Priorities

As I sit down to type this, there is a layer of dust a half an inch thick across every surface of my house. There is cat hair literally static clung to my curtains. My daughters 0-3 month clothes have been washed in Dreft, dried, and folded, and have sat that way on the kitchen table for over 24 hours now. The top of my stove has a dirty pot, frying pan, and baking sheet on top of it. My shower is in desperate, and I mean desperate, need of a deep clean. The hamper in Dave and I's room overfloweth. I have showered, but not done my hair or put on any make up, let alone brushed my teeth yet today.

Why?

Because I have 10 1/2 week old twins.

And because I have 10 1/2 week old twins, my life B.T. (before twins) is no longer.

And let me be clear, I would not have it any other way. I absolutely love my children. I would not trade them for anything. ANYTHING.

But, it's hard.

Motherhood is hard.

Having two newborns is hard.

Really hard.

When David and I were dealing with unexplained infertility, there were few things I hated more than mothers who complained about their babies. Whether they had legitimate reason to complain or not, I couldn't stand it. I would always think to myself "I would give my right arm to be up with a screaming baby at 3am! How can you possibly complain when you have everything I want?" I vowed to never be one of those women who complained and caused my friends who were still on the other side of infertility to think "oh how quickly she has forgotten..."

Friends, I have not forgotten. Just the other day Lucas was fussy and would cry his eyes out if I so much as motioned like I was going to sit down. He wanted to be held, and walked around. And that was that. And you know what? I didn't mind a bit. I said to him "oh my son, I cried tears just like that while I was waiting for you". And it's true. I often can be found leaning over the crib with my two sleeping babes in it, just staring over them, praying over them, admiring God's handiwork. I remember how much we wanted them, how long we waited for them. I remember how hard the wait was.

I know what I have. I am grateful for it everyday.

But that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

And a lot of what's hard about it is it isn't going how I thought it would. How I dreamed it would.
There can be danger in spending years building something up in your mind.

A few weeks ago I sat in front of my husband and sobbed the words "I am not the mother I thought I would be". I was exhausted. Truly exhausted. And my house -which I pride myself on keeping orderly- was a disaster zone. I hadn't showered in like 36 hours, and going to the bathroom felt like a luxury.

I was having a hard time.

I simply could not do it all.

Something had to give.

Well, lots of things actually.

Like myself. Gone are the days of my beloved 20 minute showers. Gone are the days of straightening and styling my hair. Gone are the days of putting on make up. Gone are the days of filing my nails. Gone are the days of wearing anything that I don't mind being spit up on.

And then my house. Gone are the days where my floors were clean, vacuum lines showing in my carpet. Gone are the days where my bed was made every day. Gone are the days when my hamper never filled above the brim. Gone are the days when my sink never saw dirty dishes for more than 5 minutes.

And you know what, it's ok.

I am learning to let it be ok.

It's not easy. I have to fight my natural urges to be distracted by the messes. I have to fight myself to focus on what's really important.

While there is peace to be found in order, I need to strike a balance that swings heavily the other way. Disorder. Disorder in my home and in myself so that I can enjoy my children more.
When I cried those words to David, what was at the heart of it was my sadness over my inability to just sit and enjoy my babies. I found myself wishing they would fall asleep or be content so that I could get things done. I would rock them to sleep and stare at the dust gathering on the entertainment center, just waiting for them to be out so that I could clean it. I hated that my house was in such disarray, and I couldn't force myself to focus on anything else, no matter how much I wanted to. I would find myself thinking things like "it'll be easier to stay on top of things once they are a little older and taking longer, more timely naps..." and then one day, I realized mid-thought, that I was essentially wishing away this time in my childrens lives. This time that is so precious. This time that we won't get back.
And I hated myself for it.

So, I have made it a matter of prayer and determination to be better about letting other things go. My email inbox is out of control. I am behind on phone calls and thank you notes. I don't have time to do my hair, and so won't like the way I look in pictures. My bathroom mirror is going to have spots on it awhile longer. But you know what? It's ok. I will have stared into my precious son and my precious daughters eyes. I will have talked to them and listened, undistracted, to them "talk"back. Years from now, it won't matter to me what my house looked like during these days, but it will matter that I spent time with my babies. I know I will regret feeling like I was not present with them for their early days, so I have to make some changes now.

I am aware that will things will get easier, and the babies will require a little less of me as time goes on, but I am also aware that this new mindset of letting things be less than I think they should be is gonna have to stick around for awhile, as in a few years at least. Luke & Abbey are only going to be little babies for awhile, and then only little toddlers for awhile, and on and on and on...

I am trying to lower my standards as to how things should look or how our day should go, because when I set the bar too high (or really, set it at all) I am only setting us up to fail, and that's not fair to the babies or to me. When I put too many things on my "to do" list for the day, I end up frustrated with myself, and feeling inadequate. I end up frustrated with my babies, for needing so much attention. And obviously, that's not fair to them. I do not want to allow this trend to continue. After all, it's not their fault we bought a house with white subway tiles for bathroom flooring that show every single speck of dust or dirt.

So if you plan on stopping by to visit, please excuse the mess, and my breath. I haven't had -or made- the time to clean my house, or possibly brush my teeth. I have been too busy playing with my sweet little miracle children.

**addendum added below**