Life in the Fast Lane, with Three Boys Under Four

Written by Hannah Marriott - Boom Buddy Family The Marriott/Fallon

People often say, "Enjoy every moment, it goes so fast."

What they don't say is that those moments often involve someone crying, someone climbing the furniture, and someone else shouting "Muuuuum!" from a different room while you're just trying to drink a cup of tea that's been reheated three times.

I am a mum of three boys, all aged four and under. Life in our house is less "calm family home" and more "extreme sport."

Every morning begins with optimism. I wake up thinking today will be the day we are organised. Clothes laid out, healthy breakfast, maybe even leaving the house on time.

Within ten minutes someone has tipped cereal on the floor, someone else has decided trousers are optional, and the baby has done a nappy that defies both science and physics.

By 8am I've already run the equivalent of a small marathon and the house is already covered in Coco Pops.

The real challenge though is time. Three small people all wanting the same thing, my attention, at exactly the same time.

The baby wants feeding.

The toddler wants picking up.

The four year old urgently needs me to watch him jump off the sofa for the 47th time.

Apparently this is a very important performance.

"Mum look!"

"Mum watch this!"

"Mum you didn't look!"

I did look. I'm just also trying to stop your brother from eating a crayon.

Then there's the noise.

People often ask me what it's like having three boys.

Imagine living inside a small zoo, but the animals are permanently sticky and occasionally bite each other.

Someone is always roaring like a dinosaur. Someone is crashing cars into the skirting boards. Someone is asking "why?" repeatedly until you start questioning your own understanding of the universe.

I've actually grown to trust the loudness. If the house suddenly goes quiet, I become instantly suspicious. Silence in a house with three small boys rarely means anything good. It normally means yogurt is being smeared on the cupboards or the kids are colouring each other in.

Yes, both of those things have actually happened.

On one particular occasion, one child ended up with orange hands, a pink tummy and whiskers drawn across his face. The other was simply covered head to toe in squiggles. But we always try to find the positive in every situation, and thankfully no one had drawn on the floors or the walls this time.

All my kids leave the house looking very well presented, matching outfits, brushed teeth, clean faces, bathed regularly.

Me on the other hand, I can't actually remember if I brushed my teeth or if I just thought about brushing them.

Splitting your time between them is a constant mental juggling act. You want each child to feel special, noticed and loved, but when you have three tiny humans needing you simultaneously, sometimes all you can do is spin around in circles hoping nobody notices you're making it up as you go.

I haven't quite managed to be brave enough to leave the house with all three on my own yet, so we keep busy at home to stop things getting too repetitive.

We colour, paint, make slime, bake far more baking than any household realistically needs. There is play dough, kinetic sand and a constant rotation of crafts happening at the kitchen table.

I never thought I would be so happy to see a bit of sunshine, because it means we can get out in the garden and suddenly a whole new world of activities opens up.

My boys love looking for bugs, although they won't actually touch them, and we do plenty of water play. Bath toys appear outside and the sand pit somehow becomes part paddling pool, part science experiment.

And yet somehow in the middle of all the chaos there are these tiny moments that make your heart burst.

The baby isn't laughing yet, but he has started smiling and cooing, and it feels like the sweetest little conversation between us.

My four year old constantly tells me how much he loves me and that I'm his best friend. Those words have a way of stopping you in your tracks.

The toddler runs over for completely random cuddles, usually when you need them most.

Yes, my tea is always cold.

Yes, someone is always shouting my name.

Yes, I sometimes hide in the kitchen for thirty seconds of peace.

But one day the toys will be packed away. The noise will quieten down. And the house that once felt like a circus will feel strangely calm.

And if I'm honest, that thought already makes me feel a little bit sad.

So yes, life is loud and chaotic right now. Sometimes it is absolute hell, I have to be honest.

But I wouldn't change it for the world.

If anything, I wish I could just stop time for a little while and stay right here in the middle of the noise, the Coco Pops, the cuddles and the chaos.