To the Father at Sonic

To the Father at Sonic,

I don't know who at Sonic® created Happy Hour, but I applaud them. Upon waking from nap time, my boys and I frequently attend the local parks on Post, and if the boys were particularly well-behaved that morning, we'll stop by Sonic® on our way. Sometimes, we skip the park and enjoy our small Cherry Limeades in the restaurant chain's play area.

Today, I ordered, sent the boys scampering off to play and pushed Brig to a seat in the shade. You were there too, occasionally looking up from your tablet to give instructions to your own two year old boy. Glancing my way, you began to make small talk.

“They sure are crazy, aren't they?”

“Absolutely, they are,” I nodded. Just then, I shouted to Ben to go down the slide because, as you may recall, he was at the very top, straddling the sides and making my blood pressure spike.

“Are they all yours?”

"Yep."

“How old are they?” you asked, nodding in the direction of Fulton and Ben.

“My oldest is three – well four in a few weeks – and then he's two,” I pointed to Ben, who was now using the slide as intended, “and this little guy is ten months,” I said smiling proudly, putting my hand on Brigham's soft head. “They're all eighteen months apart.”

“Wow...” your voice trailed and after a bit you laughed and said, “I'm sorry!”

Normally, at this point in the conversation, I offer a smile and light laughter to placate whomever is pitying me in my domestic plight. But, today was different, because I didn't just smile and agree, I wandered away from the socially acceptable and spoke my truth.

“I'm not,” I responded firmly.

Startled, you looked at me. I wasn't speaking unkindly, but I was disagreeing with you. I realize that society says two children are perfect. Three may be acceptable to offset the genders, but having three of the same sex so close together? Let alone having more than three? On purpose? Improper. Classless. Irresponsible. Old-fashioned. Undesirable. Uncommon. Outrageous.

This seemed to bring an abrupt end to our polite chit-chat and for the remainder of the time, you buried your sunburned nose in your device. Which is fine. Really! I'm not much for social situations. But, I'm not going to lie. I sat there, sipping my half-priced Diet Cherry Limeade and wondered why people feel the need to express their dismay at my family-planning skills. Why is it alright for you to announce to the world your opinion on the correct number of children but it's not alright for me to do the same? I always wonder, “Do I look unhappy? Is my appearance frazzled? Why does everyone assume I'm miserable with three children so close in age?”

No, my boys weren't accidents. No, I don't care if I ever have a girl. You may smirk and laugh at me behind my back. I know my children aren't always well-behaved in the Commissary and strangers usually say the same thing. “My, you have your hands full!”

I used to smile and say, “Yup!” but, no more. Now when my boys and I come under scrutiny, I try to say something like, “You should see my heart,” or “There's nothing else I'd rather have them full of.” It has a tendency to make people uncomfortable, but if you're not prepared for a dissenting view, perhaps you should keep your thoughts to yourself.

Don't get me wrong. Not everyone I meet blatantly disagrees with my life choices.

Many older women approach me with fondness in their eyes and obvious love in their hearts as they stop me to recall raising their own small children who were also so close together in age. These women understand that nothing about waiting more time in between children can make up for those smiling faces, sticky hands and full hearts. When I see my boys hug each other and hear them express their love for one another, any personal sacrifices my husband and I make are validated. When they tell me, “Fulton (or Ben) is my best friend,” then I thank God that He was wise enough to give me these boys when He did.

It's not easy having three boys under the age of four. It comes with copious messes, fights, tears, and hand-me-down clothes. But it also means friendships, confidants, fort-building, shared rooms and conspiratorial late nights. As my boys ran around and chased each other on that Sonic playground, they were never alone. They are never lonely. They always have each other.

I don't have children for my benefit. Don't get me wrong. I love them. But, they're not accessories to my life. They are my life. My husband and children are the main event of my life. My love for them isn't reduced with each one I have, but multiplied. My young children don't need me to be their friend so much as their mother. They will have countless friends in their lifetime, but I'm the only mom they'll get. As a mother, I provide them with lifelong friends through siblings. And yes, that means I'll continue to have them close together.

I am fifteen months younger than my older sister. We were inseparable as children and have remained best friends throughout countless life events. Would we have been as close if we were two or more years apart? Probably. Possibly. I'm not trying to tell you that you're a bad father for not having more children, or that having one right after the other is the only right way to build a family. But, please understand that's it's also not the wrong way.

We are happy. We are content. We are healthy. We are strong. We are fulfilled. We are close. We are an eternal family. We thank God every day, several times a day, for our family. I am not sorry – in any fashion – for those three boys, and pray to be blessed with three more.

I know I'll continue to get stares from people as we leave the house, but that's a price I'm more than willing to pay. Those kids need each other and the world needs all of them.

Sincerely,

That mom at Sonic®