There I am, nestled in bed, surrounded by my partner, two energetic kids, and our two playful dogs. I can barely find a corner of the comforter, and it’s poking me uncomfortably in the face. I twist my body, still wrapped in my sheets, to check the time: 6:18 AM. It’s time to rise.
But as I glance over at my sleeping twins sprawled out between us, I can’t help but pause. They look so peaceful. When did they grow into these long-legged little beings? Their faces, so familiar yet so grown up, remind me of the tiny bundles they once were, all wrapped in swaddles. My heart swells with love.
Then, just like that, they wake up, and the day’s challenges begin.
The daily struggle starts. Almost every morning, there’s some disagreement about getting dressed. Today, one of the twins insists on tossing her pajamas into the laundry, while I want to save them for another night. Tears flow. I’m forced to put her in time-out, and in her nakedness, I feel like a horrible parent.
Then there’s the 2-year-old, who gets pushed by the twins as she enters their room, causing her to wail. I juggle comforting her while trying to discipline the older ones. They refuse to apologize, and one of them dashes away, slipping on the hardwood and hitting her head. Now, there are three crying kids. It’s only been 20 minutes since I woke up, and I feel like I’m failing as a mom.
After breakfast, the whining begins. They want to watch TV, but it’s a beautiful day outside, and I’m determined to get them outdoors. While cleaning the kitchen, I say “no” to TV. One child declares, “I’ll just sit on the couch and wait for Daniel Tiger FOREVER!”
I threaten time-out and the end of TV privileges, but now the twins are bickering about their favorite Frozen characters. When the 2-year-old chimes in with her love for Sven, they shout, “No, you DON’T!” and she cries. The unkindness and disrespect are overwhelming. I feel like a terrible mother.
Every task feels like a battle: going outside, coming back in, lunchtime, naptime, and especially dinnertime. Why must everything be so contentious? I dread conflict, a feeling I used to avoid before becoming a parent. But now I have to stand firm. I refuse to be the mom who can’t say “no,” yet the constant clashes are draining me.
The bedtime struggle is, without a doubt, the hardest. They resist going upstairs, argue over who goes to the bathroom first, demand different pajamas, and want to run around with toothbrushes while I read the longest book in our collection. Because, you know, they’re twins.
Yet, at 10 PM, when they should be asleep but are still wide awake, they ask to snuggle in our bed. I can’t resist. It may not be the most comfortable arrangement, but I cherish these moments. They won’t stay little forever, and one day they won’t want to cuddle anymore.
The challenges are exhausting, but when my daughter shares half of my pillow and tells me she loves me, all the struggles fade away. I know the battles will resume tomorrow, and just thinking about it makes my body ache. For now, though, the house is peaceful. The girls are quiet, smelling of sweet strawberry shampoo, and my heart is full.
I feel like a good mother. At least until they wake up.
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Summary:
Parenthood is filled with daily struggles, from getting kids dressed to navigating bedtime battles. Amidst the chaos and conflict, moments of love and connection remind us of the joys of parenting, despite the challenges.