A Different Kind of Hard

The other day that we were at the Farmer's Market we sat next to a young couple (they looked to be about in their mid-20's) during our dinner. They had two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. The girl looked to be about 3 or 4 (of course what do I really know about size in relation to age when it comes to babies) and their little boy looked to be close to about 1 year. The dad started making small talk with us, asking us if Da'Gorgeouses were twins and how old they were. We responded then the mom chimed in. She said that it was tough having two, and that some days they just made her nuts and totally exhausted her, she couldn't even imagine having two the same age. I laughed and told her I knew exactly how she felt. As a matter of fact I told her that every time I run into another mom with twins that look a little older I always ask them the same thing, "It gets easier right? I mean, as they grow older it things do get easier?" They always smile and say the same thing, "Yes, don't worry, it does."

Well, now that Da'Gorgeouses are two, and I'm more comfortable in my MOM skin, I've decided one thing, I've decided that I'm going to be truthful if anyone ever asks me that question. It's the one thing my sister is always thanking me for, she says I don't sugar-coat being a mom, I tell her like it is whenever she asks---and sometimes even when she doesn't ask (of course, that may be the real reason she doesn't have any kids yet...sorry Grammy). I love my girls dearly, I worked hard to become a mom harder than I've ever had to work for anything in my entire life, and I can truthfully say that not every single minute is all cake and ice-cream, some minutes are downright tough and during those moments I question myself and my parenting decisions constantly.

Take yesterday for instance. I had a raging headache, DrillSgt. spent all day plus at work trying to get ready for his students on Monday, and Da'Gorgeouses were screaming off and on throughout the day. Screaming and yelling and crying + raging headache do not always equal positive interactions, or positive moments to reflect back upon. Throughout the day we had a quite a few meltdowns, a couple of timeouts and lots and lots of crying. That doesn't mean there weren't any positives, I mean telling Da'Gorgeouses that my head hurt caused Pistol to say, as she leaned on my shoulder and looked directly into my eyes, "You got a...stops to think and search for the word in that computer brain of hers...You got a headache?"---I didn't even know she knew that word! So if anyone should ever ask me the question I ask all those twin moms, "Does it get easier?" I will, without a doubt, tell them what I told that young mom, and what after being a mom for only 2 years I've come to realize, "It doesn't get easier...it just becomes a different kind of hard."