I am strong.

Yesterday afternoon.

Target.

Pouring rain.

Rich pulls the van close to the store entrance and I run in to see if I can secure at least one kiddie cart. There aren't any in the store and another couple with two young kids is hunting for one as well.

Plan B.

I run back out into the rain and find a kiddie cart down in the parking lot. With Rich's help, we unlatch Em and Anna from their carseats. Holding a toddler in each arm along with a random puddle pad and blanket from the van to dry off the kiddie cart, I run into the store while pushing the cart. That's almost 50 pounds of toddler. That's almost half of my body weight.

This post isn't necessarily about weight or the strength it takes to raise three children of the same age at once. Let's talk about life in general and how I survive. I have a strong will.

When I met Rich, I was single and independent. Although petite, I was physically strong from many sessions with a personal trainer. I remember telling Rich that my personal goal had been to be able to kick someone's ass if I was being attacked. I felt that I was successful in reaching that goal. Both physically and mentally.

Life was different back then.

Over the past three years, Rich and I have endured the death of our healthy baby, an extremely high risk pregnancy, the loss of both of our jobs, financial stress and caring for newborn triplets.

I am strong.

I haven't been to the gym in years, my abdominal muscles will never be the same without surgery and my running is constantly pushed to the side but I am still strong.

I will give my girls the best life I can. I started fighting for them on December 5, 2006 (the day they were discovered via ultrasound) and I don't intend to stop.

It's ironic when the challenges you face that should maybe knock you down make you even stronger.