Do you believe in luck? I do.
How lucky was I to become a mother of triplets? And then to be able to quit my job and stay at home with them? Sometimes I forget just how lucky I am, though.
My husband works. Some days he’s gone before the sun comes up and not home until after the sun has long gone down. On those days his time with the kids short and often not so sweet.
He’s home at the witching hour – that time in the early evening between dinner and bedtime when the kids seem to fall under a spell that causes them to meltdown. Often this is the only side of them that he sees all week long.
I’m the luckiest.
On those days, in the middle of the chaos, I tend to forget that I am the lucky one. I get to spend the fun, happy, and creative hours with them every day.
Time and again I forget that I am I’m here and I didn’t miss out on anything. I didn’t miss out on extra cuddles from Henley. I didn’t miss out on the newest song and dance from Sadie. And I didn’t miss out on watching Jase go down the same slide at the park 42 times in a row.
These kids of mine are only going to be little once. I am the lucky one because I get to be here for all of it.
I get to stay home with my children while they grow from babies to toddlers and preschoolers to big kids and teenagers to adults. Seriously. How lucky am I?
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