My blog drought of late is due to a combination of busyness and, frankly, exasperation. These babes are exhausting. Little spirit-sapping resource sponges, the lot of 'em. I love them mercilessly; don't doubt that for a second. I decided, though, to post this less-than-peaches-and-cream report because it is reality.
There are a variety of (generally unsolicited) opinions regarding the level of difficulty to expect of twin rearing. One is that this moment in time, with infants, is by far the most difficult time we'll experience. Another is that this is the best of times; we will never again have it so easy. It's a different kind of difficult, right? A different kind of easy? I mean, it's doubtless that when the teen years roll in I'll experience a little nostalgia for these days.
I guess it's all about us. I don't mean that in a narcissistic way. I simply mean that it's all about our personal experience and how we handle the issues that arise to meet us along the way. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. Ok, it's about them.
The babes are growing and healthy. I'm thrilled about that. They're now smiling fairly regularly and seem to be experiencing more of their environment. I'm not yet convinced that they know me from the garbage man, but I'm sure that's on the horizon.
Knowing that exhaustion, sleep deprivation and terror at the possibility of doing something wrong is completely normal, doesn't really help, does it? It's just always difficult...but so often sprinkled with moments of exhilaration and joy that you find reassurance that you can get up and do it again tomorrow. And I'll bet they could pick you out of a lineup of garbagemen!
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