When I imagined myself a stay at home mom years ago it wasn't nuthin' like this.
Back at the (now I see I was young as hell) age of 31 when I suddenly wanted to have babies (after declaring to anyone who'd listen that it was never happening) I knew it was all I wanted to do. I was in between jobs anyway and I had such trouble finding my next occupation because there was this voice in my head that would interrupt every line of thinking saying "BUT I JUST WANT TO HAVE BABIES.'
And it would pause for a moment and then say, even louder.
"N. O. W."
Mind you I didn't even have a stinking boyfriend. That year I was back in the internet dating pool and was enduring the four seasons of weird boyfriends: too thin, too fat, too short and just plain ugly. Lest you think I am a mean old beeyotch, I really am not kidding. At the time I tended to date anyone who liked me first, so when it came to internet dating I didn't have to reach very high. Any man who approached me in a non whore like manner was in. You wanted to talk and walk on beaches and love someone forever? In. You're not married? In. You have a pulse and all of your appendages, even better!
So in the midst of this lack of choosiness I got to experience a wide range of the human male. And as I'm typing this I'm pretty sure my husband has turned off his computer and gone to sit in a dark room. Ah well. Blogging isn't for the weak of heart.
While I was dating the last one (just plain ugly) I started watching those TLC shows about birthin' babies. Oh good god, I got sucked in and all teary and sobby and when a close friend went and got pregnant on me and then showered me with all her pregnancy hormones it was all over for me I guess. I got the bug. I wanted to be pregnant. I hadn't thought through most of the rest of it, I just wanted to be pregnant. That's why I blame it on her hormones. I haven't ever and don't really like babies. Although my own seem to be above reproach, but that is now, not then. So it wasn't so much that I wanted babies as that I wanted to be pregnant and I was certain that if they would just pop out already 9 years of age I'd be fine.
Fast forward to the present, invitro assisted million children I possess and you'll see that I was ill prepared for stay at home motherhood. I was sure while I had the triplets gestating that I'd handle it myself. Heck I had cared for 400 plus sick animals all by myself on a daily basis, why not 3 kids?
Well, strangely enough it didn't work out that way. I am dependent upon not only my mother in law to come 5 days a week to my home, but also 2 nannies who cover 6 mornings a week. I've never admitted to anyone online how much nanny time I have, and the truth is that before I got myself all pregnant again I was weaning off of them and down to 3 days a week, but that pregnancy stuff isn't for the weak of spirit and apparently I suck at it so much I went right back to 6 days of help. And I haven't quit them yet despite my best of intentions. I mean to take my children back for whole days at a time other than Sunday. I really do. I just can't get it together. The very idea of managing the triplets and the baby 24 hours a day gives me palpitations.
And as I sit here on the cusp of a 4 day holiday with no nannies I start to hyperventilate. I surely never thought I'd dread 4 days of 24 hour childcare on my shoulders. I thought that I and motherhood would form a close bond. That I would thrive under the stresses and challenges of this new "calling" of mine just like I had every other job in the past. That I would sit at the end of the day and be happy that I was a full time working at home mom. That I would never wonder what the hell I was thinking.
What the hell was I thinking?
This mother stuff works for some ladies, and I don't think the solution is for me to get a job because I still think I want to do this, but I somehow have to make myself do it. When we get out of this ridiculous "temporary but is turning into a long term hell" apartment and into our forever house I do intend to take charge again. I am just terrified that I'm going to fail I suppose. That, when faced with fewer breaks and more face time with each child on a daily basis I might just turn into a superbly bad mom. I might figure out I'm no good at this. And I suck at being bad at something even more than I suck at anything else in this world.