Some days I feel like I am this close to falling apart. I’m getting the twins dressed for bed, and there are diapers all over the floor of their room from earlier when they unpacked the entire cupboard where I keep diapers and then broke into a fresh pack and scattered those too. There are toys all over the floor that I keep stepping on and nearly tripping over, because right now the twins think the best fun is taking things OUT of things–but then they don’t want to play with those things, they want to find a fresh bin to take things out of.
I try to get Edward out of his clothes, and there’s food all over the front of his shirt because he kept flinging his bib off during dinner and I couldn’t work up the caring it would require to fetch it yet again, and when I try to remove his shirt the food gets dragged across his hair, which I finally washed this morning when it was so crusty I was starting to wonder if it would start snapping off like little twigs–and now there’s food in it again.
I get his clothes off, and I take his diaper off, and immediately he’s grabbing at himself so ferociously I’m worried he’s going to tear it OFF. He’s itchy, and I guess I should remember to take him in to the doctor about that. I try to keep him from doing permanent damage to my future grandchildren, but I only have one hand to restrain him: I need to get a diaper off the floor, using my foot to pull one closer and then grabbing it with my “spare” hand. I get his sleeper on, and he’s trying to twist over on the table. His big brother Robert has left a bunch of blocks up there in a special pattern, and I finally fling them across the room in frustration because Edward keeps grabbing them. There’s also a baggie on the table (suffocation hazard!) and a pencil (stabbing hazard!), and a piece of paper (paper cut hazard! soggy choking hazard!) that I need to deal with, but geez, why do Robert and William keep leaving these things in here? Do I have to tell them they can’t even come in here anymore?
Meanwhile, Elizabeth is crying and whining in her high chair, this whole time.
I put Edward in his crib, and I get Elizabeth. She’s happy while I’m taking her clothes off, but as soon as I put a fresh diaper on her she gets suspicious. When she sees the sleeper, she knows the score and rips out a bunch of grating screams. I get her into it anyway, but I’m reaching my limit. Edward, meanwhile, is tossing all his blankies out of his crib.
I put Elizabeth in her crib, stepping on two toys on my way over and hearing one crack in a way I’m going to have to deal with tomorrow. She’s still screaming. I accidentally put her in her crib lying down, which she hates; when I correct this by sitting her upright, she arches and cries and won’t accept her blankie. I give Edward’s blankies back to him, and I get the hell out of that room, using the very last scraps of my life force to say “good night, babies” in a pleasant tone over the angry cries. I switch off the light, and go out into the rest of the house, where there are lightbulbs burned out, toys on the floor, papers to file, months of photos to go through.
Now Elizabeth is working herself into a real fit. Edward is starting to cry tiredly; she is keeping him from falling asleep. Downstairs, Robert and William are supposed to be in bed, but I can hear them starting to fight. Some days I am barely holding it together.
I can feel your pain about the twins, we had three children when our two boys came along, they are 18 now but I swear I still have not caught up on sleep yet, My wife displayed so much patience during this time and to tell you the truth I am not sure how we survived the whole thing, but trust me it gets a whole lot better as they grow, it will be worth all the lost sleep and worry, hang in there, I read through your blog and I give you a lot of credit blogging during this time, it is a lot of work, good for you and keep it up as I will keep reading, thanks for the chance to read your thoughts
I’m so glad to hear things improve with time! We’ve been so happy to have twins, but sometimes things seem so, so busy!
IGNORE THE HOUSEWORK. the diapers along the floor, the blocks won’t kill anyone.
i wasted some of the cutest moments of my babies life worrying about housework.
get in there, get on the floor and play and eventually in a few hours you will have energy to pick up the mess.
just enjoy seeing them messy, keep talking cute and funny and then give them a bath, if and how you can – heck alternate days if you have to, and then enjoy their nice clean baby smell. ah, my kids are only four and six, and i tell you it is so much nicer when they’re babies and don’t talk back.
honestly, just let it go, let it loose. you have nobody to prove anything to when it comes to housework. if you can live with it, the world can live with it. (of course that doesn’t mean having a pig sty, but a messy home now and then is normal and expected in your family. you’re only one person. my sister always rags at me for the house and i’m a v. clean oriented person, i just lack energy sometimes.) she doesn’t have kids.
How do you feel reading this post now? Is it all so much easier? Have you blocked it out? Is it just as trying but in a different way?
I still have days like this, but a trip to Target (or a vodka-orange) usually takes care of it.
Even when I read posts like this when I can SEE how hard it is, I still wonder how you do it.
OY. VEY. Better you than me, babydoll.
I feel this way somedays and I only have two!
I think that some of it comes from being a teacher. You are at school with your 22 darlings all day long and they get the very best part of you. When you come home to your own children they get the leftovers.
They’ve said it all- time, growth, perseverance… And still in that moment? That hair pulling, screaming into your fist moment? You must be thinking screw that, this is my life and my personality and no one else’s experience is or has been like this.
I get it. And I hope in the writing about it, in the reaching out and in the open and honest manner you have that someone somewhere will read your blog and say. Yep. me too. Isn’t that why we do this?
*raises one vodka-orange to you*
I’m having fun going back and reading your older posts! It’s funny to think of Edward and Elizabeth as babies!
Heather- Oh, man, this brings me back. Diapers! Bibs! Cribs! Sleepers!