They told me it would happen this way.
“It doesn’t really get easier, just different,” friends warned. Never tell a woman literally bloody from breastfeeding that parenting only gets harder. Seriously.
Nobody said parenting would be easy, and it hasn’t been. But lately I’ve been struck by how complicated things get as kids get older. The black-and-white of toddlerhood evolves into a less certain gray as children grow.
Can I allow baby b. to climb on the counter and play with knives? Of course not. But how about sending Twin A. off on a playdate with someone who may not be a good influence on him? What about encouraging Twin B. in a friendship that he’s been hurt in before? And what about sports and extracurricular activities? Do I allow them to be on the same team, knowing their tendencies to compare and compete with each other? What if separating them means one boy can't participate at all? Is that fair?
It makes the diapers and bottles seem like a piece of cake. (Notice I didn’t say breastfeeding. Nope. Breastfeeding the twins still ranks right up there as one of the most miserable pursuits of my life.)
I love my boys, all three of them. I’m thankful for the Moms who have gone before me who have offered endless wisdom for the specific issues we’re dealing with now. And, more than ever, I’m aware of how desperately I need God’s grace and wisdom for this parenting journey.