Just Winging It ...

I am so doomed. Doomed to be a single-like Mom of two year old triplets for about the next month or more. Today was my first day, and I didn't like it. Marlboro Man is getting ready to start harvest. I am dreading it so much. Did I say I am dreading it so very much? I am. I know I am spoiled. I know it should be "no big deal" .... but I'm skeered! (just kidding) There's more of them than me! I know a lot of other triplet Mom's do it by themselves every day. But like I said, I'm spoiled ... or maybe just lucky.

Marlboro Man has been here since day one ready to share this job 50/50 with me. He comes in every morning after milking the cows and helps me get them up and get them ready and going. I think I can count the times on two fingers that I've had to wing it alone in the morning with them. That's not many times considering this little trio of terror will be three years old in October.

This morning I was all prepared and had everything laid out and ready for them. I was calm and didn't even have heart palpatations. I was breathing evenly and said all my prayers prior to getting them up. I counted to ten, tip-toed across the room, took a deep breath, opened their door and in my best voice said, "Good Morning Babbbbbiiiiieeeeessssss ---- Mommmmeeeee Loves YOU! Who wants to get up?" like I do every single morning! All three of them looked at me like I was an alien. They looked right past me and started yelling, "DADDDDDDY" - "WHERE'S DADDDDDDDY?"

I knew instantly when I got the "we only want Daddy, and we can yell louder than you look" that this morning wasn't going to be pretty! I wasn't Daddy. I am Mommy! I am not the one they wanted this morning ... and it was getting uglier by the minute! Make that .... by the second.

My pre-planned vision of being cheerful and happy and keeping them happy long enough to get them changed, dressed and breakfast, then out the door to the car and to daycare wasn't going to go as I had planned. It was going south in a hand basket F-A-S-T!

Do you know how long it takes to get three noodle limp and kicking toddlers down a steep and narrow flight of steps by yourself? They stalled out on step seven, with eight steps to go. I bribed them with suckers (which did not work). I thought about rolling them, but thought that they might dog pile at the bottom of the stairs and someone might get hurt .... so instead I carried each of them the rest of the way down.

The very second their feet landed on the floor downstairs the screaming and crying stopped. They wanted that sucker. They got that sucker. They got two suckers. They were breakfast this morning. I decided that no one would know that I fed my kids a sucker for breakfast. I also reasoned with myself that they would eat a good lunch in two hours. They wouldn't die of starvation .... they'd had a sugar fix.

Needless to say, I am very much so dreading harvest this year. I think the cows should change their diet and forget about chopping corn and making silage this year. Marlboro Man thinks that I'm woman enough to do this every morning without him. I don't think I am. In fact, I know I'm not! I'm going to beg him and promise him the moon if he'll just come back home in the mornings for an hour.

By the way, when he asked me this evening how things went this morning .... I smiled and said, "it was a piece of cake honey" .... why would you even ask?" I will never let him know that I lost all dignity, aged four years in one hour, and was done in by three two year olds. N-E-V-E-R!

Be Blessed,
Tan