One of the hardest things about having kids all close in age at the same time is that they all simultaneously lack in compassion.
No one understands that Theodore is just a baby or that he isn't as strong; that a tired Eleanor needs to be left alone; that when Abigail gets home from school, she just needs a few minutes to herself; or that Mommy has the flu and can't handle screaming at the moment. No one understands that there are things only Mommy and Daddy can do, like putting people in time out or giving Theodore more food. Three center-of-the-universes in one house. No one ever cuts anyone any slack.
Sometimes I don't even want to buy something unless I can buy three of it because sharing is simply impossible. Whoever thought communism could possibly work is a damned fool. The most basic, primal instinct of humanity is to clutch a possession, any possession, to your chest and scream: "THIS. IS. NOT. YOURS. (Theodore)."
I am on day #4 of the flu - I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep under the down comforter for the entire day, but that is as impossible as getting Eleanor to let Theodore in that tent for more than 10 seconds. I am exhausted and our fridge is in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store, but AT LEAST I got the kids their flu shots this year. Because the only way to make this week worse is to add the flu to each one of my three kids.