Before we had kids people asked us “when are you going to have kids?”

They’d casually pop the question into a conversation, almost as if they thought we’d never thought of having kids and they were presenting us with a brand new concept.

Once we had Harry Potter, people immediately started asking when we were going to have another child.

After AsthmaMan the questions about if we were trying for a girl started… I think before he even left the hospital.

Now we get the question, “are you done?”

I really want to respond to this question by asking people if it seems like we can handle another child.

Let’s just say, since the Princess arrived almost 20 months ago, no one ever has thought to themselves, “Yep, I think the Spreadsheets can handle another child”.

Not once.

Ever.

I see big families with kids that play nicely together, speak in inside voices, and sit.

We are… the opposite of those families.

Like so far on the other end of the spectrum that I can’t even imagine what life would be like with children that aren’t running in opposite directions.

Can I paint you a quick picture of what it is like to go to the store with the little Spreadsheets?

It’s like taking three rabid wild animals out in public. They’re screaming, trying to lunge at everything and everyone, and putting every piece of random trash they find  in their mouths.

It’s a thing of beauty and horror all at the same time.

It’s like a tragic accident you can’t look away from, or a terrible cut that you sneak a peak at.

It’s bad.

Can I tell you what it’s like to be home with the little Spreadsheets?

First off, reading about it can’t do it justice because the volume doesn’t come through on the screen.

There are days when Mr. Spreadsheets gets home and my brain no longer works. He asks me a question and there’s no more brainpower left to process what he’s saying so I just say “uh huh”.

That’s how loud they are… from the moment they wake up… until the moment they go to sleep.

There’s also a LOT of fighting, throwing toys, tantrums, making food no one will eat but that they specifically requested, and begging people to go to the bathroom (ok seriously, why is this a thing?).

And going anywhere takes FOREVER and a year.

So nope, pretty sure three is the limit.

But there are also some fantastic things about three kids.

Three keeps us just crazy enough to stay humble. I never think to myself “hey I’ve got a handle on this parenting thing.”

Who knows, maybe if there were just two, there might be times when I caught up on laundry and dishes, and congratulated myself a bit too much.

Three insures that someone is almost always left out, but that they are all REALLY tough and good at expressing their opinions.

Every.single.one.

Three guarantees there is always a bad guy for each game, it allows them to gang up on mom and dad, and it’s just enough kids that the sound of laughter is present all day every day.

Three kids is a lot of kids.

I’m not going to lie, three kids is really a lot of kids for me.

But it’s also great.

It’s loud, and messy (really messy), but just fun enough to make you keep going.

I keep telling people, three is the new five. If I say it enough times with enough conviction sooner or later people will catch on.

So yes, three is a our limit… trust me three is our limit, but we are grateful every day for the three little monsters we have.