To be perfectly honest, having three kids means most days are barely-controlled chaos. I’m sure the nature of that chaos will shift as they all get older. But for now, a lot of the insanity comes from wildly different ages with wildly different needs. I’m in a constant state of compromising one for the other.
This weekend, though, Ellie got a brief taste of being an only child. The big kids went to New Hampshire with my in-laws, and we had a full 72 hours of only one non-mobile (no climbing on things she isn’t supposed to), non-verbal (no whining or backtalk), multi-nap-per-day child.
Holy crap was that easy.
If Ellie really was my only child, I wouldn’t think it was easy at all. I’d bemoan how much your life changes when you have a baby, how you can’t just go out any time you feel like it, how I always have to balance when she needs to be fed and when she needs to sleep. Blah blah blah.
But I have the perspective of having three kids, including two who are nearly done napping and almost never stop talking. So I can enjoy the quiet in my house when the baby takes 2-3 naps during the day, and is out for the night at 6:30PM. I can revel in actually letting the poor kid take a real nap, instead of hoping she’ll sleep in the car as I drag her to preschool gymnastics class. I can laugh about how simple it was to head out for an early dinner, with two adults and one infant. I can finally have an answer to the question I used to ask (mostly in my head) when my twins were infants: “what do parents of one child DO with all that free time?” The answer? Get SO MUCH DONE. We purged the dining room, I nearly finished one quilt and started another. We watched movies and got errands done in what felt like record-setting time.
And when she wasn’t sleeping? I actually COULD spend time just hanging out with her. Lying on my bed while she grabbed the pillows, her lovey, my nose. Talking to her about our plans for the day. Narrating my sewing while she hung out in the bouncy seat. The kind of calm interaction and enjoying of her that I didn’t get to do as much when there were two her size.
Oh, sure, I missed my big kids, and I was glad to have them back at the end of the long weekend. I missed their storytelling and their funny logic and their hugs and kisses (not so much with the whining and backtalk). Truth be told, I’m not a “baby person.” I adore my sweet girl and her smile and her delicious chubby cheeks. But babies aren’t really that much… fun. As crazy as the four-year-olds can make me, I really do love each age more than the last.
But oh, it was a sweet, peaceful weekend. We’ll have to do it again next summer.




















































