Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Mom's a crab

You know, when I was a single, stupid, ignorant fool, I thought my friend was a little hard on her kids. She had three pre-teen to teen age girls (actually she had 5 but the other two were all grown up) and I hung out a lot with them. She would place them all in the back seat of a car and within 10 minutes there was whining, crying, or complaining about the abuse from the other occupants of said backseat by one of the three if not more. She would very rapidly move from talking normally to telling them in no uncertain terms that they could be left by the side of the road to walk home if they did not SHUT. UP. Well she never used the words shut up, but you know what I mean. Speak and die.

I always cringed a bit, I mean, I was one of those in the backseat once and it is HARD to get along for too long together with your sibling. Isn't it? I thought, I know they're annoying but shouldn't you have more patience? But I knew I thought she was a great mom and the kids honestly loved her to bits and her life is hard so I decided to drop my judgement and assume that she knew what she was doing. But I didn't forget feeling like maybe she needed to chill a bit.

Well. Hmm. Lets see here. Due to the lack of sleep acquired during 4, count 'em, 4 bouts of colds with triplets that has now even devolved to the point that two are on nebulizers to stop wheezing, which means I have not had a REM cycle in approximately 8 weeks and actually means I feel more tired than I did with three newborn triplets, I officially hang my head in shame. Oh that I judged a mother of many children ever. I mean, these kids are lucky I haven't left them out for recycling yet. By accident at least if not on purpose. I AM TIRED.

And if they have one more fight over the one toy out of a thousand that they own that two of them wants at the same time? I am not responsible for my actions. I have confiscated toy after toy some days because of this endless battle. As soon as one kid picks up a toy someone else wants it too. They love sitting in the toy box that does not comfortably fit 2 of them in it but god knows, they will all three try to climb in once one of them has. The toy box itself has been removed from the room when the only other choice was to stuff them all in it and close the lid, which, I'm told, is child abuse unfortunately. But at least they'd all be happy that they were in it? Not?

People, I'm losing my mind. The universe is trying to kill me one night at a time. I am now that crabby mom I always wondered about! I hope to heck my kids remember me as happy. Perhaps they will once they stop picking up every illness being passed around. Perhaps it's just a mom of siblings thing? Maybe the fighting just wears so fast that you just end up snapping faster than seems called for. Because it is also inevitable that the most fighting happens when everyone is the most crabby from being sick or tired and that is just a recipe for disaster.


  1. I never had children. I wanted children. Also, like you, I cringed when I watched others with theirs because I always knew that I could do a better job. The cure I found came through a couple of friends who allowed me to take care of their two once a year while they went away for time alone together.

    The plan was magical. We worked this so that I was with the darlings during the school week. I had the opportunity to experience their regular routine...just for a week. I got them up, helped them with breakfast, off to the bus, then saw them in the afternoon after school. I shuttled them to music lessons, dance lessons and sports practices. We took in a couple of special events too. I saw they were fed, bathed, helped with homework and got them to bed on time.

    We had great fun. I remember helping them paint pictures, singing songs, jumping up and down, running around and being crazy. I also remember one year when they both came down with a virus and ran high temps. The little one didn't make it to the bathroom even through I tried to carry her. I had the pleasure of cleaning vomit from the carpet. I remember arguments too.

    I did this for several years. I would recommend it for anyone who does not have children. Every year when my friends returned I remember how rested they looked. I also remember that they always invited me to stay for Sunday night supper. But by that time my bags were already packed and in the trunk of my car. I was ready to head home and return to my life, thankful for my blessings with a renewed appreciation and understanding for parenthood.

    Hang in there.

  2. Wait until they are fighting over who gets to use the car...