Now that fall is here, our Saturdays are spent at the soccer fields. I’m officially a soccer mom and Har is getting better and better each game. She was on the team last spring, but as her first organized team sport, it felt more like she was getting aquainted with the game rather than really focusing on the skill of the game.
And while she was chasing the ball around the field, I felt like I was chasing after Avery and Macks. I couldn’t focus on Har’s game because I was running my own game with the other two. It was chaos.
Last week at Har’s game, a dad of one of the girls from the team made a comment about us having three kids. He kept telling us how tough he it must be. Especially with them being so young.
I’ve never been shy about telling anyone this, but the transition to three kids was harder than I ever imagined. I’ve been challenged in more ways than I would have thought. And I’ve cried more times than I’d like to admit.
The juggle of all three was sometimes harder than I thought I could handle. Even when I was so confident I could handle anything, they’d throw me a curve ball and prove that I couldn’t.
The dad at the soccer field was right. Three is tough.
But the great thing about all of our challenges in the past (nearly) two years? We’re finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel (for now at least.)
The kids are growing up. They are becoming self-sufficient. Their chaos is winding down.
We’re finding that we have many more calm moments than crazy chaotic ones.
And I can finally sit down and watch the soccer games, rather than run my own.
