This morning I feel like hiding from the children. I ducked into the computer room to get away from all the noise and all the questions. There are days where it’s just too much stimulation, you know? It’s like a barrage of teeny pellets. The babies are saying “Dah DAH!!?,” and Robert is saying, “Mommy, can I bring my Rubik’s cube to school? Why does WILLIAM get to cut up paper?,” and William is saying, “Mommy, I ate all my breakfast! Can I have a dessert?”
(And here they are already, joining me. Robert is flopped in a chair, playing Tetris on a Gameboy and keeping up a running monologue about Tetris. William is wondering, repeatedly, when it will be time for lunch. It’s 7:55 a.m.)
I’m regretting subtitling this blog “Blogging With Twins.” I’d thought I would be writing mostly about twins and twin care, a sort of reference blog. But it turns out I have to almost force myself to write on that topic; it seems boring to me. Also, there are so many twin-themed blogs already, perhaps we don’t need more. I’m thinking of changing the subtitle to reflect the largeness of our family—but as large families go, we’re small. We’re only large for a small family, if you follow me.
My plan was to have a blog that was good-natured and funny, like Sundry’s. Instead, I find I mostly feel like whining and complaining and taking strong stands on minor, unimportant issues, and bitching about how queasy I feel. I have always wanted to be one of those even-keel, non-complaining, go with the flow people, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to work out. Instead, I’m going to be one of those people always getting into a huge cheese fit over nothing.
Isn’t that discouraging, when you realize you aren’t going to be a way you were hoping you’d be? I’ve had that disillusionment set in several times with parenting. When my first baby was still an infant, I bought a set of alphabet cookie cutters. We’ve never even taken them out of the package, and it’s been almost 8 years. It turns out I don’t like “helpers” when I’m cooking.
At least I didn’t have any delusions about my patience levels (= low), or about how much I like playing children’s games (= not at all).
