Three for Three

A couple Christmas ago I was riding in the backseat of my brother’s car on Dad’s Durham Family Christmas Lights Caravan tour. I squished between my two nieces in their car seats: 4 year-old Chloe on my right, 1 year-old Piper on my left.

My brother and his wife (six months pregnant with Sadie) sat up front. I was in charge of keeping the girls entertained so we sang a bunch of Christmas carols. But after singing “Once There was a Snowman” about 8 times in a row I got really tired. As we drove past the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon on our way to see the lights at La Caille, Chloe said,

“Laura, how about when Sadie is born you take Piper.”
“Why would you want me to take Piper?” I said (after I laughed). Chloe answered, quite practically,
“I don’t think three is OK.”

Chloe must have had a lot of faith in this unborn sister to be willing to sacrifice the one she already knew for the sake of three being too many.

Last Sunday I took on the challenge of tending all three girls for three hours at my home. Every time I agree to tend the girls a wave of relief and gratitude overcomes Carter and Kelly – you’d think I paid off their mortgage or something.

Somehow I pulled it off.

We ate lunch.

We barked at the dog next door.

We tried to watch A Bug's Life.

Piper showed me her Cheerio trick.

Showed me her puppy impression.

Chloe helped in the kitchen.

We had a jelly belly hunt.

Aunt Lisa came to visit.

Their cousin Jack tried to get away.

Then we had a screaming match. My idea. It was a bad one. For some reason I thought if everyone screamed real loud once they would stop. But they didn't. This went on for what seemed like an eternity.Although I absolutely adore them all and life would not be complete without all three, I’m beginning to wonder if Chloe makes a valid argument.

One day if I have more than two kids they’ll read this and think how horrible their mommy is and ask me which one of them I wanted to give up.