Two to three

There are more children now, but part of it feels easier.

I’ve been here before, twice.

My eldest has been here before, once.

And my middle child has never known a life without having to share me.

The dynamics are different and new, yet not as foreign.

But part of it is harder too.

I am completely outnumbered.

I haven’t grown another arm so someone is almost always waiting.

When things go, they really go. The tantrums, the tears, the standards in our home.

And then parts are easier and harder at the same time.

My toddler and preschooler play, when I feed the baby. That makes it easier.

But they also have disagreements. That makes it harder.

My standards around the house and screen time have dropped once again. That makes it easier.

But letting go without the guilt doesn’t come automatically for me. That makes it harder.

My older two are keen to be helpful with the baby. That makes it easier.

But they are still babies themselves so that makes it harder.

It’s both.

I’m more tired.

But I’m also more used to it.

I’m more overstimulated.

But I’m also more aware of my triggers.

I’m more in need of support.

But I’m also more confident about asking for it.

For me, this transition has been easier and harder.

It’s complex,

Like the dynamics in our home some days.

But it’s simpler too,

Because things have to be that way these days.

Being a mother of three is now all I know,

And I’ve never known a love like it.

It’s easier, and harder, but most of all it feels right.