Life With Three

This is the first installment of what I'm sure will be many posts on what our lives are like now that we are playing "zone defense" in the Rutledge house.  I read a paragraph in a book recently (notice I said a paragraph) that said "Having two children is like having one and a half.  Having three is like having ten."  And although for us, adding a third child wasn't nearly as difficult as adding a second, there are still some major lifestyle adjustments that have come our way.  We now have a few "rules" we live by, a "code of family ethics" if you will:

• Rule #1:  Pick your battles.  If you don't - you will spend your entire day arguing, negotiating and nagging.  It's not worth it.  Let the child eat his spaghetti with a spoon.  Let him wear pajama pants with his polo shirt.  Let him wear boots in the Georgia summer heat.  Let the child watch an extra 30 minutes of cartoons.  Depending on how the day is going, you may even need to let him play with the soap dispenser in his bathroom.  Just let the small stuff go.  I promise, once you get over the thought of being stared at by parents of one or two children, you'll feel better and more free.  In fact, you may even like this new existence.  Now if a lady with 5 or more children is staring at you in disbelief, you may need to reevaluate the battles you're picking.
• Rule #2:  You don't just hop in the car and go anywhere.  In fact, "hopping in the car" no longer even exists in our world, because getting everyone into the car is a nightmare.  And I'm not talking about getting everyone dressed, fed, pottied and to the car.  I'm talking about simply getting in the car.  Buckling three children in their respective car seats is enough to make me want to lie down in front of the car as it backs down the driveway.  The baby is easy - we buckle her into her car seat inside the house and click her in.  Good to go.  Brooks, however is where the trouble begins.  He rides in the third row.  Getting him to the third row is enough of a challenge because as soon as the climbs in the car, he's going for the driver's seat.  So I have to hold his little arm and escort him to the rear of the vehicle.  (And please don't assume that you would simply "lay down the law and with better parenting, the child would obey."  Please.  This is one of those times when rule #1 comes into play.)  So now I'm struggling to lift my 38lb 2 1/2 year old into a five-point harness while my baby is crying in her car seat, and my four year old is either playing in the parking lot alone or in the already cramped car with us pulling on my pants, which in effect causes my pants to slip further and further down my backside until my love handles AND my crack are showing.  Awesome.  So now I buckle Will in.  No problem until I realize that I'm trapped in the car by carseats on each side.  I either have to climb over the center console (more crack involved) or climb over the 4 year old without breaking his legs or somehow shoving my boobs in his face.  Ugh.  So yea.  No more "let's get out of the house" trips to Starbucks.
• Rule #3:  Babysitters are hard to come by.  They just are.  People are more than willing to take one child, and maybe two if both are potty trained.  But when you are looking for a babysitter for three little people, all of a sudden things get hairy.  I understand completely.  It's like taking in a whole family.  And because babysitters are hard to come by, so are date nights. 
• Rule #4:  The clothing debacle.  Siigghhhh... My boys used to dress nicely.  Our first was always dressed amazingly well.  And because I had more than enough time to treat stains, keep laundry separated, and then store them neatly once outgrown, our second inherited a lot of amazing clothing.  But with the second child came less time for buying, treating and organizing.  And with the third child came the great clothing debacle.  HOLY crap.  We are swimming in a sea of little people clothing, all of which is wrinkled, most of which is stained, and none of which can be located when looking for it.  We have one boy in size 4, one boy in size 3 and a poor little girl with hair bows, leggings and dresses that her parents have no idea what to do with.  The right size hardly ever gets on the right boy, resulting in a 4 year old with a midriff-baring shirt and a 3 year old whose pants are falling off.  Our middle child changes clothes at least 5 times a day at his own requests and is going through a phase where he insists on wearing gloves (mismatched socks) on his hands at all times.  I'm over it.  In fact - I've come to call it individuality.
• Rule #5: You NEVER have enough time.  Trust me.  If you think you are running ahead of schedule, you are wrong.  So very wrong.  If you see that time has allowed you 15 more minutes than you thought you needed, keep right on full-steam ahead.  Because if you use that 15 minutes to do something crazy like sit down, pour another cup of coffee, or actually put on socks with your shoes, you will regret it.  As you are trying to get everyone out the door 15 minutes later, someone will pitch a fit, have to poop, poke another child in the eye, fall and scrape a knee, or forget their backpack.  I promise.  If time has allowed you 15 extra minutes, it's because time can foresee that you are going to need it.  Trust me.

I'll leave you with those things to ponder while I go find my Brooks a new pair of "gloves"....