It's the third child...

It's the third child. The one that made you say you were "not ever, ever having another one" during what seemed like the 100th fit of the day. Yet when you put them to bed at night you think "how did we ever do life before them?"  

It's the third child. The one that at 1:57pm looked you right in the eye and said "I do not like you, Mama!" after you refused to read him his favorite book for the fourth time. And then, at 2:03pm, takes his chubby little hands, reaches up and squeezes your cheeks together and says "Mama, I love you too, too much!"

It's the third child. The one that you lift into your bed every night like clockwork at 3:30am. You say you're willing to break all of those "no kids in the parents bed" rules you had with the first two kids because  you will do anything to sleep through the night. But really, you sleep a little better when you hear his soft snores beside you and feel his toes digging into your side.

It's the third child. The one that gets everyone's hand-me-downs. But when you pull out a pair of his brothers pj's from last year and he sees them, he starts squealing "I love love love Cannon's jammies!"

It's the third child. The one that is fiercely independent. So independent that when he finally asks you to rock him or lay with him, you will. Every time. 

Yeah... I'm not having a fourth. But I am amazingly thankful I had my third. 

Things That Make Me Go Hmmmm : Laundry Edition

A couple of months ago, I was reading Real Simple magazine, and I stumbled over a statistic that totally floored me. Apparently, when couples stay in "traditional gender roles", the master bedroom sees more action than when couples split domestic duties!! Shocking, I know... 

[As a side note, I have my own theories on why this may be the case... Maybe I'll get into that in another blog post.]

In retrospect, one of my biggest mistakes in 33 years was sharing this tidbit with my hubby. He now very happily points out "traditional gender duties" that I should take on. Like the laundry. 

And I hate the laundry. The only certainty in doing the laundry is that I will want to wallow in the warm clothes as they come out of the dryer. The rest of the process - sorting, washing, drying, sorting, folding - is a crapshoot. 

1) After all these years, the whole "light" versus "dark" concept is really hard to nail each and every time. Take grey for example. Is that light or dark? Because grey is a mixture of black and white. Is the decision based on how grey something is? It's a sliding scale to me, and the decision is just too difficult at times. If the shirt belongs to the hubby, I just febreeze and rehang it. 

2) If lights are supposed to be washed in hot water and darks are supposed to be washed in cold water, why is there a "warm" setting? This only supports my theory that there clearly are not cut and dry categories in the laundry sorting world. Or I haven't read the manual thoroughly. 

3) Where do the socks go??!! Seriously?! I know this is cliche, but I swear I lose some poor child's sock each and every time I wash clothes. It's causing division among our family members and we are starting to suspect each other of thievery. 

4) How does the amount of clothes in the dirty clothes basket go from "I can wait another day before washing clothes" to "Every article of clothing we own is dirty" in 24 hours? When I see the massive piles of clothes, I shrink inwardly. The procrastination begins. And before I know what's happening, I am shaking out a plastic garbage bag so I can just throw them all away. 

5) Why do I run out of laundry detergent when I finally get the time and energy to wash load after load of clothes? In a mind-boggled state, I begin to question whether body wash or dish washing detergent would be a better choice? Or will hot water do the trick if I use three or four dryer sheets?

So many things in life are ambiguous. Laundry should not be one of them...