When the womb is away the mice will play. This is so true in my house. To say that my children have become clingy is an understatement. The girls are building a contraption featuring stirrups and a speculum that will enable their re-entry. The only time that they truly enjoy themselves is when they forget about me. More and more often, I find myself hiding behind the couch. Hard to believe, but they are NOTHING like this with their father. Apparently he doesn't have what it takes to make them scream and pull down his pants. The three of them have a genuinely good time together. The girls are able to relax and forget about the dark wetness of their past when I leave the house and Dad takes over.
And they laugh like this:
No surprise that I have started liking them, right? Last year was full of when will this get easier? and will i ever enjoy this? and oh my god i am going to be that mom that left her family to dig potatoes in Idaho. Without even noticing, it happened. It got easier. It became fun. It was rewarding and amazing and my children became the greatest thing that I could ever imagine happening to me and I fell selflessly in love without any of the fear and misery that had prevailed in the past.
Last night I was working a "Moms of Multiples" consignment sale with about a hundred other mothers of twins and triplets (and quads, OH MY!). A mother approached with the question How old are your kids? Beaming Mommy, that's me! We exchanged stats to find that we had the same breed of children: thirteen month/identical/twin/girls (I didn't tell her that mine were smarter) and I, Beaming Mommy, screamed AREN'T THEY SO MUCH FUN??!! The woman just stared at me, adding They're really hard, too. And my head exploded all over her solemn face. I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT THEY WERE FUN SOMEONE PUT A BULLET IN MY HEAD I AM THAT HAPPY MOTHER THAT I HATE. That was my response. Then I picked the pieces of brain matter off of the horrendously matching outfits and cried the entire way home. Where I dragged the children out of the cribs, pulled out the speculum and shoved them back into my vagina.
8 comments:
LOL I try to stay neutral or positive when talking to someone I just met about my kids. Otherwise, you're the crazy lady who is complaining to strangers about how hard parenting is. You can't win.
Did you see your award on my blog last Saturday? I suck at telling people about awards.
You are not the mom you hate, silly lady. Just because you are having so much fun doesn't mean it isn't still hard sometimes. She should know that. I complain about how hard it is, and I have ONE kid. I'm a sucky, wimpy, wussy mom.
It's okay to lie, too. We all do it. <3
oooh. must clarify and edit. i am the mother that i hate bc gingerfarts are coming from my ass. i was the bubbling mommy. the other mom was the debbie downer-- which is supposed to be MY JOB!
so yeah, i don't mind complaining-- l.o.v.e.s. me some complaining.
and that's just it. i don't lie. i can't. it's genetically impossible.
whew, for a second there you people thought i was afraid to talk shit!
Oh my gosh are they so very cute... I think Pete and I were laughing as hard as they were. now we need the video of Brandon. :)
Oh my lord this is hilarious.
that laughter? that might just be the best sound ever. they are so freakin' cute.
anyway, when i return after my hubs has been watching the kiddies, they all start screaming and crying and pulling down my pants too. what is it about mamas?
I felt that way about my kiddo for the first year-ish...a bit scared, baffled by motherhood...I didn't get the "mommy bug" until later, but when I did, I got it bad! But I still have those "I hate my life" days. Just not nearly as often!
Rhys and Quin want to crawl back in too.
I pretty much lied from the get go...How are things going? Swimmingly! I never needed more than 30 minutes of sleep a night - gosh - I could have achieved so much pre-babies had I only known that! How's the nursing? Fantastic? I love having my nipples torn to shreds by two voracious one year olds who insist on shoving their sweaty little fingers in my every facial orifice the entire time they're sucking the life-blood out of my breasts. LIFE IS PERFECT!
But now things ARE getting easier. And I forget about swearing at god in my head and instead get lost in fun.
And I don't know what to tell people. It was SO hard - and I feel like I still need sympathy and credit and donuts. And beer.
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