1 year on and my twins are adorable. They're babbling and nearly walking and a real delight... most of the time. So why am I so fucking mental?!
I'm fine for most of the time but some times.. when they've both been crying for ages and I'm tired and stressed... I just lose the plot. I shout at them and instead of just fixing the problem I get all angry. Poor things. I'd never ever hurt them but jeeeeeeez - the noise of it! And I'm sure you know how it is... when they're both going - you can pick one up but the other still screams. and then you put a calm baby down to pick up the other and they start up again.
I'm coming on here to rant really.
My man's in bed asleep and I'm in the kitchen - just finishing up going through my work emails - 'cos I need to keep on top of things - running our business is tough - especially with a vat return due next week. Oh - and I have NO help. None. No family nearby. Its just me and the twins - all of the time. I've just stopped b/f so maybe its hormones.
But I really thought I'd do a better job than this.
My twins deserve better. All I can remember of their first year is a few flash points where I got angry with them and shouted.
I can't remember anything good.
I thought getting past their birthday - I'd be able to put the hell that was their "birth" behind me. But that lingers on.
And what is it about strangers wanting to PAW at the twins all the time?
FFS - just stop putting your shitty grubby hands on my babies faces.
But I can't seem to say that to anyone - I'm all polite and don't say anything and then after I cry and rant about how I should put my twins first instead of a total stranger and just tell them to FUCK OFF.
Eugh - I'm full of rage and upset and shoulda woulda coulda.
And my poor twins need someone stable who's nice and even tempered and NOT MENTAL.
I tried to call my doctor this afternoon but they were having a GPs meeting so I couldn't make an appointment.
But I'm nervous to actually tell anyone I'm struggling in-case they put the wheels in motion to take my babies away from me.
Although no-one could - they bang on developmentally, and we play with flash cards, all kinds of v-tech toys - oh and eating our own shoes and socks of course... and they feast on homemade quinoa patties for gods sake!
I'm not sure what's held me back from asking for help... I guess the thought that I'm better than this.
I'm not a crumbling mess of a mother. I run a business. I have staff.
I effect a wonderfully posh accent when I need to.
I think I just need some nice calming drugs....
Is it just me? Please tell me its not just me living in a haze of rage / regret?