gets up, so I try not to run at her first attempt. Well, she was yelling. Probably the usual, "Mommy, come get me!" The twins were getting fussy at this same time so I needed to tend to them, as well. In addition, it was the hottest day of the year and Rick was outside washing the car with no sunscreen. I, of course, had to go outside and let him know that he had to put some on before he got skin cancer on his head! All the while, Gabriella was yelling.

When I finally made it up to her room and listened outside of her door, I didn't hear the familiar calling. Instead, "Mommy, I poo-poo'd and my diaper came off!"

Pause.

The thought of the mess awaiting me behind that closed door had me thinking about whether I really even wanted to go in there. You know, I could just go back outside, pretend I didn't hear anything and have Rick go upstairs to get his darling daughter. Is that bad?!

But...I took one for the parental team and charged inside only to find Gabriella in tears holding onto the fasteners of her diaper. She hadn't let it fall! She had held that diaper up, avoiding what could have been the yuckiest mess of all time! She looked at me and whimpered, "Look Mommy! I held my diaper so it don't come off." As I took her to the changing table praising her, she continued, "And I didn't touch my poo-poo Mommy! And I didn't EAT it!! Can I have a Happy Meal?" She was so genuinely proud of herself and so was I. And now that I'm relaying the story to you, I'm about to actually write something I never thought I'd write in a million years:

I was so proud of my daughter for not eating her poo-poo.

That, my friends, is crazy.

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The reactions people have when they see our family has twins and a 2 1/2 year old varies. Some people light up, like they would with any children. Some people share about their great uncle's best friend's wife, who also had twins. Some people ask if Marielle and Genevieve are identical. Some people ask what kind of big sister Gabriella is.

Some people (more than you might think), in a most exasperated voice, sigh, roll their eyes and talk about how we must not get any sleep (and they say it in a way like they secretly hope we aren't). They declare how hard our lives must be...how full our hands are kept...and how if we can just ride out the next few years (some have said up to the age of 21!), everything will all be better. One lady actually said she felt sorry for us!

This reaction hurts my feeling the most.

Granted, it is crazy around here, but not so much that it isn't fun. Our hands are full, but not so full that we would, for one second, wish part of it away. I don't want to wait in anticipation of a calmer, easier time because there's so much fun to be had in the chaos of now. I mean, after all, I never thought I'd find such pride in my daughter's poo-poo eating restraint.

The bottom line is, if you see us out and I look frazzled or the babies are crying or we're pushing two carts through the grocery for only a loaf of bread and milk...

Don't feel sorry for us.

Don't encourage us to wish this time away.

Don't tell us it will get better.

We're livin' the good life...as crazy as that may seem!

And no picture could say it better than the one below!! ha!