In a word? No.
I have entered a phase of motherhood that can only be described as a complete breakdown in reason, order and sanity. I really do feel like I live with three asylum escapees sometimes. And I saw it coming the minute I found out that I was pregnant with twins. It was right about that time that my oldest son turned one. He became a toddler, and apparently a crazy person.
And that’s exactly what I said to Chris: “it’s like living with a crazy person.” The tantrums over nothing – the mood swings – the manic activity. It was exhausting. And then we found out I was pregnant again. And then we found out that I was having twins. And then I realized that within just a couple of years, there would be three crazy people in my house. Actually five since Chris and I would undoubtedly be insane by then.
But of course, like all mothers, I adapted fairly quickly and found much of this unhinged behavior adorable. I readily admit that I do tend to find bad behavior amusing, and I often have a hard time addressing it appropriately (i.e. not laughing and saying “do it again! do it again!”). This would explain a lot about my children.
I don’t want to give the impression that I have bad kids. Absolutely not. They are very sweet and considerate demon spawn. And not one of them has a mean bone in their little bodies. Their daycare provider is raising them right! Just kidding about that last part of course (sort of). But my point is that they are just being their ages (three and two). And that involves a level of chaos that not even a team of Navy SEALs could suppress. And this translates into losing time that was once spent on personal priorities like reading, exercising, showering, picking socks up off the floor…
If you have toddlers, I suspect that I am describing your current home life. If you had toddlers a long time ago, you are laughing at me and saying, “just wait until they are teenagers.” If you don’t have children, you are thinking that you may just want to get a dog instead. Either way, I’m too busy fishing poop out of the bathtub to be affected by your validation, condescension or horror.
The way I see it is like this. You have a baby. You bring that baby home. And after a few weeks or months of feeling like you have entered a never-ending twister in the tornado of new parent hell, you miraculously wake up in Munchkinland. You marvel at how the world suddenly became technicolor and can’t wait to see what lies ahead as you continue down this sparkling yellow brick road. Little did you know that it would be flying monkeys.
Once you get used to being a parent to a baby and really start to enjoy it, you see your baby like this:
Then your baby becomes a toddler – and they become this:
And I don’t mean that they become hideously ugly. Quite the opposite. They become even more mogwai-like in their cuteness. It’s just that they can’t help but wreak havoc in your life as a matter of course. It’s programmed into a toddler’s DNA to be a little gremlin in the house. And when you have multiple toddlers, you have multiple gremlins (thank god throwing them into a bathtub doesn’t create more).
How many times have I left a neat and orderly room for five minutes, only to return to what looks like a war zone? Um – pretty much every time I leave the room. Chris thinks we should just give up and never put things away. But guess what? I’ve tried that, and they manage to make an even bigger mess out of the original one. How does one manage to take a room that is completely ripped apart and make it worse? I have no answer for this, you’ll have to ask a toddler.
A perfect example of a simple daily activity that they manage to turn into a circus is going somewhere in the car. The car was once a zen-like refuge for me. I would quietly sip a coffee from Starbucks and listen to music or a recorded book. Traffic never bothered me because I could just tune it out and enjoy a little time to myself. No work e-mails to answer, no laundry to be done. Just a little peace and quiet. This no longer exists. Now I have an entourage.
Every weekday, I commute with my children. I drop them off at daycare on my way to work. Just getting them to ENTER the car is the first challenge. Inevitably, I find myself chasing them in circles. Then once I finally get them in the car, I have to drag them out of the driver’s seat, the “way back” (we have an SUV) and the space under the seats. I have to rip unidentifiable scraps of old food (at least I hope it’s food) out of their hands before they manage to reach their mouths. I have to force rigid abs of steel back into car seats so that I can buckle harnesses. I have to yell, cajole, tickle and spank them into submission (consistency is my middle name). Then I spend the majority of the drive time answering all 500 of my daughter’s questions, climbing into the back seat to re-buckle my oldest son’s seat belt at stoplights and moving the passenger seat forward so that my youngest son can’t kick the pause button on the DVD player. Once we arrive at our destination I have to replace socks and shoes that have been flung off and retrieve sippy cups from wherever they have been launched. I arrived at work completely exhausted.
Another previously sacred time was my daily shower. I am perpetually cold and like nothing better than to lose that chill in a nice hot shower. It doesn’t even have to be a long one – just five minutes of total warmth. But now the bathroom door is open, and two or three sets of eyes observe me rush through my morning ablutions. A ritual that now involves keeping one foot ready to nudge someone out if they decide to climb in with me (an activity often followed by the task of re-dressing them in dry clothing). The one positive thing about my shower experience is that it’s possibly the only time that I do something without at least one child attached to my body. It is no longer “daily.”
Evenings used to offer some nice, relaxing me-time. I’d have a little dinner, do some reading, maybe even watch some prime time television. Now I’m lucky if I can change out of my work clothes before it’s time to go to turn in for the night. If I do run upstairs to change, I have to answer to a chorus of “Mommy! Where are you?” or keep an eye on them as they open every drawer in the room while I’m pulling on my sweat pants. If they don’t follow me upstairs and I don’t hear any concern for my whereabouts, then I know I’m in trouble. I’ve already related the incident of the black and orange Halloween clings stuck to the playroom ceiling. But there are unlimited others that involve “working together” to create some kind of mess or mayhem. Recently I came downstairs to see my three year old son hand a full, OPEN gallon milk jug to my two year old daughter. Eleanor, who is lucky if she weighs 25 lbs soaking wet, immediately began to fall backward, and I only just made it there in time to grab her before she was taken down by the jug of milk.
So no – none of that is sacred anymore. Not my personal time. Not my personal possessions. Not my personal space. But in spite of all of that, I can’t really complain. I have something far more sacred now: their time – this time. Someday I will have time to read and go to the movies and have leisurely dinners out with Chris. Someday I will go on vacations and actually sleep on the plane. Someday I’ll be able to just get in the car and go without any concerns about forgotten lunch bags or lost blankies. Someday I’ll have alone time again.
But I’ll never again have two little bodies cuddled in my lap as I smell their freshly washed hair and read them Go Dogs Go. I’ll never again have a little boy say, “I wuv you mommy,” as I tuck him in at night. I’ll never again watch three little people dance with wild abandon around the house pretending to be the chimney sweeps in Mary Poppins. So if I have to put up with some mess and chaos and drastically lowered expectations for personal time and appearance? I’ll take it. Because this fleeting moment in my life as a mother is worth it. This time is more precious and sacred than any other I could imagine.
i loved this kate and it’s so true – they are young for such a short time
and honestly i would love to freeze time – i think this age (2) is great.
This is soooooooooo true!! Love it..I have a teen, preteen and two toddlers…So I am getting the best and worst of both worlds…I love my shower to..and cannot stand when the door is opened and little ones running in..darn it there went my warm bathroom…and my house is always a mess…I try..I really do..sometimes it just gets old to clean all the time…house is clean..and your right 5 min it is a total mess again…mood wise…i really think my teen girl is the worst..boys are soo much easier…Love this post!! :)
Brilliant post! You’ve inspired me through another crazy day with a two-year old of my own.
This post made me giggle wildly at my desk, causing general office alarm. I don’t think anyone heard the “awwwws,” when I got to the end.
First of all, you are a phenomenal writer. Hands down. Secondly, you made me look at parenthood from a completely different perspective.
I loved reading this. And I cracked up at the Gremlins part. :]
Really, you do have to enjoy this time, as it does go too fast. Mine are 7 and 8 now, and we have some of the same issues still, just evolved. There will be more time to yourself, and it will some slowly, but be bure to grab it when you can!
That is just uncanny that you and I both chose gremlins! Although I guess it’s kind of obvious when you think about it…
Secondly, I’m sitting here unshowered next to two piles of watercolored paintings drying to the kitchen table, the snack cabinet is open and a chair is pulled up to the counter below.
And I’m nodding. And laughing. At all of it.
This is wonderful and sooo, sooo true! Just picturing you trying to get them in all the car in morning made me want to go take a nap. Happy poop fishing!
Motherhood is an absolute gift. It is the hardest thing I have ever done or will do but the rewards are beyond anything else. Great Post!!
I have been told two is like a 13 year old with the mood swings.
I’ll take two over four any day. that has to be my least favorite age. I’m not sure my four year old will make it too five.
A three year old AND two-year old twins? Damn, you are a rock star. For reals.
Awwww I loved this post Kate. You’re a fabulous talented writer AND mother. I miss you and hope to see you and your little gremlins soon!
Thank goodness you turned it around at the end. I was about to give up on having kids. :)
it is a wonderful time — as exhausting as it is. the good news is every stage is wonderful (and horrifying). honestly, though, i will never miss the poop in the bathtub. ever.
At 18 weeks pregnant, this post scared me…until I got to the end!
I have a 2 and a 4 year old. Your car scenario made my laugh because it is my daily routine. My 2 year old thinks it is hilarious for me to chase him around the car. My 4 year old always wants to get in herself these days but then spends 10 minutes primping herself before finally sitting in her seat.
I really loved this post. I feel your pain!
I never get a second of free time during the day. Both of my kids are in the crazy demon stage too. I try to soak it all in, because I know that they won’t be crazy little demons forever.
Oh how I hear you! We’ll never get this back, but MAN is it totally insane!!! :)
I was just telling my mother the other day that I feel like I live with three crazy people. She told me she doesn’t remember my sister and I ever acting like that. So I guess we remember the good and not the bad.
:-)
I try to remind myself how much I already miss the little babies that kept me up all night. I know I will miss the crazy people one day too. At least I have adolescence to look forward to.
Great post!
I agree 100%. I sometimes feel sorry for myself but I realize once again that I love being a mother, I love this fleeting time, and I wouldn’t trade it for so many things that I am sacrificing!
Crazy gremlins that they are I too wouldn’t trade mine for anything in the world.
I can’t even imagine what its like with three, one can push me over the edge at any time. You truly deserve a medal.
Loved this post! I am going to print this and put it on my fridge (well, some place where I can see it since my fridge isn’t magnetic, lol).
When I scrolled down and saw that 2nd picture, I seriously busted a gut laughing. That was SO great. Such a resemblance to the cute creature, yet so… scary… so, so, demonic. It was perfect.
Fabulous post!
Luckily…I enjoy picking up toys and organizing them and I am teaching my daughter to do it too.
I’m truly living the dream!
Lovely and perfect and true. It’s such a reminder to take a deep breath and a minute. But, oh, the actual alone time shower. I miss that.
Dear Kate,
You are such an amazing writer and your blog never ceases to amaze me/crack me the hell up.
Love,
Winona
Kate, you’re amazing. This is my life with 2 and I can’t believe I’m about to go to 3. But you’re right… it’s SOOOOO worth it.
I don’t really want to tell ou this but just wait until those hormone years hit – yours and theirs. It is amazing how many times I will be sitting here perplexed by what is occurring and then that light bulb will go on over my head and I will think “Right. Teenage hormones.”
With five kids all age 10 and under, I so feel this post. I, too, am always cold. What’s up with that?
I think much of it depends on your kids. Like I said, I have five-four of them are boys-but none have been as “destructive” as my youngest. He’s a beast, but man, I am here to be a mother, and I want to cherish every moment. I know when they’re grown and gone I’ll be so sad. I do want “me time” sometimes, but all day, every day? I’ll take my little kids back, anytime!
YOU. ARE. MY. HERO. Thank you for this post!!!!!!!
Seriously, are we the same person?? Are you spying on my household??? It’s as if you wrote this about my life, except for the fact that I don’t have twins, by my son is 3 and my daughter will be 2 next week….
I’m so glad to know someone else who goes through this as well… helps me feel a little less psycho! =)
Beautiful, Kate. And so true.
To me there is nothing like freshly washed children and clean jammies and a snuggle before bed. And then after a day of crazy to see them sleeping so peacefully in their beds – that still gets me every time.
And the use of Gremlins….nice!!
When you kids were little, we saw a bumper sticker “Insanity is contagious. You get it from your kids”
Seriously, Kate, you are an incredible writer and an incredible Mom. I’m so glad you have the ability to defuse anything with humour and that you are savoring and carrying every moment in your heart. Love you.
Ahh, fishing poop out of the bathtub…glad it’s not just me.
This was so beautiful, and I couldn’t agree more. Wouldn’t trade this moment of motherhood for anything in the world.
Phew…I have read your article all the way down and I found my self really enjoying your article.
I guess you are a real writer…?
Happy blogging,
Toddler Activity
Kate, this was one of the best posts you’ve written. I loved it. We’re highlighting it over at Baby Bunching this week!
I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. So, so true!! I have a 3 y/o, a 2 y/o, and an 8 month old. So, I hear ya! The car situation is probably my least favorite, until they are all buckled, and then I can just drive and answer questions,(oh my gosh the questions) and they can’t get into anything or cause any real trouble because they are strapped in. :) But it does take me 10 minutes to get all 3 of them into the car to go somewhere.
How did I miss this? Hilarious. So true and the way you write just makes it all that much better.
Why there are not three million mothers nodding in dumbfounded comment agreement on this post???
Ha ha ha. This post rings true for me :O) I so love my darling demon spawn, too.
Just stopping by from Ann's Rants Motherhood link up – this is such a lovely post and you are so right, I look at my three year old daughter and every day marvel at how quickly time goes by, knowing all too soon she will be grown and I will be wishing for these days where I am her world and she regards me as the perfect play mate to come back again.
Surely there must be some guidelines? Don't get them wet? Don't keep them up past midnight? Something? Because 8 months is awfully close to walking and I could use some help.
This is a really good essay. Funny, so so true and sweet.
And yes THANK GOD they don't reproduce in water.
Thanks for linking up!
By way of Ann's Rants.
"Either way, I'm too busy fishing poop out of the bathtub" – hilarious. You're right, kids are a crazy, loveable entourage. Great post.