Monday, January 17, 2011

A Letter From The Brink of Insanity...Love Me

Dear Readers,

 I'm interrupting today's lunch of coffee and chicken tenders to bring you an important message. Please see below:
Ahhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, now that I've got that out of my system, I believe I can type out coherent thoughts on what I'm  going through. You see, as I tap out these words, the twins are assaulting me verbally. Louder and louder they go in a horrible twin harmony. I imagine that at this precise moment, two fat baby faces are peering between and over mahogany prison  crib bars; tears meeting drool as they combine in a gooey river headed for the collars of their t-shirts. I hear my daughter as she shouts "Gah! Gah!" in indignation. My son is only mustering a pitiful "Maaa".

    It sounds a bit harsh, but you must remember that you're reading the words of a woman on the edge. A woman who, in desperation, has just plopped her cranky little fussbudgets in bed in a desperate attempt to re-claim nap time as her own.  That's right. Due to the now irritating mobility of my babies, I can no longer tuck them in on my bed, binkies and blankets in chubby hands, and walk away. I used to be overcome with excitement as the two hour morning nap approached. Facebook was waiting. E! News was waiting to be watched. I could write....sob....in peace.
     The last few days have been filled with irregular naps and lots of frustration all around. Like a worried mother hen, I've gone in and out of their room tucking in and replacing pacifiers...all in the name of coaxing them to nap in their new spot. I've argued, scolded, and offered stuffed animals (if that's what you can call a purpled-striped sock monkey). But today....I'm done. Enough is enough.
I've tucked the final tuck. Stuck in the last pacifier. I am the Alamo and no one's getting by the little emotional fortress I've cooked up over my last six cups of coffee. NO ONE.
     Even now, I've built (what's most likely false) hope that they've gone to sleep. All's quieted while I've been typing, but that doesn't really mean much. They're probably just re-grouping...resting up for the next "attack" if you will. Doesn't matter. They'll be there tomorrow. Same nap place. Same nap time. Now Readers, I KNOW I'm not the only one out there trudging my way through this traumatic experience. Please feel free to weigh in with any comments or advice....Meanwhile, I'm going to pull a blanket over my head and rock back and forth.

Sincerely,

Paige K.