Mama Mama Quite Contrary

For the most part, I think I am a good mother.  I feed, clothe, and clean my children.  I tell them I love them.  I give them independence and encouragement.  I read to them and play games with them and drive them places.  I try to utilize positive reinforcement. Except when I don't.  There are times when I lose it.  When I throw a (plastic) plate across the kitchen because it is 8:00 at night and I told you it was bed time and not snack time.  When the whining is so insufferable that all I can do is shout "STOP IT NOW!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs so that I stun you into silence.  When I have to ask you for the tenth time to put the god-damned markers away because I am fed-up with scrubbing ink off the walls and floors.  When I tell you, "You know what?  I don't actually like that drawing." because I'm feeling spiteful that that you called dinner "disgusting." I've done all those things.  Some of them I've done more than on...

I think I need another blizzard to get back into my mommy zen mode.  School vacation combined with my twin tornadoes and my somewhat crippling desire to maintain some semblance of order in this house has left me feeling all cranky and burned out. Jude and Ellie are delightful but they can rip the books off the shelves, empty the kitchen cupboards, and strew every single toy inside these four walls with remarkable speed and determination.  No sooner have I replaced all my books when I hear the crash of CDs out of a cabinet they recently learned to open.  There are only so many high spaces in this house and we've maximized what we have. So, in this frame of mind, I turned to my husband the other night and said, "Is it possible to adore your children beyond measure but hate your life?"  In his very psychiatrist way of being, he asked if the clean-up was getting me down.  Indeed, it is. I recognize that while I *should* work on letting the chaos go, I just can't ...

Sometimes I think being a parent to twins and an older child is akin to doing an extended  stint in an Iranian hard labor camp. The incessant demands, the never-ending cleanup, the desperation and deprivation all make me wonder what sort of cruel universal joke landed me in this predicament. In many ways, that punishingly difficult first year is starting to fade. Vivi has more or less accepted that her little sisters are here to stay and she delights in how much they obviously love her. (She is less enthused with them touching her stuff, however.)  The Turtles are no longer colicky blobs of ceaseless crying but instead are two disparate bundles of personality. They are speeding around and beginning to talk and when asked how much Mommy loves them they'll throw their arms wide and yell, "Big!  Big!"  But, it is still not easy.  I realize with twins that it never gets easy.  It just becomes less hard.  Or, at least, some things do.  While the bab...

Have you ever had one of those days where your kids run you ragged and you just feel like you are thisclose to being hauled away to your friendly neighborhood mental hospital? Of course you have. Have you ever photographed that day? Of course you haven't.  That would be crazy. Ummm...  well, I guess the verdict is in for me. That's right.  100% nuts.

I've returned from the familial abyss that has claimed my blogging time for the last three weeks. I don't think I've gone so long without writing since I started this blog so to the two or three people who read my ramblings regularly, sorry about that. You see, we've just had quite a bit going on around here. Vivi turned four.   The Turtles are on the cusp of walking and destroying everything in their path. My washer died and flooded part of our basement in the process. Our beloved babysitter is graduating college and leaving us which has me distraught. And my husband and I celebrated five years of mostly marital-bliss. No picture for that.  Go figure... And you thought I was just busy soaking beans and baking bread.

I think most parents would agree that each passing stage of their child's life is bittersweet.  While it is exciting to see how our children change and grow, every new development often reflects a loss of something else.  As my Turtles turn one, I feel this in a very profound way.  In what has been the fastest year of my life, I look toward their birthday with a great sadness that is only mildly offset by relief.  This may be a common feeling for mothers of multiples but it doesn't make it any easier. Jude Bug and Ellie Bean have brought me great joy this past year but I would be dishonest if I didn't acknowledge that the joy was deeply mitigated by the fact that I spent the vast majority of our time purely focused on our survival.  There was never any time to focus on tiny fingers wrapped around my own.  There was hardly a moment when I could marvel at the miracle of two full-term, full-sized babies my husband and I created. ...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am saddened to report that the golden period of twin-parenting is now over.  It was a short but glorious time.  A time when my Turtles were mostly sleeping for 11 hour stretches.  A time when they could sit in one place and happily amuse themselves.  A time when I could use the bathroom and know that when I came out they would be exactly where I left them.  A time, I knew even while it was happening, that I would miss when it was over.  And over it is.  BIG TIME. Not only are the Turtles moving but they are two disparate paths of destruction.  Eliya takes to climbing on things and pulling stuff off shelves while Jude has a penchant for scooting around commando-style, tasting power cords, and getting herself stuck under the couch.    One would think that all the movement would make them more tired but I've not found this to be true.  The inability to sit still results in very short nursing session...