Schooled.

I am headed back to work tomorrow morning, after being home with my boys now for the past 12 weeks. I can not believe how quickly these last 3 months have passed...

It seems like just yesterday morning (April 22nd) I was standing in front of Ms. Jones' class when my cell phone rang out with our travel call...  Without even looking, I knew exactly who it was, and I knew exactly why she was calling. Our social worker was surprised at how "calm" I was, and asked me if I was excited.  (Of course, she knew that was a silly question...) She asked me why I wasn't "freaking out?"  

I remember telling her, "J.D., this is the 3rd time (becoming parents) for us.  I have a lot of work to do now, in a very short time.  I'll freak out when I'm on that airplane."

I learned very distinct lessons each time one of my sons entered our lives. If asked, I could narrow it down to one emphatic message that replayed itself over and over in the early days of our lives together, as I was getting to know each of these boys. With Theo, it was, "It isn't all about me, and I am not in control."  

And with Emmett came knowing, "There is no limit to how much I can love."

The theme that has been resounding all around me and inside of me and through and through and through me since the first moment I laid my eyes on my youngest child, my baby boy , has been, "I am so much stronger than I ever could have realized without you."

Of course, the lessons abound when I take all three of them into consideration, at the same time. Perhaps one of my favorites is:

~Being a neat freak and a mother to 3 little boys under the age of 5 are not mutually agreeable roles.  In order to maintain some semblance of sanity, I have to relinquish one... and my boys aren't going anywhere!!

And, three more lessons JUST from today:

~Always store spackling paste in high, secure places.  If it's quiet in the mud room, spackle just might be the reason why.

~Never allow Emmett, Rubin, AND Puddles in the bathroom immediately after Theo has gone potty. Especially if he's forgotten to flush. 

AND (perhaps my favorite...)

~Poop goes in the potty. NOT on the kitchen floor. (The song might have forgotten to mention that last piece.)

I'm not sure if it's because I'm *a little* emotional about returning to work this week (I thought I was going to be okay! I'm supposed to be an old hat at this!) or I've just reached my breaking point and I'm flipping delirious... Either way, I have to say:

I've loved every minute I've had with each of these boys. Every wonderful, awful, dirty, loud, crazy, unorganized, nail-biting, hair-pulling, squealing, appealing second. I'll take the poopy lessons with the warm-fuzzy ones any day of the week. I'm so proud of everything they've taught me already, and I can't wait to learn more, more, more.