Tits on a Toad

I went to see my parents over the weekend, while the DH was away for work. He left on Thursday, at 8:00 am, and he was not due back until Sunday, at 8 or 9. Yep, I was flying solo, as The Yellow Wallpaper puts it, for 3 days and 3 nights.

The first night was pretty brutal; we were all tired, I was a bit nervous and Baby A was still wide awake and climbing the walls at 10:00PM. I finally gave up, turned off all the lights, except for one in the bedroom and crashed with Baby B, who had been snoring away like he was sawing down a tree since 8:45. It took Baby A about fifteen minutes to figure out wandering around a darkened house and chattering to himself was boring, and he climbed in with us and fell asleep. (But he was up at 6:00, as usual. Grrrr.)

Friday was a bit better; we had out usual playgroup in the morning, then we went for a walk with some friends. Afterwards we went home, raked some leaves and did our usual bath, dinner, play routine. They were both asleep by 8:30, and I went to bed at 9:00. We only woke up once each.

Therefore, on Saturday, when the three of us rolled out of bed at 6:30, I felt terrific. Which was lucky, because I had a bit of a trying morning. As I mentioned, I went to see my parents on Saturday. My sister had some relatives from Italy staying with her, and she had brought them to my parents’ house to show them a real New England autumn. I wanted to amuse my guys, give myself a little mental respite from being on on on call for the past 24 hours, and my mother wanted to see the twins. So, I did some grocery shopping in the early morning, came home to drop it all off, then carried on their house, which is about 40 minutes drive from my town.

We arrived at 10 or so, and went inside. My mother greeted us as nicely as you could like, but my father, who works hard and gets up early, or should it be, gets up early to work hard? was as cross as two sticks. He had arisen at 4:00 am (which for him is normal, so don’t get all sorry for him – he chooses to do so, and has chosen to do so for the past 30 years) and done some work. Then he came home and took a nap. When I arrived, with my hyper twin toddlers, he had just woken up and was on the computer checking his stocks. I greeted him, as nicely as you like, and got a “Humph” in reply. I was a bit nonplussed, but what with three cups of coffee and about 9 hours sleep, I was equal to it. I gave him some "space", helped my mother set the table for lunch and got the boys settled to play. My sister was due to arrive by 12:30, with her assorted family members in various languages, and we were to have lunch together. She had stayed overnight on Friday, and had gone out with everyone to pick apples in the morning.

Baby A was suffering from a little upset stomach, so I was doing the rice, banana, applesauce diet to help solidify his intestines a bit. He had eaten at 7:00, so by 11:00 I knew he needed another snack. I got the rice warmed up and a banana sliced, and asked my father to lend a hand.

Me: “Daddy, would you give Baby B a ride in this wagon while I feed Baby A some rice? He’s been a bit sick to his stomach, so I’d like to concentrate on him.”
Father: “Why do you have to feed him now? It’s not even 11:00!”
Me: “He’s sick, he’s two years old and he last ate at 7:00. He can’t go more than 4 hours without a bite to eat, and he needs rice for his diarrhea.”
Father: “Oh. Sorry, I can’t.”
Me: “Okay.”
In my mind: “Ooohh, that’s right! Checking the stock market is more critical than helping your own child feed her sick two year old. Silly me.”

HOW-ever, the tongue was bitten and Baby A had some rice to tide him over.

Later, as I was feeding the two of them lunch with my mother; my sister had not yet arrived, and my father was out cutting the grass; I asked my mother why he was being so crabby.
She said he’d had a hard morning, and all the confusion was making him more tired. I asked why he didn’t try to get some more rest, why he didn’t wake up later, and/or why didn’t he take a longer nap? He knows he gets tired, and he knew everyone was coming over, and has known about our visit for the past week. My mother pointed out that he is almost 70 and a bit of a mule. I agreed, we finished our lunch, and I got the boys in the car so we could go to our next social engagement. We had had a longstanding date at the local children’s museum for a book reading at 2:00, and I knew they needed a nap beforehand. Also, I did not want to be in the house when my father got back from his lawn mowing. My mother and I had heard the lawnmower break down, and I thought that would not improve his temper. Therefore, I skedaddled.

I was surprised, but pleased that my father called later to apologize for being grouchy. I was very gracious, if I say so myself. I told him I understood, I too have been tired, and I realize it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for me anymore. I also pointed out that when one is tired and crabby one generally feels put upon by everything and everyone. I also feel as if no-one can possible fathom how exhausted I am. Therefore, Daddy, I can sympathize. He said I was sweet, I agreed, he laughed, and we’ll get together soon.

It’s wonderful for me to see how much better I feel about my situation and myself. I really was a smidgen depressed for that first year and a bit with the twins. Breastfeeding is fantastic and wonderful and great for everyone, but it’s so hard on the mother’s nerves, and that should not be denied! I was constantly drained, mentally and emotionally, as well as physically, and I felt put upon by everything and everyone. I felt as if no one could possible fathom how exhausted I was, and I felt no one understood or cared. Perhaps if I had been blessed with just one baby instead of two, perhaps if they were less rambunctious and less noisy, or perhaps if they had been two girls instead of two boys, perhaps my experience would have been different. Perhaps not! It’s impossible to tell, as interesting as it is to speculate.

There are those who tell me I complained too much in the beginning, to the point of alienating those who might have helped me. Perhaps I did. I was too sunk into myself to know. There are those who tell me I was too dramatic in my description of the horrors and the trials of new motherhood. Perhaps I was - to them – but to me, having twins was like moving to a new town where one constantly gets lost; learning a new job, that is not only difficult, but a bit unpleasant; buying that first house and doing construction on it yourself and getting married, all in the same 6 months. Exhilarating? Yes. Amazing and joyful? Yes. Exhausting, stressful, difficult, emotional and frightening? Absolutely! George? Does this sound familiar?

A good friend recently told me that she too thought I was depressed when we first met. We both agree that the blog/vent, plus the weaning plus the three-day a week daycare/school are all working very well for my mental health. I also know that if I’d had my own dear sister closer than an hour away and my own mother closer than 40 minutes from my house and/or a bunch of buddies from pre-baby days living nearby, I would not have been so isolated and not have caught cabin fever. Or did I catch baby fever? I can really, honestly and truly really relate to my playgroups pals. They are all new in the area, having come from Maine and Wisconsin and Kentucky and California and Washington and all over to do their internships at a big name local hospital. The medical partner’s partners are all in new towns, in new houses, with new babies and need understanding. I am delighted to be there, I feel glad to around! I needed it, and I know what can help.

My point is this; my father was acting all crabby and unreasonable and was being about as useful as tits on a toad. I felt annoyed, of course I did. I went over there with certain needs, which went unmet. However, I could actually see what he was feeling, and knew by his tone of voice that he was pissed at nothing and everything and was super tired. So I understood, gave him space and left as soon as I could. I can’t waste my time with irritable people. I have toddlers to chase!

I have learned from my difficult experiences with staying home, alone, all day, everyday, and nursing twin babies, with no visitors, no family and no friends nearby. I have learned that tired people lash out, I was one in my time. I have learned that when you ask, “Will you help me?” and the reply is, “No, I won’t,” that is an honest reply, and not to be offended. I have been through it, and have the scars to prove it. Literally.

Does this mean I am going to be patient and understanding and gracious from now on? HA HA HA! No way! Um, err, umm, I mean, I hope so, but I might not always feel so well rested and so patient as I was that day. However, I am now much more aware, which, I feel, is a critical step to being more understanding.