Being busy: a blessing not a burden

The #1 response I get when I say I have 3 boys, 3 and under is- "Wow, you must be busy."  To which I casually reply "Yep but I love it." And for the most part I truly do. In our go, go, go, world being busy has become the new norm. That doesn't mean that being busy doesn't come with its fair share of headaches. Exhibit A: in the midst of running errands (which is a fancy way of saying going to Target) , going to the doctor,  bringing my oldest to swim lessons. I did that mom thing. I locked my keys in my car.  I have no idea how I did it.  It was as though I had loaded my 46 bags into the car and thought they could just drive home while my 3 year old and I found a non-existent Uber. Thankfully I was in West Fargo where the police most generously help damsels in distress as part of their routine. When the officer arrived (who I call Ken, because he was a doppelganger of Barbie's main squeeze, plastic hair and all), he got to work. At one point he called for back up- yes back up and yes for my keys. Meanwhile I am trying to present myself like a cool, calm, collected adult even though my breast milk is about to start flowing out of me like a sprinkler and my child is minutes away from hangry stage.

Why am I telling you this story you wonder? Here's why. Along with my keys, I had locked my phone in my car. See, if I hadn't locked my phone in my car, I would have found many reasons to scroll my oh so snazzy iPhone.... 6S and fill that time to make myself unnecessarily busier.  For those 30 minutes, while the officer tried to fish my key fob through the window I was forced to be present. I was making memories with my son.  He came home that night so excited that he met an officer and told my husband how he even got a high-five.

Exhibit B is less idyllic. Sometimes the busyness of being a boy mom doesn't present itself in an anecdotal paradise. Sometimes it is just chaos. Like the one time at Target when 2 of my 3 boys were throwing a tantrum as if they were going for gold in the toddler Olympics. So much so that three complete strangers offered to help me. Then the little hoodlums decided it would be best just to lay down in the parking lot and go limp. When you only have 2 hands and your cart is full of diapers and Market Pantry brand everything; you have 1 of 3 choices: A) wait it out B) pray that one stops and just gets up C) accept help. I chose C. The 3rd lovely person to offer help was the not-so lucky winner. The bright side to this is that my husband no longer wonders why I buy EVERYTHING online including sponges.

The overwhelming part of being busy, the part that steals those precious kid-free hours, that part is on me. I strongly believe that any wife, mom, or person will find ways to occupy their time and fill it to the brim. Being busy is something everyone struggles with and there is a fine line between  (insert any Hobby Lobby sign about living life to its fullest) and swimming upstream. To me, it simply means that I raised my hand when life asked, "Who wants in?"

Sure, 3 boys is a lot of work but I would argue any one is just as busy in their own right. Besides, how does that old cliche go? "find something you love and you will never work a day in your life." Turns out... I found it. Well more like I found them.  Snotty nosed, bottomless bellied, dirt loving boys are my thing and they make my go, go, go, world go round.