Having 3 - random thoughts on a day when it took FOREVER to get the kids out the door.

Check it out here.

I love having three kids. We have that perfect girl-boy-girl sandwich with 5 years between the youngest and the oldest. Life is good. Life is not, however, uncomplicated. I find (as do many other parents of 3 or more [or, you know... parents of 1, 2, none] - I did a little informal poll at the pool over the last few weeks of swim practice chats... by the way, I meet some of the coolest people hanging out and waiting for my kids at the pool... I'm talking to you, Tracy!) that it is a rare occasion indeed when everyone is content. Seems like at least one kid has a problem at almost all times. I pride myself on being a problem solver extraordinaire but I must admit I'm feeling a little bit emotionally overworked (worked over?).

We are thoroughly lucky. Problems tend to be fleeting and manageable around here. I know that all of the little things (and by little, I don't mean insignificant... just that they exist within the realm of the reasonably expectable...is that a word?) help us to get to know each other better and to prepare us for life's "big things" that we all hope we never actually have to confront.

Anyway, the point is that I do find meaning in the minor dramas of raising 3 kids and yet I feel incredibly lucky that at any time, we can relatively easily step away from the "problems" when something truly difficult does happen.

In the mean time, if an army of tutors, counselors, and (just to be safe) housekeepers showed up at my door on any given day, I'd have no trouble keeping them busy. Truthfully, I would probably turn them away because I have a hard time accepting that the whole "it takes a village" thing might actually apply to me, too.