Someday I’m Going To Miss This
An honest letter about raising children
Today is the first time in a week that I have been able to sit down and write. My husband and I just had twin girls a month ago, which makes child number three and four for us. The last few weeks have been difficult, to say the least. Having a newborn is difficult in itself, never mind having two. Add a toddler and a preteen to the mix, and you can forget ever feeling rested again.
I spend my days chasing after my two-year-old, and feeding, rocking, changing, and consoling my babies. They say, “sleep when the babies sleep.” That’s all well and good until you discover that the twins rarely sleep at the same time, and as much as we try to get them on the same feeding schedule, one always seems to be hungry much sooner than the other. The reality is, you cannot force an infant to do anything. They are on their own time.
We have been blessed with some very fussy little girls, which makes having a fussy toddler (he’s always been super needy) unbearable at times. Any normal person can only take so much crying before the anxiety kicks in. Having that dreadful feeling rush over you, when you realize that you have no control over what is happening, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes babies just cry, and some babies just cry a lot. You can do all of the things you think your baby could possibly need, and it still won’t be enough to soothe them. I’m constantly holding one twin long enough for them to stop screaming so that I can pick up the other twin and do the same for her. That cycle is on repeat all day long.
As seemingly unbearable as things are right now, they will get better, and these little moments will come less often.
My husband and I do not have time for much else lately besides this game of survival. I haven’t showered yet today. We have a week’s worth of laundry, for a family of six, sitting in front of the washer, and two other baskets of clean laundry that have been waiting to be folded since I don’t know when. We still might not get to it for another few days. There are toys everywhere, and my youngest boy is still in pajamas at 2 pm. I forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner for the third day in a row, so we will probably have sandwiches or cereal. My floors haven’t been swept or mopped, and the grass in our backyard now looks like a small forest.
I fell asleep on the toilet the other day. I wish I could say I am ashamed, but I’m not. It was the longest nap I had gotten all day, and for once I did not have a tiny person accompanying me. My toenail polish is chipped off, and my feet are as rough as the way I feel. I haven’t worn makeup in forever and my roots are so long I’m not sure they are even considered roots anymore. It’s just a really bad dye job at this point. I live in sweatpants and t-shirts. I smell like baby spit up and I’m giving a whole new meaning to the messy bun.
The last month has truly tested my marriage. My husband and I fight a lot, and it’s because we are exhausted and constantly on edge. Every minor thing can turn into a fight depending on our mood. We say things we don’t mean, yell, and scream. Nighttime is the hardest because after being woken up over and over again, everything seems miserable and impossible. Feelings of resentment simply because your partner fell asleep first, didn’t change as many diapers, took too long on a bathroom break, or didn’t make the bottles fast enough. Sleep deprivation can make people very petty, and despite our amazing relationship, we are not immune. All communication skills go out the window when you have had four hours of broken up sleep, every night, for two weeks straight.
We feel guilty sometimes because the babies keep us from being able to do a lot of things with our boys. There have been many broken promises and not right nows.There has been too much t.v. time and not enough outside time. There have been too many pb&j’s and not enough well-balanced meals. We are forgetful and cranky, and our 11-year-old has had to miss out on a lot of events and activities. The boys don’t seem to mind, but it weighs on you as a parent.
I have moments where I sit down and just cry. The house is in shambles, the twins are crying, my husband and I are fighting, the toddler is screaming or asking me the same question for the 50th time in one day, the oldest is giving me attitude again, and it all just feels hopeless. I ask myself, when does it get better? Why don’t we have the content, happy babies that the other mothers brag about? Why can’t I get them to sleep for longer than 15 minutes? When can I get a moment to myself? Why can’t my children just play quietly? When will my son be more responsible? When will I get to sleep at night for longer than two hours at a time?
But then, once and awhile, I have those little moments, like now, where I realize everything is going to be okay. This is all just temporary. I managed to get the three youngest down for a nap at the same time today. It took a lot of work and a lot of trial and error. There was even a short period where I just wanted to give up, but I did it. I stood there watching my precious children sleep, and I felt a sense of calm. As seemingly unbearable as things are right now, they will get better, and these little moments will come more often.
I just need to take a deep breath and cherish these times. Someday, my children won’t need me to cook for them or bathe them. Someday, they won’t need my cuddles when they are sick or tired. They won’t need me to tuck them into bed or read them a story. They won’t want me to play or watch movies. The day will come when they won’t let me rock them to sleep or give them hugs. They won’t share every single thought or secret. I won’t be able to kiss boo boos or wipe away tears. I won’t be able to solve every problem and take away all of their pain. Someday, I won’t have them all under one roof, keeping them safe, protecting them from everything that’s bad in this world. Someday, it won’t be like it is now. Someday, the house will be empty and silent. Someday, I’m going to miss this….
