Tag Archives: mummy guilt

Note to Self: Where Are You?

Yesterday I blogged about owning your Supermum. Today is a post that’s been sitting in drafts for a while, and is a little more raw…

When I found out I was pregnant with the twins I got a lot of advice. Advice from people with singletons, twins, and 3+ children. The overwhelming consensus was to accept the chaos and mess for a year and just concentrate on getting through each day with some semblance of sanity intact.

But here I am, 8 months later, with what feels like more tidying and “things in their place” hangups than I did before kids. Stupid stuff like the kitchen table chairs needing to be pushed in and even; beds made; breakfast stuff put away, feeding the bunny… all of this before I’ve even had a shower or eaten my own breakfast. Those precious 30-90 minutes of morning sleep are the very time I should be prioritising myself over housework.

When did I become less important than tidying? Why does mess come before me?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m home all the time and want a bit of control in the chaos. Is my husband messier? Am I just suddenly noticing what was always there?

I resent the morning cleanup – even more so if I’m cleaning up from the night before. Recycling bottles, table mess from the Threenager’s dinner, dishes that haven’t made it to the dishwasher, random splashes and mess on the bathroom vanity. AN UNFLUSHED TOILET.

fun, friends

Smiles and laughs with amazing friends.

I don’t even feel like I can begin to change things. To prioritise myself. When almost my entire being is devoted to my children’s needs.

Part of me is tempted to return to work early, just to get back some of those simple things that so many people take for granted. Time to eat your lunch when you want to, not at 4pm when you’re ravenous but still have children crying to be picked up as you try in vain to reach for your sandwich on the table which is just…out…of…reach. Thirty quiet, uninterrupted minutes on the train to read a book. I can’t remember the last time I read something other than a supermarket catalogue…. and I love reading. Time spent doing something stimulating that doesn’t involve Lego or playing shops underneath a pile of sofa cushions.

We worked so hard to become parents – the infertility, IVF, miscarriages – and now I just want a break. Something longer than the four hours every 8 weeks I get to have my hair done. I fantasise about an entire day to myself but have no idea what I would do. I still feel utterly bound to the twins despite the fact they take a bottle and the husband says he handle all three for the day if I want to do something.

Why should I feel guilt about wanting some time to myself? It’s a cruel roundabout we sometimes put ourselves on.

So where do I start? Any advice?

 

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How Life Has Changed

I started making myself a coffee  at 9 o’clock this morning. It’s now 1pm and I STILL haven’t had it. Shit, the only thing I have done is turn on the machine to warm up (yep, definitely warm) and grind the beans. #kids right?

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Five and a half months into adulting for three under three and any and all assumptions I made about how life would be have been smashed to pieces. I thought with one alive, relatively well-adjusted child under my belt, that wrangling twins wouldn’t be THAT much more of a stretch. Certainly not double. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the uncanny knack those two cute-but-torturous kids have to throw their “routine” (ha!) out the window by first nap.

How  has life changed with two babies and a toddler?

  • The meeting time on my coffee dates change at least twice because the babies are pulling an unusually long nap … or we get there 30 minutes early because they didn’t nap at all.
  • Some days the girls get so out of whack with their sleep that I need to take notes on when they woke, fed and went back down. Then I lose track and have no idea who is meant to be up, and who asleep. Usually the babies will let me know by screaming hysterically or falling asleep on the floor.
  • Sleep deprivation is part of the baby package. But being so tired, you’re overtired is the pits. Suddenly you get why your baby just won’t go to sleep when they’ve been up all day (or night, or both). Brain – GTFTS.
  • Mummy Guilt ALL THE FREAKING TIME. Are all the kids getting the same amount of attention/hugs/kisses? I know I’m yelling at the 3-year-old more than I should. I shouldn’t need a nanny to help on non-daycare days. Should I be taking the twins to more activities? If only mummy guilt was guilt at the time you’re NOT spending taking care of yourself… like ever.
  • Yes, I have lost all my baby weight. No, I haven’t been doing any exercise. My exercise is feeding two babies with my own body, jiggling said babies to sleep and pushing 15kg of megapram and 12kg of baby around on grassy verges because the local council has something against footpaths in our area.
  • I get way too excited when I find something that will put food on the table with a minimum of fuss or effort. My current faves are:
    • Cutting up veges when we get them and bagging them up. Dinner is as easy as a few handfuls in a salad or frying pan.
    • A 10-minute recipe that actually takes 10 minutes – even with fussy babies. Banana Bread by Aldi Home Cook is my current fave.
    • Serving up leftovers from the meals I’ve prepped for Toby. Which is usually the ENTIRE bloody thing because he refuses to eat anything other than fish fingers and plain spaghetti these days.
    • Something made by the husband while I nap on the sofa
  • I make constant apologies to friends who haven’t received a reply to a voicemail or text a week (or more). By the time I get a spare minute it’s 9 o’clock and the only thing I’m capable of is the zombie walk to bed.
  • Twins aren’t that unusual, but people will still stop and stare or comment (Double Trouble!) when you are near. Maximum patience is also tested when bailed up by old people asking 101 questions including how you birthed them.
  • Watching the toddler interact with the babies sometimes makes me feel like I”m going to implode. My heart is so full and my eyes brim. Every day at daycare pickup he greets them by cupping their faces one at a time and saying, “How are you my beautiful, sweet girl? I missed you today.”
  • Despite regular reminders, sometimes the babies both lose their shit at the same time. I was at a park with my new Mother’s Group and both babies started up.  Everyone literally stopped and stared to see what I would do. After unsuccessfully trying to settle them for a few minutes, someone offered a  hand. And what did stupid me say, “no thanks!” Because you should be able to settle your own babies right? Fucking mummy guilt.
  • I literally lose hours of my day smushing and snuggling the kiddos. Seriously. Hide and seek snuggles or playing trains with the toddler. Big smiles and chats with the girls. I can go a whole day and not go outside once.
  • I spent 30 minutes getting ready for our one big night out of the month – the childcare disco. The irony being I see most of these parents every day (sometimes non-shower days!) in my activewear, no makeup, glistening and probably a bit fragrant from the 10 minute trek to school with the megapram. The only difference today being the teacher is leaping around to “Everything is Awesome” with crazy yellow sunnies on and his hair in pigtails.
  • I’m getting too comfortable with feeling like I have no brain left at all – because I’m so spent by the end of the dinner/bath/bed routine that my brain is as literally as useful as a head full of spaghetti. I can’t work out how to get off the sofa I collapsed onto, let alone come up with ideas for bloody dinner. Toast anyone?
  • Touching. Lots. All day. Two babies hanging off your chest. Toddler lying across your legs or playing with your toes. Pity the poor husband needing his own cuddle time with the touched-out wife.
  • I’ve learned not to feel bad about skipping the healthy salad or wrap for lunch in favour of biscuits. Because everyone knows the 5 minutes you save by pulling biscuits out of a tin, means five more minutes you can spend on the sofa watching Mac and the team on CSI New York.
  • I swear the only washing produced in this house are little boy undies and socks, and onesies. I have no idea if the husband and I are actually changing our clothes regularly or we just forget and rewear the same stuff. Either that or there is a large unwashed pile of t-shirts, boxers and underwear that I’m yet to discover…
  • I had a good belly laugh at the hairdresser when she suggested I “forget the boring mum bun/pony” and try a style that shows off my cut. That would involve clean hair that has been dried with something fancy like a hairdryer, rather than a hasty towel or (gasp!) air dry. Currently my showers fall under one of three categories:
    1. Non-existent: By the time I get a break long enough it’s too late and I’m too bloody tired. Yes, I’m dirty and I don’t care.
    2. Interrupted – one or both babies inexplicably wake hysterical 20 minutes into their nap and I’m forced to wade out dripping wet after a hasty rinse of the shampoo coating my hair, never to return to complete the job.
    3. Blink and you’ll miss it – literally in and out in a minute. If we didn’t do so much washing (or bathe three kids) our water bill would be tiny.

And don’t even get me started on the realities of “sleeping when the baby sleeps” or “never waking a sleeping baby”.

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