motherhood, parenthood

New Year Resolutions

Convincing myself that I can become a better person. Once again. For the upcoming year. Sigh..

Every year I make the same resolution – try to become a better person. Sleep more. Sleep better. Yell less. Meditate. Ground my soul. Exercise. Eat healthier. Become a better parent. Become someone I want to be proud of looking back on the year when the year’s end comes around.

Year 2017 accomplishments:
We are all still here and surviving through the hell of infant hood to toddler hood.
We have become a stronger family and are doing better in communicating with one another.
We are learning how to become better people every day for the sake of our sanity and our relationships with friends and family.

Resolution for the new year:

motherhood, parenthood

Thus Begins The Descent

I feel like I’m going crazy. Let’s be real. I am going crazy.

Blame it on the lack of sleep. Blame it on the kids. Blame it on the lack of adult communication. But I don’t think I’m okay. I don’t know if I ever was okay. Not only am I in a constant crisis of searching for an identity, I am actually not sure if I ever had one. As I delve deeper into this social psychology class, I don’t even know if I identify with a group which apparently is super important in evolving as a person.

I had yet another melt down today. Except this time I actually thought about running away. Seriously. I thought about packing a bag and going to the gym for a few hours to clear my head since running away to Bora Bora wasn’t an option. I’m just so sick and tired of repeating my days and my words over and over and over again to these kids. It’s as if they’re falling on deaf ears. And, before you say it, I know. I know this is what being a parent is all about. Tolerating them through their mistakes and growing pains until they get it right. But that feels like it’ll happen in five billion light years. I’m tired of being on-call every single minute, every single second of every day. Seriously.

You turn around for one second and Dom has his hands on scissors. You turn around to handle that and Shane has taken off his pants and diaper. You turn around to take care of that issue and Dom has gotten a hold of a car track and chasing Donte around the living room trying to hit him over the head. You handle that and Shane has climbed a chair to try to get to the leftover Goldfish and smoothie on the table. You get him off safely and Dom is now climbing the hubby’s computer chair and pounding away on the keys. I’m just really, really, really tired. Tired of life. Tired of existing solely to have eyes on two danger-loving toddlers who seem to love going diaper-less but are not yet potty trained. All day. From the second their little eyes open to the very long hours their little bodies finally fall asleep.

I’m just tired of answering the same questions from my parents about the kids and life. I’m tired of justifying every aspect of my life to my parents. I’m tired of saying “I’m okay” when I’m really not only because there’s nothing anybody can really do to help. I’m tired of constantly feeling like I’m failing at life. I’m tired of feeling like I’m just wasting everyone’s time and energy in existing when I fail as a mother, wife, and daughter. Every few days or so, I end up going to a really dark place which has been taking me longer and longer to get out of. But during those good few days, they’re great. They remind me why I love where I am. They remind me that these moments too shall pass. They remind me that if I can just get through those dark patches, I will come back and continue fighting through the obscurity that is this stage of life.

But I guess for now I’ll just keep praying that He gives me the strength to make it through these

family, parenthood

Expectations VS Reality

I’m following someone from my past who just recently had a baby. She had a difficult birth and since her first wasn’t the ideal birth she envisioned, the second was a bit harder to handle it seems since she had all these expectations of what and how she wanted it to be the second time around. She’s very much immersed into the whole motherhood and body thing where she’s all about being in tune with her body during her whole pregnancy and is very into the whole natural birthing wonder of the human body. Her baby had some difficulty after birth and had to spend a few weeks in the NICU. I know she’s probably just venting on Facebook, a space where she’s surrounded by friends and family and a wonderful support group, but as an acquaintance who also went through some difficulty after birth, it’s a tad frustrating to read through these comments of what she thought things would be like and how they are supposed to be and how disappointed and frustrated she is with reality. Like, we get it. You can’t spend the time you want with your older son in this beautiful weather because your little one is taking up so much of your time. I get what it’s like to be cooped up at home and not get some fresh air because you’re just busy with a baby whose sole mission in its little life so far is to make you miserable and hate yourself with inconsolable crying. I get that life was difficult and disappointing and nothing like you imagined it when your baby was in the NICU and whisked away from you after birth. BUT YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE. I think I’m more sensitive to her postings because I went through it too, but never venting about it on Facebook and only a few close people know about Shane and his struggles. I think I’m just annoyed because I feel as though she has all these expectations about how motherhood should be – the adorable hours of intoxicating baby smells and cuddles, the dreamy closeness you get when you’re breastfeeding, and the magical feeling you get when you’re baby wearing and able to function in public with the use of both your hands. BUT THESE ARE NOT EVEN REAL EXPECTATIONS. THESE ARE EXPECTATIONS CULTIVATED BY THE MEDIA AND SOCIETY. YOU AREN’T DOING ANYTHING WRONG IF YOU’RE SPENDING DAYS AT HOME WITHOUT SHOWERING BECAUSE YOUR BABY WON’T STOP CRYING FOR LONGER THAN 10 MINUTES IN STRETCHES OF HOURS. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO MISS OUT ON BONDING MOMENTS IF YOU DON’T BREASTFEED. YOU DON’T NEED TO FEEL LIKE SHIT IF YOU PUT YOUR OLDER CHILD UP IN FRONT OF A TV WHEN YOU’RE CARING FOR A BABY OR IF YOUR CHILD FALLS IN THE PLAYGROUND AND YOU’RE NOT THERE IN TWO SECONDS TO PICK HIM UP BECAUSE YOUR HANDS ARE FULL WITH ANOTHER BABY. YOU’RE NOT A FAILURE BECAUSE OF ANY OF THIS. WE’RE ALL JUST SURVIVING. WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO GET AS MUCH SLEEP AS WE CAN WHILE WE TRY TO FIND OURSELVES IN THIS NEW ROLE AS A MOTHER (OF MULTIPLES). WE’RE ALL TRYING TO FIND A SWEET SPOT WHERE WE TEETER ON THE BRINK OF HAPPINESS/SANITY AND COMPLETE, UTTER MADNESS.

I’m just tired. And annoyed.
All I really have to do is UNFOLLOW.

I am actually really happy for her. She has a wonderful social media following and feels comfortable enough to share all her worries on her page. Some days I wish I had that. Others, I am just grateful for the support system I have now.


“How’s mom life?” 

There’s only one answer to that, right? 

“It’s great!” 

Even if you feel like you’re drowning. Even if you feel like you’re consumed with self-loathing thoughts. Even when you’ve realized it’s been a whole week without any adult conversation aside from “what do you want for dinner” and “how was your day”. Even when you are so sleep deprived you’re literally a walking zombie going through the motions of feeding babies, cleaning up babies, saying “no” to babies, chasing after babies, praying and rocking babies to nap, and repeat. Even if the only thing getting you through the day is the 10 minute shower you begin the day with. Even if you’re so exhausted you feel like you just want out of the life which then makes you feel like the worst mother. Even on the days you’re too tired and your child eats a bag of cookies for lunch and you feel like a failure. 

Even then. Any other answer aside from “it’s great” is not acceptable. An acquaintance asked me this very question at a mutual friend’s wedding we attended today (sans babies!). 

“How’s mom life?” He asked eagerly. 

“Eh,…” I hesitated, as I took a sip of much needed nectar from the gods in the form of fermented grapes. 

“Wonderful, I assume? I bet it’s the best being at home with the two babies!”

“Wonderful is definitely a word to describe it.” 

He kind of slinked away awkwardly after looking at me quizzically at my response. 

What else was I to say?

“Oh, you know. Breastfeeding is going well, but the baby doesn’t really seem to be interested in solids at 7 mo. Baby Shane is a handful, but considering his diagnosis, he’s excelling in every area of development! Baby Dom is now mobile and getting into everything his older brother is getting into. We’re moving the little one into his crib and I’m going through a roller coaster of emotions. Life is hard. I’m lonely at home. I wait for hubby to get home and when he does I fight a computer game for his attention. I’m sleep deprived and exhausted. My emotions and hormones are still trying to get balanced. I’m angry and frustrated most days. I’m elated and blessed others. We have no time or money to do much or go out much. We mainly keep to ourselves cause it’s just too kick of a hassle to go anywhere or do anything logistically with two babies under two. But aside from all that, I’m great. Life is great. Parenthood is great.” 


The Regrets of the Day 

Every evening I lay next to my littlest. I watch his little eyes flutter. I listen to his little sighs amidst his snores. I feel his little fingers and toes twitch. 

Every night I think about the day we went through. Every night I regret not doing enough for them. Every night I regret not playing with them more. I regret not paying more attention to them. I regret not preventing their boredom, their falls, and their shrieks of frustration. I regret every frustrated scream I aim at them. I regret yelling at them as they try to launch themselves the couches. I regret holding them down during diaper changes as they try to touch their butts and pee pees. I regret not giving them 100% of my attention all the time. 

I know I’m doing the best I can. But it doesn’t negate my feelings of inadequacy and failure.