Look at this.

LOOK AT THIS!

seriously.

Take a second and look at those three boys.

Look at the three I am blessed to be with every single day.

Their smiles.

Their unique characteristics, but created from the same two people.

And God. 

It had to be mostly God.

Because look at those three boys.

They drive me crazy.

At LEAST once a day I lose my temper-

I yell at them like an ACTUAL crazy person.

Their faces always looked shocked when I do it

but the bummer is they also look sad.

I hate that I do that to them.

I get tired being their mom sometimes

really tired.

It's so hard to clean up after them. 

all.the.time.  

The clean up never stops.

I mean, it never stops to the point that sometimes I am overwhelmed. 

Resentful that this has become my life.  moving from one mess to the next.

It's so hard.  So very hard.

And the laundry. I feel like I can't keep up with it.

In the washer, into the dryer, in baskets upstairs

Folding for EVER

put away in drawers

By the end of laundry day there is already a full basket waiting to be washed.

How does that happen?

And my gosh, it's never gone stop.

I can't think about that too much or I start to panic.

Will my life really revolve around a washer/dryer for the next twenty years?

Leaving the house is a FREAKING FIASCO.

When you have a 3, 2,  and 1 year old, it takes a half hour to get out of the house.

That's not an exaggeration.

If I have to leave the house at a certain time, I need a half hour to get out of the house.

Between the shoes, the coats, the potty, the diaper bag...

by the time we get in the car I am sweaty and furious.

I have said I need a fairy, who flies in to get my boys ready to leave...

I'd be happier with that fairy.

But you guys...

LOOK AT THEM

I GET TO HANG OUT WITH THEM!

The one on the left talks my ear off.  The other day I took him to Old Navy, we got home and he was eating dinner. "I had SO much fun today mom"- he says.  His feet grow at this crazy rapid rate, and today, when I pulled him out of the bathtub, I almost started crying because he is getting so tall.

The middle one.  You guys, I am tearing up when I write this...he has taken to asking me every morning 'how'd you sleep?'.  He then asks what I dreamed about.  He is a goofy little dude.  He walks around the house with his 'pillow' which is actually his blankie and is trying to understand he can't use his PACEEEEFIRE anymore.  He wraps his little body around me all the time.  He has that perfect little squeaky voice.

That one on the right.  Oh my gosh. He is our joy.  We can't believe we got him, because we certainly didn't plan on him.  He waddles, not really a walk.  He gives me kisses now- basically just smacking his open mouth against my face.  He climbs and has always known to go directly for what he is not allowed to have.  Oh my gosh, how he loves his brothers.  He gives his big brother 'snuggles' every morning.  It's unbelievably cute.

I am so blessed.

Blessed beyond measure.

And yet so often,I forget. I get tired, bogged down, I feel like I am the silent martyr, serving in ways not noticed.

But  it's not like that.

I am actually the luckiest gal in the world.

I just need to remember.

I just need to look at this.