People keep asking me how it’s going with three kiddos, all of them younger than five. They always ask with a sort of tenderness, because some of them are older momma’s and they remember these days and some of them aren’t momma’s yet, so they want to know, but they sort of cock their head and wait for my answer. And I wonder if they’re trying to gauge and see if they’ll be okay, you know, down the road.

I tell them I’m doing good. Just so good. Because I am. Being a momma to me has been sheer joy. All three times. And I know Samuel is still little but he’s not exactly sleeping through the night yet, so I’m tired, yes, but I didn’t know that I would be okay being tired. I was the girl who always thought I needed 8-10 hours of sleep every night, and then a nice little cat nap in the afternoon and I don’t know when the last time was I slept more than four hours at a time. I just don’t even remember. And the funny thing is, I’m doing just fine. I’m even happy. : )

I know I’ve got it pretty good, because I get to stay home with  my babes, and I think that changes things. We get to make our own routine and make a run for ice cream whenever we want or stay up late and sleep in, if we want. Though, I am learning the value of rhythms. Now, I’ll never be the organized momma who plans every hour of the day. I tried that once. The next day I was so depressed, I didn’t want to get out of bed.

But, I am learning that in the mornings it’s good to eat breakfast together, and then have the kids help me with the dishes. Even if it means the silverware gets put in the drawer at a snail’s pace because Hopey has to examine all the straws. And it’s good for them to help me put in a load of laundry, even if it means waiting longer on Gideon because he’s pretending like the clothes hamper is a caboose and he’s the engine.

I read once that the family is a beautiful community of love and chaos and that’s what we’ve got here and it’s so good. All of us learning together and messing up and stumbling around and figuring it out together. At the end of the day, I realize it’s our togetherness that makes my heart feel so deeply happy and content.

And little Samuel, he’s just the sweetest little guy. Everyday I thank God for thinking him up and giving him to us to be our little friend. He smiles so big about everything and his eyes are all full of light.  A baby is so innocent and pure and utterly delightful and when I look at him, I forget about any troubles in the world and I just get this sense of what heaven must surely be like.

Now, I know that a lot of stay-at-home mommas feel lost and alone and purposeless. I don’t mean to paint the picture that I don’t have those moments, too. I do. But, they seem to be fairly fleeting and few. Maybe because I’ve been blessed with a few really deep friendships. We get together about once a week and talk about whatever is just right there on our hearts and then pray for ourselves and our families and for the world.

Also, when the kids rest, I take time to sleep or write, and when I write, I’ve got this burn inside my chest and I do feel so alive and restored.

And I will admit, here lately, when Brent comes home from work, I wave at him and I’m like “See ya!” And I’m out the door and on walk because I need a break. It’s good to have a little time to peer through those bare tree limbs and admire the sunset or stand in the middle of the street and watch the moon rise without someone tugging on my legs or pulling on my arms.

And God is helping me a lot with these three kids that He’s given me. He reminds me often that soon these mothering days will be folded up and done and so it’s okay to go slow and enjoy. Every job has it’s own hard and seasons change.

And I’m finding that, lo and behold, happiness isn’t getting 8 or 10 hours of sleep. (Although, that would sure be nice and I wouldn’t even complain!) And happiness isn’t in having my schedule uninterrupted or going a whole day with no one spilling juice or peeing on the floor.

But, happiness, that deep down soul-contented kind, is right here with my babes as we all squeeze in together on the bed and read books while Samuel makes hilarious squealing noises and tries to chew the pages. Or when Brent comes home and we’re all huddled around the laundry heap, sorting clothes and putting them away. Together.

And it’s even better when we  put on some techno-dance music and impress each other with our cool laundry-putting-away moves.