Counting Tiny Victories

I’m 33 years old. I count that a lucky age because I love the number 3.

You could say it is hoaky or superstitious, but it reminds me of the Trinity. I do believe that old adage that things happen in 3’s (both good and bad). Call me silly if you want. But in my short time on this Earth, I’ve only begun to learn how important it is to celebrate the tiny victories we experience in our lives.

Cecelia’s addition to our family means that we now have 3 kids. (One tiny victory, ah! ah! ah!) I was nervous about the transition and I still am. So far, Cecelia has been the best baby in the whole wide world! Because I’m not biased….

She is sweet-natured, peaceful and laid back. She doesn’t seem to mind the constant noise going on all around her and she is beginning to smile more and more each day. I love that she smiles with her eyes first. Then slowly, a huge grin breaks across her perfect little lips. It’s enrapturing.

Yesterday marked one month that we have been a family of five. (Two tiny victories, ah! ah! ah!) There were some rough moments in there. I expected Chase (our second-born) to struggle with the transition and loss of attention, but it was Cooper (our first-born) who had the most difficult time. The child who had never struck his brother intentionally in the three years of knowing him purposefully socked him in the face with a fist mere days after Cecelia and I were home from the hospital. (And of course, one of the days that Jeremy was gone at National Guard all weekend.)

Jeremy and I both have made efforts to love and cuddle our boys and remind them how important they are to us, that we love them the same, if not more than ever , and that there is room for Cecelia in all our hearts. (Three tiny victories, ah! ah! ah! Three is the number of the day!)

It helps to remind myself of the lessons I learned the two previous times we added children to our family:

Lower my expectations-I just can’t get as much done as I could before. One day it’ll change and I’ll have worked my way back up, but that day will not come any time soon. I need to be ok with that if I am going to be a nice person to be around.

Keep everyone on a schedule, but know when to throw it out and call the day “a wash” and when to hold that hill at all costs. There will be days to fight for naps and meals and days to call it a wash, stay in bed all day and read stories in our jammies. I pray I’ll know the difference.

Give myself grace. I can’t do it all. And in fact, now I can do even less. I have to be willing to let that go. My house is not going to be clean all the time. When it is, I should have a party. When it isn’t, I should leave the house.

I have grand schemes for the summer break. I am tempted to make a reasonable bucket list like many of my mommy friends have done. But I also don’t want to say I will do something only to realize that it is unreasonable at this point in the game.

So in the mean time I’m celebrating the fact that my daughter and my sons are dressed today, that I unloaded the dishwasher and loaded it, that I have something for dinner planned (though I don’t know if it’ll be well received…), that I got a shower and my hair fixed and talked to both of my best friends today, and that I even managed to unpack us all and put all our stuff away somehow. It’s celebrating the tiny victories each day that helps me make it to the next day.

What tiny victories are you celebrating today?

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