Burgers, fries, and an extra side of Willie.

Friday, April 15, 2016

You'd think with the amount of sleep I'm getting, the last thing I would want to do is go out in public alone with my three. A month ago, I would have said that was crazy talk. There's a very fine line between "Kids, don't even ask me to feed you" tired and, " about some cereal?" tired. And oddly enough, the less sleep I get the more prone I am to the latter reaction. Maybe it's my brain's way of saying, "I give up. I'm at least i'm alive. Might as well do something." Does that make sense to anyone?

Anyway. I piled the kids in the car and we decided on Five Guys for lunch. I can't for the life of me figure out why the kids love to eat the peanuts there SO much other than they just like making a big mess with the shells. S ordered a cheeseburger, and J a hot dog. I love how he eats his hot dogs. First he eats the hot dog and then he eats the bun. It's really quite adorable. 

At one point, a man wearing a braid on either side of his head walked in. S was convinced that it was Willie Nelson (although he didn't look a thing like him) and it took me a solid five minutes to convince her otherwise. I then spent another few minutes convincing her that Willie probbbbably wouldn't be walking into this specific Philly Five Guys any time soon. I think that conversation ended with her demanding,"Well, why not?!" And I answered with a, "He's just not going to! And that's it."

Later on, another man passed by us as we were eating, looked at the kids and the baby in the carseat next to me, and he said, "Are they all yours?"

Guys. My heart soared.

I've never been asked that before, because, well, I guess with two, it seems entirely plausible that they would be mine. Plus, people were probably too busy scratching their heads trying to figure out if mine were twins or not.

But "they!" They! Yes, they are all mine! I made every single one of them.

I think I answered with a much-too-enthusiastic "yes!" And I was so proud at that moment. Chris' Granny says one shouldn't be proud, but that there are certain things to be proud of.

As I look back and read this and think about that moment when I quickly glanced around at all three, I think about how there were moments would I just break down and cry because of the aches from this last pregnancy. I would turn to my husband and tell him that I wasn't sure I could handle it. We would pray that I would make it a night without terrible pain. When I look at little O, I know it was all worth it. And now that I think of it, maybe it's not pride that I feel. Maybe it's just gratitude. Grateful that I was able to bring these three little people into the world when at one point, I didn't even know if that would be an easy possibility. I'm just grateful. 

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