I have to confess, I am stressed and busy and my kids run every aspect of my life …and I love it.

When I delivered Benjamin, I had a broken leg which left me unable to walk or put any weight on it at all. So, I sat in my bed mostly, or on the couch with the baby in my arms while Andrew ran around and tackled the chores of the house and responsibilities of my four year old and 20 month old. As I was unable to move and walk, I wished I could. It’s not in my personality to just sit.

Weeks have gone by, and we are getting into the stages of defining our normal with this new really adorable addition. This normal, until I go back to work, is me staying at home with the kids while Andrew goes to work.

During the day, I am “in charge” of getting three kids up, dressed and Abigail ready for school, getting breakfast and packing lunches. Getting coats on, catching the bus, changing diapers, wiping faces, nap times, refereeing play time and doing whatever I can to entertain a 20 month old while I nurse my baby which seems to be constant. (Don’t judge but this mostly consists of the iPad or a movie) Then there is the household things, like cleaning up the never ending toys that are scattered around my entire house, unloading dishes, laundry, cleaning toys again ….didn’t I just do that?! Preparing dinner, cleaning up dinner, and getting the house “closed up” to do it all again tomorrow. These are the including examples, not the “limited to” examples of things which fill my day.

At night, after those chores are done, I sit on the bed getting ready to pump at 1 am….mentally preparing myself for my 5 am wake up call from the baby.

And in three weeks, I will be doing all of this stuff while working from my home office from 8:30-5.

All of this stuff doesn’t need or warrant recognition or a pat on the back. It’s my job. I’m a mom. I chose this.

I do all of this with a baby in my arms. Constantly. It’s my fault. Going back to the broken leg thing, I held my baby constantly. I felt useless, so holding him felt right. I felt like I was needed and it was the only thing I could do to contribute. So I did it. Constantly. Now, my peanut, has learned he cannot be content when not in my arms. (Or on my boob) This is alllllllll the time. Night and day.

I’m pretty exhausted. Running around all day, I just want to dive in my bed and snooze the night away. I can’t. I finally hit the end of my daily chore list at 1:30 in the morning – when I pump, only to have the little one realize he’s not in my arms and wake up crying. So I pick him up, remove blankets and my favorite bulky pillow from around me, lay back slightly and prop him in my arm and let him sleep. I sacrifice my own sleep for him.

During the day, for example this morning, I am rushing around to get the day started. I quickly jumped in the shower …didn’t even think about shaving my legs, held the baby on my lap as I dried my hair. After all, the sound of the hair dryer puts him to sleep! (Disclaimer To this is I do not shower everyday! I am not super mom!) Got the other two dressed and downstairs. Held the baby in my arms as I made waffles, cut up waffles and stood while holding that same baby – feeding Jackson because I didn’t want syrup to end up all in his hair.

At one point, I put the baby down because I needed to carry Jackson to his high chair. He cried, and Abigail yells “Benjamin, we need mommy too right now and there is only one of her.”

She’s right. My kids are four, 21 months and 2 months. They are all babies. They all need me. They need me to hold them, cuddle them, carry them, take care of them.

I sometimes sigh and complain during my day. I take deep breaths and wonder how I am going to get through my day doing what needs to be done while holding this infant. Deep down, I love it. I love this feeling of being needed. I love this sweet cuddly infant in my arms knowing that he feels safe and secure. I love putting down the dishes and watching him smile in his sleep knowing that I fostered that smile.

And today, when Abigail made that (what I believed to be profound) statement, I love it. I love that even though I forget to look at it in that way, my other kids need me.

To me, getting kids dressed, making meals, packing lunches, catching buses, cleaning toys for the millionth time, snuggling and reading bedtime stories, even disciplining when their behavior is slightly out of control is a pain, a chore, just another thing to do.  But, to them, this is just me being a mommy. This is them needing me. This is them needing me to help them feel safe and complete. When I do these things, I don’t get a pat on the back, I don’t get a thank you, I don’t get a bonus if I do it all well. What I do get is random hugs and kisses and ‘I love yous’ and get to hear their delightful squeals as they play. I get to see their smiles when they get exactly what they wanted for breakfast or lunch on their favorite plate. I help them feel safe, I comfort them and make them feel independent and secure. I fostered that. I foster their happiness.

I love it.

Some people may think I spoil my babies. Holding them all the time, catering to their wants, certainly making sure they have what they need…..but I kinda think they are spoiling me. I love it.

In fact, last night we tried the bassinet for the baby for the first time. He slept until 3, stirred but quickly fell back to sleep once I gave him the passy. Then at 5, he woke up and just wanted to snuggle. I scooped him up quickly and laid there holding him tight as he nuzzled his head near my chest and slept without a worry in the world. Oh my gosh, I missed him so much last night.

So for now, in these little stages of life, I will try and breath through the times where I can’t even pee during the day or my arms are so tired from holding little ones….I know this won’t last. I love it. I will certainly miss it when it’s gone.