The risks we take with kids – more kids, more risks? The risks less risky?

I take so many risks. I’m not sure if the risks I take now as a parent of three are greater or more severe than the risks I took as a parent of one (or two) OR if it just appears that way because the things I thought were risky back then are part of my very very every day now. Some things just are not safe, like leaving a kid alone with the knife set, the hair clippers, the nail clippers, or the play-doh. Other things are not so simple. Seemingly mundane decisions can be the riskiest of all.

I take so many risks.

The baby alone with the toddler.

The toddler alone with the 6 year old.

Myself alone with three kids.
The kids are safe from me; I’m just not sure if I’m safe from the kids.

Risks can be as small as forgetting to cut Max’s nails: the baby has a scratch from chin to cheek the next day – it’s not catastrophic, it’ll certainly heal.

Risks can be as large as dashing away from bath time for a split second at the sound of another child screeching: it could very well be catastrophic. But to whom do you attend? Are you always able to assess the greater risk at any moment?

And then there are the other risks, less obvious. Like deciding who naps and when. Who gets which wishes granted, and why? It’s all risky. There are countless decisions to make everyday. Starting at 5 am and rolling through to not only their bedtime, but mine. Because this mind doesn’t truly stop when mama says night-night. It gets to rest for a while, and I’m thankful for that, but it’s a chalkboard that gets erased and re-written ever hour, all the time.

I have more to say on this. Tomorrow, perhaps?
The risky business of parenting. Of three boys under one roof. Of motherhood. Of fatherhood. Of knowing nothing and being in charge of everything.

But it’s April 15th and taxes are due in T-3h:55m. We’ve procrastinated long enough and now it’s down to the wire. Another risky decision – at least this time we’ve left the kids out of it.