When I am out with Eli and he isn’t wearing something that is outright boyish or blue, I often get comments about how pretty “she is.” At first, I was indignant, can’t they see that this is clearly a handsome young man? I guess not.

I can’t tell you how many times people have said, “how old is she?” or “what is her name?” Lamenting about this with my friends, they often say, well in the defense of these kind strangers, he is a “really pretty baby.” I could continue to fight this issue or I could just give in and say, yes he is very pretty boy.

So Internet, I present to you, my pretty little boy. Eli, I am so sorry, this was not was totally my idea. You drew the short stick with me as a Mama my son….

Everyone always asks, “are you going to try for a girl?” Well, I think the answer is officially “no need to, I’ve already got a pretty little Eli.”

Later this week, Eli will be 8 months old. I am in shock. Mostly because I still remember when I looked like this and it feels like that was yesterday. I can distinctly remember the leg cramps, the lack of bladder control and the heartburn. Eli was not physically easy to be pregnant with – or maybe it was just that my body was finished housing babies long before my heart was. Either way, he has been so delightful outside of my belly that the ugly pregnancy memories are graying. I actually saw a newborn at church on Sunday and sighed, wishing I could ask to hold her. I nearly fell over the seat in front of me trying to peek at her as she yawned and stretched her tiny little arms. What is wrong with me? I have more children than I can manage, most days feel like a ship being sunk by the crew and here I am fawning over some one’s baby that I don’t even know? The female mind really is the confusing maze my husband thinks it to be.

Back to Eli….I love this stage of babyhood. Somewhere around 6 months until about 1 year, I could just eat babies up. They are so curious and sweet and they babble and drool and have thighs that look like ham hocks. They haven’t figured out how to say “no” or run away from you. They wake up cooing and saying “da da da” and my heart just melts. Each of my boys went through this stage and each time I found myself falling further in love. (until they were about 2 years old and then I might have sold them to the highest bidder.)

Every day Eli laughs deep and loud,  rolls over with gusto in order to get to an object of his desire, tries to eat his special blankie and watches his older brothers with enchantment. Basically, he is all baby. My baby. I love him more than I can tell you here. More than I thought possible when I wrote this post.

I look at Isaac and I see how quickly time goes by, I want to cherish every bit of my time with Eli as a baby because I know that before I can blink, he’ll be asking for the car keys.

P.S. We went to the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz yesterday and got some great pics that I will post tomorrow…..

Okay so I am not really single but seriously Kevin is gone, yet again, for a business trip. This makes 5 trips in 4 months. We joke around that I am a single working mother of three and that there should be some sort of government program for which I qualify. I am pretty sure Obama-Care had something in it that would help me out – right? No?

Anyway, so here I am again all dressed up in a suit running around gathering bottles for the baby, slinging my pump over my shoulder and giving the Nanny last minute instructions. As I fall into the car and begin my commute, I wonder….does everyone do this much before 8am? Did I remember to put on my bra?

I have enough “stay at home” mom friends to know that being home with the kids is no vacation either and that is has its’ own set of complications and stress. Namely, the inability to have an adult conversation for 8 straight hours and the carpel tunnel syndrome that develops from constant requests to open this or that snack package/toy etc. As a side note – can we please join together and speak wtih the toy manufacturer’s about the ridiculous amount of plastic and screws and tape and twisty wire-thingies involved in packaging? Seriously.

So my assumption is simply that being a mom to multiple children is just hard work, whether you are with them all day or not. At the end of any given day, especially without  a husband around to share the burden (I mean joy) of dinner time/playtime/bathtime/storytime, I am just spent. Useless. Emotionally and physically drained.

As such, I have been feeling like my children don’t get my best when I come home from work. With Kevin being gone and work being so draining, my kids sometimes get the scraps. I have been asking God to show me how to be the best mom I can be with the little time I have. I don’t want to have my children look back on these years and just see me as the blur in heels (albeit very cute heels) that barked “get dressed! we have to leave NOW!” But how do I accomplish this when I really do need them to get dressed because we really do have to leave NOW???

I feel like I am being called to spend more time playing with my kids. Due to the fact that I have boys, it is easier for me to cop out and say – “Mommy doesn’t know how to transform that Transformer, go ask Daddy to help.” Yet, I know that I need to find ways to connect with them that is fun, even when my day is long. So ladies, I have a question….do you (whether you work outside the home or not) take time to play with your kids? Do you engage in their world for a time each day? If so, what do you do? Especially for my boy mama friends – help me out. I can play Barbie till the cows come home but when it comes to Batman, my creative juices just aren’t flowing.

Alright, I am off to start my day. Seven cups of coffee later and a little help from Beyonce (put your hands up! oh-oh-oh) I finally have the energy…..

I haven’t posted pictures in AGES. So, I figured it was time to add a little color to the blog.

Before I do however, I thought I would share with you that I have decided that I am no longer going to call it “going to bed.” Realistically, what I do at night is take a series of interrupted naps. Last night I got 6 -one hour long naps, all punctuated by either a crying baby, a request for water or a request for comfort due to a bad dream. Maybe if I just plan on taking “naps” I will be less upset when I am woken up 7 times each night. Or maybe, I’m just going to go sleep in the garage…

I am sure over time there will be a million posts about my three boys. However, as I begin this journey of being a mother of three I can’t help  but share some of the things I’ve experienced so far.

First of all, when pregnant with a boy for the 3rd time, you are more likely to get condolences than congratulations. Men who would comment on my pregnancy, and then discover I was pregnant with another boy would inevitably say things like:

I’m one of three boys, my poor mother.

I’m one of four boys, my mom was a trooper.

I’m one of two boys, my mom is glad we are out of the house.

I’m one of several boys, my mom is trained in martial arts.

Okay so not really the last one but I imagine that karate would be a useful skill for me to acquire in the next few years. It would help with deflecting flying Buzz Lightyear toys and legos. If any of you are wondering what it is like to be a mother to so many boys, I can only say that I don’t really know yet. Eli is still at that androgynous baby stage (as evidenced by the MANY, “she is so cute” comments at Target and the mall). He isn’t really all boy yet, just a sweet, smiling little bug that eats poops and sleeps….hmmm, maybe he is all boy.

“Boydom” is in full swing with Joshua and Isaac though. They have taken to wrestling and fighting a good portion of the time they are together. Isaac is my pacifist, not really down with all of the physicality that Joshua exudes. Like a good dog would do, he takes several punches from the smaller pup before he growls. Joshie is ALL BOY. Often times after people have been around him for a period of time I get comments like:

Wow, he sure is full of energy!

That kid never stops!

Josh is a firecracker!

These things are all spanish for – holy sh%t, how do you do it?  The answer is, I have learned the fine art of “tuning him out.” Joshie talks nonstop and is always getting into something he shouldn’t. Often during the day I will hear the vaccum go on or the pump for the air mattress. He is obsessed with things that make noise. I know that if he is “vaccuming” he at least isn’t pestering Isaac. Unfortunately though, while Isaac may not be the first to throw a punch, he is incredibly loud. You take his booming voice plus Joshie’s daily vaccuming session and….The  level of noise in our house is maybe only rivaled by the cast of Jersey Shore but I am pretty sure there is just as much testosterone and fist bumping going on here.

As I settle in with my three sons I can offer the following observation – I am sure that my life over the next few years will in some ways resemble Lord of the Flies. You know, a bunch of boys on an island (our house) trying to kill their leader (me and Kevin). So glad I was forced to read that book and understand the boy mentality. Anyone know where I can get a conch shell?

 When our first son was born, I was worried how the two rowdy beagles we had at the time would adjust. I actually spent real emotional energy thinking about this in the months before I delivered. I did research on introducing the baby to the dogs and I spent more minutes than I would like to admit thinking about how I could possibly have room in my heart for both the baby and the dogs. The dogs went on vacation with us, they slept with us, we had framed pictures of them around the house and on our computer screensavers. When other people told stories about what cute things their kids did, I threw in anecdotes about my beagles. Yes, I was that person. Needless to say, about 10 seconds in to holding Isaac for the first time, those dogs moved to a different corner of my heart. I still loved them but it wasn’t the same.

The night before our second son was born, I went in to his sweetly prepared nursery and cried my eyes out. I couldn’t imagine how I could love a baby as much as or more than I loved our firstborn. I couldn’t fathom how my heart would have room for this next child. I spent an incredible amount of my pregnancy with Joshua researching the addition of a sibling to the family dynamic. I read stories to Isaac in preparation for Joshua’s homecoming. I thought I was prepared, until the night before when it hit me that everything was about to change. I just broke down. Memories of my introduction to motherhood and how it felt to hold my first baby were flooding into my brain. How could a second child compare? How could I feel as attached to this baby as I did to the precious child sleeping in the next room over that taught me how to be a mother?

The very next evening, as Joshua came into this world and my heart did not split in half but instead grew exponentially, I understood.  When Isaac came to the hospital to meet his brother, he immediately began referring to him as “my Joshie.” Nothing could have been sweeter.

Here I am, 8 weeks or so from adding a third son to our family. You would think by now I would understand that worrying about how it is all going to work out is for not. Yet, that is just what I am doing. Once again, I cannot wrap my brain around having enough love for another child. I can’t picture him yet or feel his chubby hand in mine. I can’t see a clear picture of what it will be like to have three sons and love them all so intensely.  However, I know that it is going to happen. Sometime in the very near future, my heart will once again grow exponentially and make room for Elijah Harris. I am sure I will sit in that hospital room, staring into his eyes and wondering how our family would ever have been complete without him.

PS – read something today about having children that just blew me away, once again Amber nailed it. Go see for yourself.