The early years with twins were not easy, I shudder when I think of octo-mom! I sort of remember those sleepless nights of constant feedings. I say "sort of" because I spent the entire first year walking around in a trance from lack of sleep. I do remember once in the middle of the night I poured Coke into a bottle I was preparing, thankfully I caught myself before bringing it upstairs! I remember taking the Diaper Genie every one raved about and tossing the entire thing in a fit of rage into the dumpster because, while it might be ideal for a single baby, it was a nightmare stuffing it with twice the amount of diapers. Going to the grocery store was a challenge. I would see all the singlton moms with their little portable car seats perched on the grocery cart zooming through the aisles. Not me. There was no room for two car seats, I would push the double stroller in front of me and drag the cart behind me only to be stopped every few feet by some well meaning older woman exclaiming, "Boy, you've got your hands full!" Every so often I would meet up with another mom with young twins. I recognized the exhaustion and feel real pity for them. Sometimes they would ask me if it gets easier. I couldn't lie, I told them that they will have more sleep in their future, but I never say it gets easier. I just say it changes, it gets "different".
Parenting never gets easier, whether you have one, two or eight ::shudder:: babies at once. Yesterday as we were leaving for the Renaissance fair I looked at what Rachel was wearing. Her shorts looked a little too tight, I told her to change as she must have outgrown them. "But Mom, this is how teenagers where their shorts, and I am a preteen!" Help.
Gone are the days where Mommy was queen. Where everything I told them was golden and right. I get challenged, sassed, and told how wrong I am despite the fact they constantly acknowledge my wizened age. I am also loosing my youngest to this behavior, because, "monkey-see-monkey-do". That same inner strength I had to summon years ago to deal with late nights and double dirty diapers, I must summon again to maintain self control and not end up on the 6 O'clock news.
Yesterday while I was in the shower Hannah came in demanding breakfast. As it was a long weekend and we had plans to go out for the day, I told her that I was going to treat them to donuts after I got out of the shower. She did not like this option. "You're just lazy!", she yelled at me.
What did my daughter just say to me? It took ALL of the inner strength previously mentioned not to jump through the shower curtain at her! I will not go into a list of my duties as mom, teacher, and wife; but being lazy is definitely not on them. On top of the anger I was feeling at this audacious comment, I was hurt. I know some parents and non-parents would suggest a good slap to the face or sufficient beating to the bottom for this behavior, but I would never slap her across the face ( though the temptation was there!). I am not above a spanking, but I strongly believe in never spanking while angry and I did not think in this case it would be as effective as the punishment her father and I had in mind.
She thinks I am lazy? Well, now her duties around the house have tripled for the week as I am too lazy to work. She is among other things, responsible for all the dishes and making her bed. I might throw in a few loads of laundry as well. Because I am so lazy, she must pick up the slack. Breakfast will no longer be available from this lazy wench ( I was at the Renaissance Faire yesterday). To give her credit, she was very remorseful when she saw how upset I was over her comment. She apologized and felt bad, but she still must learn not to say things out of selfishness and anger.
What a nice day out today, I think I will be lazy and go make a mess in the kitchen before retiring to a good book. Happy President's Day!