The Tiny Toes Trifecta

I’m attempting to write my first blog post.  But, I’m distracted.  There are thirty tiny toes that are supposed to be napping upstairs.  Instead, they have jumped out of their cribs and are running around their bedroom.  Screams and giggles accompany the pitter patters across the floor. Now they are fighting about whether or not to sing, “Jingle Bells.” 

My Tiny Toe Trifecta, all girls, turned three in March.  My husband, a saint of man, and I have been married for almost twelve years.  He’s at work.  I just sent him the following text, “No nap today. I’m exhausted.”    

This is one of those moments that make me crazy.  What do I do?  I have already been up to their room four times in the last hour.  They have slept in the same room since we brought them home from the NICU.  Hendley and Elizabeth came home first after ten days.  Eleven days later our teeny tiny, Mary Ellis, joined them.  “Get back in your cribs.  Rest your bodies.  Rest your eyes.  Rest your mouths.  Or you won’t get ice cream after we go to the playground.”  That’s right; I just threatened them with ice cream withdrawal.  I’m that desperate.  And yes, they are still sleeping in cribs.  Because in my mind they are trapped in those things and I will get to sleep more. 

Motherhood is by far the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. Jen, the author of the blog, “People I Want to Punch in the Throat,” would probably add me to her list for saying such things (I love her blog by the way), but it’s true.  Before the girls were born I taught school for ten years.  I truly loved working in education, but I was always itching inside.  It’s a feeling of dissatisfaction I just can’t describe.  It had nothing to do with teaching, or my school, or the people with whom I worked, it had to do with me.  I don’t feel that way anymore.  Now I feel confused, overwhelmed, clueless, exhausted, and completely content.

Writing about my life with The Tiny Toe Trifecta makes me happy.  Stuff happens to us that I couldn’t make up if I tried.  I hope sharing these stories will make people laugh.  I hope that I can ask questions about parenting and I hope that readers will offer comments and suggestions.  I hope nothing I write will make people, especially Jen, want to punch me in the throat.