I’m almost two years in to having three kids, and I thought I’d heard it all.
“Wow, three kids? You certainly have your hands full!”
“Wow, three kids? And I thought two was tough!”
“Wow, three kids? Well, she’s sure cute.”
“Wow, three kids? And you brought them all to Safeway/Target/Costco/[insert frequent meltdown spot here]?”
“Wow, three kids? No wonder you look exhausted!”
“Wow, three kids? At least you finally got a girl.”
“Wow, three kids? You’re done now, right?”
Three kids doesn’t really seem that crazy to me. So, I can’t help but wonder, do my three kids do something extra special to that garner so much loaded attention?
It seems not. The other day, I saw a man in Starbucks with his three kids. I gave him a great, big smile. I didn’t care that his three-ish-year-old daughter was screaming. I didn’t mind that his eight-ish-year-old son was talking loud enough for the whole place to hear his every thought. I just thought it was great that this dad was taking all of his kids out. Braving the storm.
Then another man walked by, nonchalantly turned to the dad, laughed, and said, “Wow, you’ve got your hands full, huh?” The dad, who had likely heard it all before, and was certainly trying his best, barely acknowledged the comment. And he certainly didn’t appreciate it.
So, a couple days later, when I was talking to my neighbor’s father who was visiting from Canada, I was ready.
He started in…
“Wow, two boys and a girl? They’re all yours?”
“Yep. They sure are.”
“My, you are rich.”
He wasn’t looking at my dirty yoga pants, my dark circles, or my yard that needs a Spring facelift. He was looking at my life.
I am rich. These three little kids come with their challenges, and there are days that may be a bit more exhausting than I had imagined, but the joy they bring me, that’s worth its weight in gold. And I’m so very grateful to a wise man for reminding me of that.