Sink or Swim

My blog and my laundry had a war... and the blog won. There is still an enormous pile of laundry on top of my dryer, but the voices in my head needed to get out worse than I needed to get it folded. It happens.
My twin girls had their sixth birthday party last weekend. Their birthday is tomorrow, which means that by this time six years ago I had checked into the hospital and was in labor. They weren't born until 6:17 and 6:30 the next morning! Actually, I knew I was in labor on Sunday night, so by the time they got here I had been in labor a grand total of 32 hours, but who's counting? Oh yeah, that would be ME. My husband was there for every agonizing moment, and he swears I have forgotten some of the horrors of that day. He thinks I must have in order to be willing to sign up to do it all over again. I submit to you that I haven't forgotten a darn thing. Admittedly, there were a few moments that were clouded by drugs (lots of drugs) and exhaustion, but that is not the same thing as, "I forgot." I remember what I went through, and although it was difficult, painful, and at times downright terrifying, I was ready to do it all over again because it was also WORTH IT.
Parenting is hands down the most enormous challenge I have ever undertaken. It is a never ending job that begins when your eyes open. I haven't had an undisturbed night of deep sleep since my children were born. For the first eight weeks or so of the twins' lives I was convinced that if I closed my eyes they would stop breathing. After we moved them to the nursery, I slept with the baby monitor screen on for another month. I guess it was too much trouble to sit up and hit the button when they woke me up in the middle of the night. Speaking of being awakened, a fireman's got nothing on a mom. I can be awake and halfway up the stairs in 30 seconds or less if one of my kids needs me. Notice I said that I "can be." If I play my cards right and they wake dad up too, I can usually beg him into going to check on things. Besides, I've already admitted that he's sweeter than me. He has a lot more patience than I do when he's getting the low down on a bad dream just like it's four in the afternoon instead of four in the morning.
If you are particularly unlucky, you fall into a blissful sleep only to be awakened two hours later by someone screaming, "Mom! I threw up in my bed!" That particular phenomenon combines two of my least favorite things about parenthood. Sleep deprivation and vomit. I HATE vomit. I don't throw up often, and if I do, something is really wrong. Usually it's related to kidney stones or pregnancy. Thankfully I don't deal with either one very often. My own vomit is bad enough, but cleaning up someone else's is almost more than I can take. Smells really get to me, and that's one of the worst. The only thing I hate worse than vomit is potty training, and we're about to start on that wonderful journey (the last two words were written in my sarcastic font) again. More on that later!
Every time my children turn a year older, I think about how much my life has changed since they came into it. Everything is different than it used to be. I have whole new set of priorities. Things that used to be the center of the universe as far as I was concerned are all but forgotten. I've had to consider subjects I'd never given any thought to (who knew that kids didn't come here knowing how to dress themselves and use the toilet) and I've been forced to see myself the way other people see me. If at any point in my day I can be the kind of person my kids think I am, I've done really well.
Which brings me to my point: I think most parents are doing the best they can with what they have. Now I realize that there are people out there who suck at parenting and have no plans to change that. I'm ignoring them for the moment. I think most people who set out to become parents, and even some of the ones who became parents unintentionally, really are trying to be the best parents they know how to be. Some of us had a better example set for us than others. When you are really honest about it, you have two choices. You can be the kind of parent your parents were, or you can make a conscious decision to be different. I am eternally grateful that my mom didn't just go with what she knew. She grew up with an abusive, alcoholic father. Domestic and child abuse were part of her daily life. She wanted better for me, and she made sure that my childhood and hers were at total opposite ends of the spectrum.
Everyone has had a parent tell them at some point, "Well, when you have kids of your own, you can do things the way you want them done." That's usually immediately followed by, "And I hope someday you have a kid who acts just like you!" This is the mother's curse, and IT WORKS. Believe me, ladies, it works. Use it wisely. The great thing about the whole "when you have kids..." thing is that it's TRUE! You can do it the way you want. And I will guarantee that it will be harder than you thought! Some people fall into the trap of, "Well, my parents did this or that and I turned out okay!" Personally, I often find myself trying to be the kind of parent I want to be instead of the one that I am. It would certainly be easier to just go with what I know. But there are things I want to do differently with my kids, just like everyone else.
As first-time parents of multiples, my husband and I were thrown into parenthood at the deep end and told to sink or swim. Some days you move through the water with the precision of an Olympic synchronized swimmer. Other days it's all you can do to keep your head above water and hope someone rescues you before you give up and go under. I spent a lot of time treading water when my babies were little. Sometimes all I could think was, "If I can just keep everyone alive until tomorrow..." I am happy to report that these days I swim a lot more often, and I've learned to let go, stretch my arms out, and float when I get tired. I'm definitely no Micheal Phelps, but maybe those Infant Swimming Resource Lessons were teaching me as much as they taught my kids. Now I know how to swim, float, swim until I get to the edge of the pool. It's worth mentioning that there are some days when I'm pretty sure I'm swimming in the ocean...with the sharks. Maybe I'll hear the "Jaws" music in time.