A juggle

I miss my eldest,

So I often take my youngest into her room to nurse while I sit with them both and watch them fall sleep.

Because this is the way I can make it work.

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I miss my youngest,

So I often read my eldest a story while I have her contact napping on me.

Because sometimes this is the only way I can make it work.

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I miss my middle child.

And so I often take whichever (or both) of my other little loves who enviably need something from me (or just me) to spend some quality time with him.

Because this can be the closest I get to making it work.

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This is my life with multiple children, at home with me the majority of the time.

These are the hours in the days when I am often outnumbered.

This is us right now.

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The juggle is real.

But the hardest part for me isn’t the physicality required, although that is exhausting.

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It’s that I miss them.

Each of them.

Because time on their own is scarce now,

And any I can find, slips through my fingers.

Because my hands are not enough,

Even though the fullness of my heart makes up for it.

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And sometimes the guilt of it all can tear me into pieces.

I want them all to have me, completely.

But what they get some days are the bits they can find.

The seconds, or thirds - not always the firsts.

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And so I find myself creeping into their rooms at night for one more cuddle, or kiss, or long awaited glance at them that was cut short all day.

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I find myself calculating who had less time with me today, so I can factor that in tomorrow.

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I find myself hoping I did enough each day for each of them.

Because I love them so much and I want them all to feel just how much that is.

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But maybe they do,

Maybe they feel it as strongly as ever,

Just in a different way.

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Maybe they feel it through each other.

Because it may not always feel obvious to me or them,

But right now I am the constant thread weaving them all together.

And they are becoming closer by the day.