The most joy

 It has been a wild, fast seven months since Yossi landed in our lives. Now he's establishing his place in our family of five, and his brother and sister are settling down and also showing us new variations on every parent's favorite theme, jealousy.

 Sometimes Lilit and Avi fight over Yossi,  as in, "I asked to hold him first!" Or, "I got him already!" the latter making me laugh and cringe all at once.  Seriously, you guys are fighting over the baby? I have now seen it all.

 The mother of one of Lilit's school buddies suggested that as a mother of 3, I must have all kinds of routines. I tried not to laugh in her face, because I don't know her that well, but I might not have been able to stifle a snorting sound. On a fun side note, Lilit has been "getting married" to this friend on a daily basis at school.  These "weddings" consist mostly of dress up and preparation for a ceremony--Lilit tells me that first, they marry themselves.

 She is turning 4 on Monday!!! And she is sassy, fabulous and my favorite girl. Ever. Big on secrets, she confided yesterday that I am "the best mommy in the world!" And then she proceeded to tell me "no" as often as she possibly could. She has been challenging me mercilessly, in a way I imagine only girls can. I learn from her every moment. She and Avi have beautiful moments and horrible ones. Yossi worships her and she both dotes on him and needs to be watched closely lest she close her hands around his throat, all with an innocent smile, of course.

 I get asked a lot about having 3 children. It's pretty great. Not anything profound to say just yet as we are so in it.

 I don't want them to get pigeon-holed into roles, eg, Avi is a picky eater, Lilit is a girly girl, Yossi, well, it's too early for him to be anything other than sweet and delicious. He may stay that way. But everything changes. All the time.

 This girl is having a fairy party on Sunday. In our backyard. I can't get Sunday to arrive fast enough.

 And this boy is sitting like a bruiser, eating hummous like a boss, and chatting like he has something profound to say.

 I suspect he does.

 And while in the moment-to-moment of the work week, when my train is running late and I arrive home anxious and distraught that I am missing out on how the baby is growing, the end of the day resets my equilibrium. Their cheeks replenish me. I know I could be up all night with this boy, and it's okay. I treasure it all. The mess, the fatigue, the most joy I have ever felt in my life.