Three

The Three.

My three.

Everywhere we go I hear, "Boy, you have your hand's full," and, sometimes, "Three boys, bless your heart."

Oh, yes, my heart is blessed, blessed indeed.

They are busy, curious, and rambunctious. I often do my best to temper all of that, but I always fail. You can't keep a little boy contained. You simply can't. There is life welling up inside of them that cannot be contained. They are little overflowing cups of joy and boundless energy. And, I love them for it!

Last night, as I lay in bed completely exhausted, I tried to remember what it was that I did all day. Why was I so incredibly tired? I couldn't remember anything monumental that I had done during the day. All I could remember was changing laundry, folding laundry, fixing snacks and meals, nursing, changing diapers, taking JCT to the potty, pushing little ones on the swings, sitting in a lawn chair watching two little boys play some form of a football-like game, breaking up a few squabbles, taking the dog out, and attempting to muster up the energy to happily welcome Erik home at the end of the day - instead of collapsing and letting him take over - which is what I'd like to do - but that wouldn't be fair or right, and I know it. But, I did nothing extraordinary, and honestly other than a few baskets of folded laundry and a mediocre meal, I have nothing to show for all of my efforts.



But, I am amazingly satisfied.

Content.



And, three smiling, laughing, clean, lavender smelling boys are all the reward I need. Well, almost. . . The stalling at bedtime, the one more book, the one more hug, JCT's kisses through the crib rails, Joshua's "scratch my tummy a little longer," and Elijah's head nestled under my chin. . . that is my reward, and it is sweet. Little do they know that I am soaking up their smells and love like a sponge soaks up water. And, once again, I am thankful for another day with my three, my precious three.