People sometimes ask what our days look like. Here is the honest answer – a typical day with three kids from the first night feed to the last bedtime song, and everything in between with our 4-year-old daughter, 2-year-old son with Down syndrome and 2-month-old baby son.
How we sleep
My partner sleeps in the living room. I sleep in the bedroom with Mr on one side of me and B in a bedside cot on the other – one rail removed so it sits flush against our bed. Ms is above Mr on the top bunk. It works, mostly because B is an easy sleeper. He wakes two to four times a night to nurse, which I do half-asleep without really coming fully awake. When he starts making louder noises around five or six in the morning, I bring him to the living room and my partner and I swap – he goes back to sleep in the bedroom while I handle B and the morning starts properly.
Mr wakes first
Mr is up around seven. My partner brings him to the living room so Ms can keep sleeping and so the bedroom does not become a scene of small-boy chaos – things pulled off shelves, objects thrown, general two-year-old enthusiasm applied to every surface. Potty first. Mr is two years and six months and potty training is going well – he does not yet signal when he needs to go, but we put him on five or six times a day and almost every day something happens. Then a drink of water, a change into day clothes, washing his face and hands and teeth, and then he plays while I figure out where B is in his cycle and whether I can start breakfast.
There is a safety gate between the living room and kitchen, which means when my partner has already left for work I can put B in his bouncer in the kitchen while I cook. I cannot leave Mr and B alone together – Mr loves B genuinely and deeply, but his affection is enthusiastic in the way that two-year-old affection often is. He hugs, holds, kisses. I let him do all of that when I am right there. Unsupervised is a different matter.
Breakfast, and then Ms
Between eight and half past I make breakfast – toast, porridge, or eggs depending on the day and what I have energy for. Mr eats. I wash up behind him. Potty again. Nurse B.
Ms wakes around nine, sometimes earlier. She goes straight to the bathroom on her own – toilet, face, hands, teeth, all of it without being asked, which is one of the things about her that makes the mornings genuinely easier. Then she changes her clothes and comes to find me for her hair and her breakfast. I would love for us all to eat together, but Mr cannot wait until half nine for his porridge, so we eat in shifts – I sit with whoever is eating and try to be present for both.
Outside by ten
At ten we go out. Everyone dressed, B in the pram, Mr on his balance bike, Ms on her bicycle. On a typical day with three kids this outing is the thing that makes everything else possible – the fresh air, the movement, the change of scene. We walk different routes depending on the day: around the village, down to the harbour to look at the sea, along the road past the fields where cows and sheep are grazing. Ms rides ahead. I push Mr’s bike and pull B’s pram. We are usually back inside before eleven.
If the neighbour’s children are around, Mr goes in to play and Ms stays outside with them, which gives me a stretch of time to get lunch ready without anyone needing me urgently. B comes to the kitchen in his bouncer. When there is something left over from the night before, lunch is quick. When there is not, I cook.
Lunch, nap, quiet time
Before twelve they come in for lunch. Half past twelve is Mr’s nap. He lies down next to me with B nursing on the other side, and I sing until he is asleep. Then I take B to the living room. If Ms is outside we have quiet time together, just the two of us – B and I. If Ms is in, the three of us find something gentle to do.
Mr wakes between two and three. Potty, water, and then it depends on the day. If my partner has a shorter shift he comes home and takes Mr outside or to his parents in the neighbouring village – the grandparents are always glad to see him. Sometimes Ms goes too. B stays with me. On those afternoons I sometimes manage a longer walk alone with B, which is the closest thing to proper exercise I get right now and which I always come back from feeling noticeably better.
The bits that are genuinely hard
I want to be honest about the parts of a typical day with three kids that are actually difficult, because the smooth version is not the whole picture.
Mr puts things in his mouth constantly. Unknown plants, wood pulp from tree stumps, gravel from the ground. When we are outside and I cannot watch him closely enough – because B needs something, or because I am talking to a neighbour – we have to come back in. There is no easy solution to this yet.
The wardrobe situation is genuinely comic in its inconvenience. Mr pulls everything he can reach, so all the cupboards and doors are locked. Putting laundry away means unlocking, placing one item, locking again, unlocking for the next. With three children generating the volume of laundry that three children generate, this takes a while.
And the evenings before sleep are long. Mr takes time to settle – if you leave before he is fully asleep, he is on the floor within seconds. Ms comes downstairs multiple times after lights out. B is still doing short spontaneous naps through the day rather than a predictable two-nap rhythm. We aim for nine o’clock bedtime. We do not always get there cleanly.
The bits that are genuinely good
Evenings together are often genuinely lovely. Sometimes we are all outside with the neighbours. Sometimes we stay in, put music on, and have a little dance session in the living room. I can still hold B on one hip and dance with the other arm free. He seems to like it. Mr tottles around with total concentration. Ms throws herself into it completely. My partner dances actively with toddlers while I breastfeed.
The rhythm of the day – potty, outside, lunch, nap, outside again, dinner, dance, sleep – gives everyone something to hold onto. Children, especially children with Down syndrome, do well with predictability. So, honestly, do I.
One thing I am looking forward to: some morning soon we will all pile into the car, drop my partner at work, and I will take the three children to a proper beach. The sea is close but there is no swimming spot within walking distance. When we get there, I am going in.
This is our summer. A typical day with three kids, lived slowly and loudly in a small village, full of small moments that I want to remember.
You are not alone.
If this story resonated with you and you’d like to go deeper, you can explore my e-book Our Journey – A Different Path. It offers honest reflections and lived experience beyond this post.
If you’re looking for practical support, I’ve created Routine Templates to help parents and children navigate daily life with more clarity, structure, and understanding.
You can also read my previous posts or follow along on Instagram @parentguidancehub, where I share everyday reflections on parenting, family life, and finding balance.
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