I barely made it to the parking garage after discovering I was expecting twins when I first heard the phrase that would echo through my life for the next two years: “Wow,” the ultrasound technician remarked while examining my belly, “three under three. You’re going to have your hands full.” Indeed, I thought, as I wiped away the excess lubricant pooling at the small of my back. Yes, my hands would be quite full.
When we shared the news with family, we were met with variations of the same shock: “But you live in a two-bedroom house. That means five people in two bedrooms! And you don’t even have a garage!” I wasn’t sure who they thought we would stash in the garage, but they had a point. Their next question, as they peered into my little silver hatchback, was, “How will you fit three car seats and a double stroller in there?” A fair question, indeed.
Even in the maternity ward, moments after delivering the twins, the lactation consultant assessed my situation and said, “That’s eight feedings a day for each of them,” as if tallying a dinner bill. Then she leaned in, almost confidentially, over my left breast, declaring, “that’s 16…if you’re lucky.” Unfortunately, we weren’t so lucky, averaging around 20 feedings daily in those early months with my insatiable little ones.
Our inaugural trip to Costco for what would become our weekly stash of diapers drew the cashier’s sympathy as she glanced at my oldest, who has special needs and will remain in diapers for the foreseeable future, and at the twins nestled in my carrier. “Three in diapers? That’ll add up,” she said. She was spot on as we stared at the total displayed on the register.
As my maternity leave ended, human resources kindly calculated the cost of daycare for all three kids. Even with a generous 50% discount, my paycheck transformed into a bill. We were in negative territory. The math of supporting five people on a single income was quite the challenge. While it did save us some money, it certainly didn’t do wonders for my mental well-being. When people noticed my entourage approaching, I would receive sympathetic pats and hugs along with the familiar refrain amidst the cries of one or three kids: “There’s only 24 hours in a day. You can’t do it all.” My unspoken response was, “If I don’t, then who will?”
On the twins’ first day of preschool, I brought along their older brother. Their new teacher asked about his age, and upon hearing it, she gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks in a dramatic Munch-worthy expression. “Oh dear,” she exclaimed, “three college tuitions at once? Goodness!” That prompted me to rush home and search for Gerber college funds and health savings plans.
As time passed, some challenges faded, but the most frequent reminder remained the same: “The days are long, but the years are short.” While I’m still trudging through the lengthy days of potty training and wiping noses, I can’t yet confirm this wisdom but suspect that one day I will look back and marvel at how quickly it all went by.
I always had a knack for math. While I may not be a genius, I could hold my own in calculations. Thus, none of this was entirely shocking — the obvious truths encountered throughout my early journey as a mother. Mostly, I took these comments as small acknowledgments of our struggles and the fact that someone recognized the effort we put in. However, I think next time I see a mom with three kids under three, I might just gift her a Starbucks card and keep my insights to myself.
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Summary
Navigating the challenges of raising three children under three years old can feel overwhelming, from logistical hurdles to financial strains. Yet amidst the chaos, there are moments of humor and unexpected wisdom. Despite the long days, the years seem to fly by, and the support from others, though sometimes unsolicited, reveals a shared understanding of the trials of motherhood.