Being a good one.

You know that saying, "Whatever you are, be a good one."? I love that saying.

I adore being a homemaker. To me, it's thrilling, challenging, engaging, freaking hilarious and so fulfilling. I'm managing, delegating and problem-solving 24 hours of the day. What's not to like? I feel like I use my head all day long, and there are so many days that I still never get it all done. I like having stuff left on my to-do list, because I have a plan for tomorrow. I just love what I do so passionately. I'm sort of like that guy who works in a random factory and does nothing but count things coming off a conveyor belt, and people watch him whistle off to work every morning and concentrate all day long, like he's doing something that no one can possibly replicate. Well, except that I'm actually doing something that no one can actually replicate.

Today has been our busiest by far since we 4 struck out on our own, post-surgery. I woke up and realized that Claire is 4 weeks today. As I'm usually pretty organized, but not reliably so, I knew that that meant that she probably had a well-baby visit that I forgot to save on my phone calendar. Yeah. And by the time I remembered to call the pediatrician and ask, we had 20 minutes to get dressed and get there. We flew out the door and I actually remembered to grab everything I needed. A miracle.

We stopped at the Post Office to mail two boxes. One containing some treats for my brothers and parents, and one (huge) box to mail to Lisa. That box was covering Ben's birthday in Feb, Lisa's in March, Mother's Day, Lydia, and Josiah's birthday this past Sunday. To be fair, I've been busy, and Josiah's awesome gift will make up for it. I think. Claire decided that the tiny, echoey, packed post office would be the perfect place to come unglued. She was right. It was pretty much an inspired performance, which is probably why Molly decided to climb a rack of boxes and labels and Lucy happened to stand in front of me so I could trip over her. They're really a team when it comes to making things complicated.

We got to the pedi with time to space, miraculously. Claire has gained a TON of weight, going from 8 pounds 2 ounces to 9 pounds 8 ounces in 13 days. Rockstar fat baby. Love her. She's also grown an entire inch, which is why we're starting to fly through baby clothes! Her pediatrician reminded me that she needs to nurse for at least 6 months, but preferably 12. Like he needs to tell me twice. One quick check of my bank balance is proof that I seriously can't afford to give my little piggie formula. If Claire goes to formula, the rest of us will starve, the way she eats.

We went from the pedi to the bank, where all three girls had a mini-meltdown, putting us in a prime spot for groccery shopping. $166 and three tantrums later, we took a quick second to have a mini-pizza in the little food court at Target. Lucy loves to "sit and eat," so it was a special treat for her!

From Target to Church, where I met my dear friend Allison for a quick exchange, a hug, some baby-cooing and some conversation. I have no idea how people survive the post-partum period without loving friends. My friends have just made a world of difference in my recovery. I just can't think about where I'd be today if I hadn't joined that journal group last winter. What a wonderful group of women, and what a blessing each one of them is to me.

From Church to home. Called Grandpa Dick on the way for a little love and laugher. If he's not the cutest, I don't know who is. As we pulled into the driveway, things erupted again. I brought all the groceries in and somehow, everyone is in bed and napping, 20 minutes later.

So why is it important that we got through today? Today was busy, busy, busy. I was overwhelmed at times, but managed to keep my cool and keep a smile on my face. These girls are so funny and precious. Each day with them (and their adorable daddy!) is just a wonderful gift. Just knowing what I know about them so far, I know that each of them has so much to offer this world, and I'm so proud to be their mama. Getting through the craziness with a smile is a gift to them, because they're watching me so closely. If Mama's frustrated with her day, they can't understand "why" yet. All they know is that I'm frustrated, and it may be their fault. It so rarely is their fault, but they don't know the difference, do they? So navigating the chaos with a cool head isn't really just something to be proud of, but something I owe to my kids. Keeping myself energized and organized to make sure our day is smooth is really an obligation as much as anything else I do for them. Some days it's just pure exhaustion, but mostly, we manage.

Oh, here's a good one. 20 minutes ago. I had a car full of Target stuff, cold groceries, sundry items, (LOVE that word) and other various things. I was making trips back and forth, Molly sleeping near the garage door, Claire snoozing in her carrier right next to the door. A yellow-jacket flies in the the garage, and I freak. The door to the house is wide open. It slowly flies into the house. And then back out. And then back in. I'm freaking the freak out. Whisper-screaming, "Oh *$%!" Oh $#%*! Get out here! No! I can't kill you! Oh $#%! Come back! No!" Holding a million pounds of groceries. Waiting for the stupid yellow-jacket to commit. I start hopping around, running in and out of the garage, trying to figure out how I'll handle parenting my children from the front yard while I wait until 5pm for Daddy to get home. I consider getting my elderly next-door neighbor to kill it. As it flies out of the garage, having thought better of going into the house, I whisper-scream, "I hate you!" and run past it for the door. Of course, I still have a car full of frozen food. So I open the front door, close the garage door and work as fast as I can before the crazy bee finds the other entrance. It was stressful.