First off, let me take a second to say thank you to everyone who has left comments and/or told me how much they enjoy reading what I'm writing- I really, really appreciate your kind words and encouragement. Thanks for taking a moment to let me know how you feel. It means a lot to me. :)
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There are so many things about pregnancy and parenting that they don't tell you. My gripe today is how much quality bathroom time I still log in post-partum. I kind of thought after the kids were born my constant trips to the bathroom would be over. Turns out I was wrong- I'm still high-tailing it to the head at an alarming rate of frequency, but for different reasons now. Now I go to give myself a time-out.
Don't get me wrong- I knew life would get much harder after the twins were born. But since the Princess was such as easy baby, I don't think I had a clue about just how difficult it could be, or how frustrated or lost I could feel.
Thing One and Thing Two are pretty fussy babies, which is common with preemies (although the Princess was also a preemie, and she was not like this, nowhere close). They have trouble just sitting, being content. They have difficulty falling asleep. They have difficulty staying asleep. No matter what formula we try, they end up with painful gas bubbles that make them scream out in pain. They are happiest just being held all the time, or having their backs patted, but with two of them, plus the Princess, that can be a tall order most of the time.
And sometimes, no matter what we do, they still cry. And cry. And cry.
And sometimes, so does Mommy.
But other times I just get so frustrated- after literally hours of crying where nothing works to comfort the babies, and the Princess inevitably spills something/breaks something/doesn't make it to the potty... or just something else just typical of an almost-three-year-old- and I find myself close to losing it. I escape to the bathroom (after making sure the kids are all safe, of course- I'm angry, not an idiot). I count to ten, twenty, a hundred. I take deep breaths. I look at the time and count the hours until my husband will be home. I think about what I can do with the kids to break the crankiness cycle. Can we go outside? Is there something special we can do? A snack the Princess can have or a game she can play? Is there anything that I can try (or try again) with the twins to calm them or get them to sleep? Should I call my cousin (my go-to source of instant sanity) or the kids' pediatrician? And I think about the days I had my kids, and being pregnant with them. I think of my daughter and stepson, how quickly they've grown up already, and how as difficult as this time is with the little ones, I really don't want to wish it away any faster than it's going to fly by anyway.
While I'm ungritting my teeth and pulling myself back from the edge, the kids are (gasp!) alone. If they cry, they cry. But barring a meteor hitting the earth, they're safe, and I'm just in the next room. And I don't want to end up being the mom in the orange jumpsuit on the "Don't Shake Jake" commercials. So taking a time-out when I need one is okay in my book. But from what I've heard from comments from other parents (not necessarily directed at me, but in general), not everyone thinks this way, which is unfortunate. People seem to see it as a sign of weakness- as if as soon as you have a baby, you automatically become Super Woman, and no longer succumb to normal human behavior. I think it's just that kind of thinking that makes women (and men) feel badly and less likely to seek help for a problem she/he might have because she/he doesn't want to be perceived as "weak" or a "bad" parent. In reality, it's just the opposite. Seeking help is what makes you a better parent, and happier person.
I almost decided not to post about this here. I liked the idea of keeping up the facade of being the perfect mom (or at least a reasonable facsimilie). But I hope if I share how I feel and what I'm going through, other moms (or dads or grandparents) will feel better and be more honest with themselves about not being perfect and sometimes feeling overwhelmed themselves. You know, I hate that I have this temper, but I've had it all my life, and it was unreasonable to think that it would disappear when I had kids and wouldn't affect the way I parent. Luckily, I was self-aware enough to take steps to deal with it before it could hurt my kids.
Unfortunately, I couldn't stop genetics. My daughter, the Princess, seems to have inherited my temper. It could just be her age, but I see so much of myself in her. She gets so angry at the smallest frustration or bump in the road. In a way I feel lucky- I know how it feels to get so mad and not be able to focus on anything else, and I hope that I can help her deal with it as she gets older and her frustrations become bigger than not wanting to take a nap or not being allowed a second popsicle.
So, I hope all of you reading understand where I'm at on all of this, and I hope that by reading about my less-than-perfect mothering you can gain a greater sense of understanding of your own parenting, or maybe someone else's. And hopefully we can all work to keep from making snap judgements of others based on what we might perceive to be weaknesses.
In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be the bathroom... counting to a hundred.
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