[ELARA'S POV]
Three months with three kids and I'd discovered the secret to survival.
Lower your standards. Way lower.
The house was a disaster. Toys everywhere. Dishes in the sink. Laundry piled so high it had achieved sentience and was plotting escape.
But all three kids were alive. Fed. Mostly clean. That counted as winning.
"Mama, Julian took my doll!" Isla yelled from the living room.
"Julian can't take anything. He's a baby." I was nursing Alexander. Again. Always nursing. My boobs were his personal all-you-can-eat buffet.
"Not baby Julian. Big Julian!"
We'd started calling them Big Julian and Baby Julian to avoid confusion. It was ridiculous but it worked.
Damian appeared with Big Julian on his hip. The toddler was indeed holding Isla's doll. Drooling on it.
"Trade you." Damian offered a truck. Big Julian grabbed it. Crisis averted.
"You're good at this." I said.
