When I first started this about two weeks ago, I said that I wanted to try to post something every day. I am trying to hold back my laughter because who was I kidding? With two babies and a short temper, that’s pretty fucking impossible. I have these activity seats from Summer Infant that the girls LOVE, so when I think I have a solid post, I’ll put them in them in front of me on the table and attempt to type something up. Don’t worry, they’re buckled in. *insert mom bashing here* I get a solid ten minutes of contentment before they’re crying to get out of them and do something else.
Speaking of crying, I cried when I found out I was pregnant because I wasn’t ready to commit to being a mother 24/7 for the rest of my life. I wasn’t ready to carry a baby, give birth to a baby, or nurture a baby. None of that. Yet here I am sitting at my kitchen table, drinking my second cup of lukewarm coffee (with heavy whipping cream because I forgot Erik and I killed the hazelnut creamer before he left for work, damn it), and listening to the gentle crashing of the waves coming from the sound machine in the nursery while Violet and Olivia take their afternoon nap.
My living room floor is covered in random toys and a big alphabet puzzle mat. On my love seat there are two Boppy loungers, against the wall adjacent to me there are two swings and a jumper, on the floor there is a big bin of cloth diapers and accessories, and next to that is a play pen filled with more toys. I have to pick everything up off of the floor to vacuum at least two times a day because we have two dogs. Dishes are constantly being rotated from the cabinets to the sink to the dishwasher, and at any given hour you can hear one of three things: the dogs barking/whining, a baby crying, or the washing machine washing what seems to be like an endless amount of laundry.
I think people have the perception that once you have a baby, your life is screwed. Sure, I can’t up and leave whenever I want to, I can’t drink half a bottle of wine and sleep it off anymore, hell, I can’t even sleep a solid six hours without needing to wake up and pump, but I don’t consider myself to be screwed at all. I love it. I love watching them learn and with each milestone they conquer, I re-evaluate my life. “What really matters here?” Material things? No. Friends? Only a very few. My girls? Absolutely. So before you consider being a mother a shitty situation, let me assure you that in all of my twenty-four years, it is by far the best thing to ever happen to me. I don’t think for two seconds that I am missing out on anything.