I took this picture exactly ELEVEN YEARS AGO today (baby feet and toesies!), and I honestly don't remember the day-to-day of those years when I had a newborn, a 1 year old and a 3 (almost 4) year old.
Two of them in diapers at the same time (RIP stinky Diaper Genie, you worked some damn OVERTIME), carting two of them around in a double stroller while sometimes Eldest would walk, or else I'd put Youngest in the Baby Bjorn on my chest and stroll the older two...
It's a little bit akin to PTSD (or perhaps old age?) in that that part of my life is mere bits and pieces of memories. I remember feeling constantly overwhelmed---like I was running around in circles, yet not accomplishing much of anything except keeping three humans alive. I considered it a good! day! if I managed to brush my own teeth at some point. Seriously, my gold standard of excellence was entirely based on if I was able to conduct some sort of personal hygiene routine that day on myself. Most days it was a fail, but hey, it was good to have goals.
Man, those early days...that turned into years (the Terrible Twos, the Tortuous Threes, the F*cking Fours, potty training, nighttime Olympics)...were SO HARD, but oh so worth it.