So I'm at the grocery store--a shopping trip squeezed between a WIC appointment this morning (we were re-cert'ing, which includes testing iron levels on toddlers and stripping babies for weigh-ins) and a dr's appointment for Jackson and I (this would be in an effort to lick this bout of thrush that we've been dealing with for almost a month). I am pushing one cart full of food that is separated into three portions: my purchases, church purchases, and WIC purchases. I am pulling a monstrous cart that is designed to look like a race car: it's seating Gabriel and Bronwyn, who are thrilled with the "wheels" they are using to "steer," and containing Jackson, carseat and blankets and all, in the intended-for-groceries cart bed. I think to myself that we must look really strange, and that people are either thinking it's super-cute or else they're using me as an example of why they never had children of their own. Since we live in the North Country, I'm hopeful and assuming there were a lot more of the former and none of the latter.

And then it dawns on me in a way that it has only dawned on me a few times prior: this is for real. This is my life. I'm not pretending or playing house or waiting for reality to arrive. There won't be a day when the toddlers don't whine and the infant doesn't scream until they're grown and gone. Same with taking walks and not having to stop every couple steps to re-tie shoes, pick up sippy cups that have been tossed overboard, and pop pacifiers back in mouths. Same with going to church and sitting through an entire sermon. And on it goes. I can't keep waiting for total serenity or else I'll be waiting until I die. This IS!

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I didn't even know if I was really being lucid or simply having a nervous breakdown. All I knew was that Bronwyn was pulling bag after bag of peanut M&Ms off the shelf and throwing them towards the cashier, Jackson was crying and making the mentally-handicapped grocery bagger stress out, Gabriel was having a meltdown--tears and all--because he had to go the bathroom and I was making him wait, and I was realizing that I keep dismissing such moments as these as "not real" when they are very much the reality of my life! Wake up, Brietta! Take it as is or else miss the whole thing!

So I laughed as I picked up the bags of candy and put them back. And, to my amazement, the cashier did too. And then, to my greater amazement, I paid for the groceries and began making my way to the van (picture me with both carts--one in front and one in back) and I didn't even feel like I needed to call Daniel and freak out in order to avoid laying my head on the steering wheel and bawling like a baby.

At the dr's, Bronwyn lost it. For whatever reason, she was going ballistic about being in the exam room and couldn't handle having the door closed. But I didn't lose it. I didn't even come close! And I didn't feel embarrassed when Katie (who is amazing and ought to do visits for every baby and child) took Jackson from my arms so I could pick up my wailing, snot-covered 20-month-old and try to bring some calm to the situation. I didn't even feel embarassed when she walked me all the way out to the van and helped me get the kids in their carseats.

One of the hardest things as a mom for me is when we're out and about and the kids aren't doing well (which, let's be honest, is a lot of the time). I almost always feel as though I'm being a horrible representation of parenting and family as God intended and that I'm re-inforcing every wrong attitude people have about children. But today, after my reality check, I was okay with where I'm at. The bottom line is that I have three kids who are not very old. For pete's sake, I'm not very old! I don't have it all together, and I'm not always good at what I do. There are a lot of days that include breakdowns somewhere along the way, and there are some days that just feel like one looooong breakdown. But it's okay. Because God's good at what He does--and that includes making up my lack.

So when people look at me and say they're sorry or impressed or that I'm crazy for being out alone with three young children, I can just smile and say, "Isn't it good that God's better than me at this?!"

NOTE: For those who have been praying, Jackson (who is 12 and 1/2 weeks old) weighed in today at 11lbs 3oz.  He has gained just about 3lbs since birth and just a few ounces less than that in the last 8 weeks (he was 4 weeks when we first realized he wasn't growing much). As you can see, he's doing well! I am very glad to see proven continued progress and appreciate the prayers that have been offered on his behalf.