Two lovely older ladies and I crossed paths during a neighborhood walk this morning. My preschooler and toddler were in the double stroller, and my infant was strapped to my chest. With loving-kindness (and perhaps a dose of pity) in their voices, the ladies remarked…
“Gosh, you sure have your hands full.”
It’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Actually, I’ve heard it on the regular lately. At the grocery store… on the soccer field… in the doctor’s office… at the park… and pretty much anywhere I’m spotted with my three kids in tow. [How disheveled do I look, y’all?!] Each time it’s the same observation, “You really have your hands full.” And each time I offer the same response.
“If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart.”
It never fails to catch them off guard.
Here’s my reality. I have three children ages four and under. I am in the trenches. The TRENCHES. And I will be camping out here for the foreseeable future (or at least until I encounter the next nostalgic individual who reminds me that time passes lightning fast, in which case I better start packing ’em up for college NOW).
It is true… my hands are indeed crazy full. And gross. My hands are crazy gross. I swear I spend 99.9% of my day cleaning up pint-sized excretions. Poo. Pee-pee. Boogs. Regurgitated whatever. Boo-boo blood. You name it. My hands are also crazy tired, crazy callused (thank you infant car seat), crazy unmanicured, crazy busy, and crazy just crazy. Juggling — my hands rock at that too. And some (most) days my hands simply want to throw in the towel.
These mucky trenches are hard.
Yet my reality also goes a little something like this. I have three children. Three beautiful, wonderful, deeply-loved children, handpicked for me by Heaven. I know with certainty that I don’t deserve them. Nonetheless I have the privilege of waking up to their dimpled smiles every single day, the honor of raising them into humble and kind human beings (shout out to Tim McGraw), and the joy of tackling this “zone defense” with an MVP daddy.
My heart is indeed CRAZY full. It beats (pounds) for that girl and boy in the double stroller and the baby strapped to my chest. The love runneth over.
My hands are full, they soooo are. But my hands got nothin’ on my heart.