Three. Two. One.
Updated: Sep 21, 2019
Three little boys, to wake up and get fed, teeth brushed, dressed and loaded in the minivan. Car seats buckled and we’re off to the elementary school drop off line. We pass the dancing crossing guard that always makes us smile, and pull into the carpool line.
My curly haired kindergartener bounces out of the car, tolerates a quick kiss from me, and bounds up the stairs, excited for another day soaking up knowledge.
Two little boys and I pull away from the school. We head to preschool, and I unload the stroller and the kids, walking in, unsure of how my middle child will react. Some days I have to peel him away from me, others he hops like a frog down the hallway and goes right in on his own. Today is a crying day. I wait in the hallway, out of sight until I hear him calm down. It’s hard to leave when I hear him screaming for me. Slowly, he calms down and I head back to the car with the baby.
Just me and the baby, and we continue our morning rounds, heading over to a MOPs meeting. I change his diaper and hang his diaper bag on a hook, hand my baby over and head into the meeting.
I almost don’t know what to do with myself, not having any kids with me. Two hours, a much needed time to connect with other moms. We smile and laugh and for a little bit are able to just be—nobody to take care of. In taking this time, taking care of ourselves.
Our meeting finishes and I walk down the hallway and peek in. A happy baby with a smile on his face. Relief washes over me. He enjoyed himself and so did I. I open the door and his face lights up as he waves and reaches for me. He settles in on his spot on my hip, and I’m back to one.
There’s just enough time to drop off a library book and grab lunch before I’m in the preschool carpool line, baby napping in the back. Third baby means naps happen in the car more often than the crib.
My three year old comes out holding a teachers hand with a smile on his face and I’m back to two.
We head to the park for a little bit, and it’s mostly empty, the morning park crowd having headed home for naps. At the park I think about how the dynamic is so different with only two. I’m used to a traveling circus and this seems so tame. Before long, it’s time to load back up and head to the final carpool line of the day. Two little boys nap in the backseat and I open my book.
The line starts to move, and I see my curly haired little boy. He crawls into the car, and my heart leaps when he reaches for a hug before settling into his seat. We’re back to three.
Three little boys. We’re slowly learning the new rhythms of this new season.
Three. Two. One. None. One. Two. Three. Three. Two. Three.
Three. Two. One. Two. Three.