On several occasions I’ve mentioned the issues Mr. Housewife and I had trying to have children. There’s no way anyone could say my twinadoes were not planned or wanted. When we had not one but two babies I was in complete shock and so incredibly happy, there would be two people in this world that called me Mom. But now that I’ve said the obligatory precursor to any complaints about motherhood I’m going to get real honest. For me, motherhood is freaking tough and at times sucks. Yup, I said it. There are times in the day when all I want to do is run and lock myself in a room and turn up the television so I can’t hear their yelling and noise. I don’t live for taking my kids to the park or endless jump places. My head still bobs and weaves to avoid sticky gross hands coming at my face. And that patience everyone said I would get when I had them, uh, still waiting for that to show up.
There are some women I know that just ooze maternal goop out of every pore of their body, I am envious. I want that, really I do. They make being a mom look so effortless. Oh I know they have their moments, I’m not completely off my rocker, but it just seems like their moments are less frequent than mine. It’s like they were seriously born to be mothers, (and yes, I know technically that is what we are born to become) to be these wondrous nurturers of the world. How in the hell did I miss that gene?
I’ve always known that I wasn’t the kind of woman that had this strong maternal instinct. When people would have babies or bring them around, while everyone else was squealing in delight over this tiny person I was standing in the peripheral hoping they wouldn’t ask me to hold it. No, I didn’t like holding babies, still don’t. Now don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my babies, I was attached to those two little lovey lovies like Superglue. I was very reluctant to hand them over to people, and when I did they were a very selective few. But when those few were around I was more than happy to hand them off and get a break.
Nor was I the type that thought every baby was adorable, not even close. I’ve never told a mom that her child was hideous (I do have some tact), but I’ve thought it. Those maternal women see adorable faces in every baby they see, and look at them with such glazed eyes. Uuuugghhh….
I really have to work at being a mom. And some days I have to remind myself that I can survive this and actually enjoy it. Having two kids at once is tough, sometimes I wish I could also know what it’s like to have just one baby that needed my time. To be able to focus on just one little person, and take a little extra time and savor the mundane. With my two, it has always been a race. Race to get them both fed so one doesn’t complain that the other has something they don’t. A race to get them both dressed. The unending fights because they can’t agree on anything and then don’t want to wait their turn so you race to satiate them both.
My wish and hope is that in the end my kids look back and see that I tried to do my best, even though compared to those maternal monsters I looked as though I was a fish out of water. Daily I struggle to make sure the twinadoes know I love and care for them. Though I know there are days when they think I’m the mean mom that is here to squash their fun with rules and structure. I may not be the mom that is always rolling all over the floor with her kids, spends hours and hours making sheet forts or playing never ending Shoots and Ladders but I am the mom that will make you wish you had jumped in front of a bus rather than face my wrath if you hurt my kids. The bus would be a much quicker end than what I would give you.
So to all you maternal goddesses that look at those of us that are not as maternally blessed with those judging eyes, knock it off and cut us some slack. Go spend that time shooting out another kid you’ll no doubt have great ease in mothering or bake a casserole or something. Me? I’m going to go force myself to sit and watch Horton for the 307th time because the twinadoes love it.