...When Two Hands Aren't Enough

 "But Mommy, I need help!  I don't have enough hands!"  Miriam started to get an anxiety attack as she attempted to clamber up into the minivan while securing all her princesses within the grasp of her little fingers.  All I could think was, I know the feeling.

Now that there are three young ones in the house, I find myself on the verge of my own anxiety attack, shouting, "I only have two hands!  You need to WAIT!"  To which Miriam whines (in case you want the full picture), "But waiting is too haaaard!"  So far, life with three (age span of 37 months) is actually not too different than life with two, except in two ways: (1) I'm doing everything I was doing, only on even less sleep, if that's possible; and, (2) there are moments where things are exponentially more challenging.

Our newest tadpole, Augustine "Gus" Gregory
5.10.14

I've been coping with the sleep issue by continuing my 1-2 cups of coffee a day.  And, YES, that is while I am nursing.  I've also decided to make the most of my awake hours by increasing one of my favorite hobbies: reading.  I think I've read four books* since Gus's birth, compared to the one book a month I had been able to read pre-Gus.  So that's pretty cool.

What do I do during those exponentially more challenging moments?  After screaming, "I only have two hands!" I remember that they are, in fact, only "moments," usually lasting no more than 45 minutes.  They are finite, and in retrospect, never quite carry the "I-want-to-blast-everyone-to-outer-space" intensity as they do in the midst of the emotional furry.  When all three kids are screaming uncontrollably at once for three different reasons, I place each of them in a separate room, with the doors shut (of course), muster up a mustard seed's worth of composure, and start tackling one door at a time.  Yep, this is how I cope.

All my helping hands

Thankfully, I have four little hands that help me throughout the day.  When they're tired of coloring and nose-picking, they help me by sweeping the floor.  [TRANSLATE: Grab a broom the minute Mom is reaching for the dustpan and send the pile of breakfast leftovers scattering the floor once again.  Fight over whose broom is whose.]  When they're bored of sword fighting and climbing, they help me entertain the baby.  [TRANSLATE: Find the exact moment Baby falls asleep in swing, and start pushing the swing faster than Tot pushes us at the park.  Giggle hysterically.]  When these four little hands have finished building Arendelle and playing the piano, they help me fold laundry.  [TRANSLATE:  Quickly unfold all pieces that have been folded, and turn them into a rocket ship.  Make Mom sit in the back as we blast off to the moon.]

Once the day is done, I wonder about these four little hands.  I wonder if the hours they spend making Stone Soup in the backyard will manifest into serving chicken noodle soup at a homeless shelter.  I remember how just the other day Noah saw Miriam crying over wanting the toy he had, so he gently went up to her, saying, "Here, Miri-bella."  I hope those sharing hands will find their way onto a school playground soon.  In instances when I've discovered that those four little hands have left toys in the grasp of the two tiniest sleeping hands in our house, I pray that those receiving hands will find a way to follow the Good they see.  I just need to remember that I don't only have two hands, because God's lending me His every step of the way.

Biggest Blessing: An extra pair of hands was here to help!

*I need to make a plug for a book I recently read.  It was so good, I couldn't put it down and made my husband read it aloud to me during contractions.  Dead serious.  Check it out: Wonder by R.J. Palacio