Friday, 24 April 2015
3 really is the magic number
So I'm not saying that everyone who has three kids has got life sussed. That those with fewer are deficient or enumerate. That those with more have overachieved, overshot the mark. It is to be hoped that everyone has the brood that suits them. And there are problems with three. Namely the noise. Oh my god the noise. Sometimes everybody needs and nobody gets. Somebody you get what somebody else has already had, and if you're number three sometimes you get what everybody else has already had. Sometimes you just don't fit. People think twice before having you round. Travelling is complicated. Keeping up with school timetables is a nightmare. Social lives and activities are a complex network of intermeshing cogs that at best grinds creakily along and at worst crushes everyone in its rusty maw.
And yet, I think the trio is brilliant. So many possibilities. I've heard a number of people say that with three, one always gets left out. But in my experience, three means that any time you need to, one of you can take a moment for yourself, it's not so full on, being three diffuses tension. Being three means points of view are multiple, not a head-on battle. Being three means when maman and papa are busy, you can muddle through together, make breakfast, get dressed, decorate the walls with your artwork... We spent an afternoon in the sunshine this week, we just hung out on the grass together. We didn't really do anything but it struck me: we are a party all on our own!