Warning: This is a bitter entry from a tired stay-at-home mother of twins. You have been warned.
One baby is in an open, rainbow colored, flying saucer contraption. He's bouncing, drooling and enjoying himself. I give him 2 minutes because he's working on a bowel movement. Nothing can ruin a good time like poopy. The other baby is doing Tummy Time while unleashing a high-pitched wail. I'm supposed to be doing these activities so they develop strength to crawl, and later walk, but do I want them to do that? Two whiny, nutty babies on the move?
As a stay-at-home mom of almost 5-month-old twins, I have no alone time yet I'm constantly lonely. There's wonderful things, like when they're upset I can comfort them (most of the time), the giggles, snuggles and smiles, and the unexpected snorts and nerdy laughs. However, with the good there's bad: fussiness, not being able to comfort them because I don't know what's wrong, the constant need for attention, poopy diapers, the look of betrayal at naptime, when your husband returns from work and you want him to take over so you can have a moment alone yet he wants peace and quiet after a long day at work. How can you compare who works harder?
It feels endless because it is. It's the hardest thing I've ever done. Today I had to do something I haven't had to do for weeks - go in the bathroom, shut the door and sob. I cried for my former life, as if it was fabulous, for my changing and strained relationship with my husband, for my sanity, for my soft and stretched roly-poly body, because I'd pushed myself too hard. I've been up since 5:30 a.m. and up part of the night tending to grumpy, mute old men and I'm tired. I watch as the UPS man drives by, wishing for a pick-me-up: a bouquet of flowers, box of chocolates, anything that shows someone cares but no one stops. I sit in my house, the house I've sat in for months and realize the UPS man will never stop. No one will surprise me with a day to myself or a trip to the beauty parlor, something only for me. As wives and mothers, we're supposed to put on makeup and a smile before our husbands return from work. Why? What about us? Why doesn't anyone think about us? No, I don't sit at home all day, watching daytime TV and eating bon-bons and anyone who thinks that is delusional. I can either cry or get over it because I have one baby crying and the other about to cry. When did I become last on the list and why do I have to stay there?
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