The pit

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine commented that I sounded really good on my blog - that maybe I was even getting a hang of this three kid thing. Well, I've been wondering that too. My disposition has been much better. I've felt much less depressed about my situation, have felt like swearing at my kids less (only in my head, of course) and have actually been having a good time with the kids.

Then it hit me. Oh no. This has nothing to do with me. I am totally getting a false sense of security. Ryan is currently on a night-float system. That means he works three nights and three days a week. Yes, he is totally out of whack. But yes - it's great for me. I've realized that my sanity has come from actually having another adult presence (albeit unconscious most of the time) for at least a couple days during the week. Since nap times continue to be the bain of my association with the twins, I tell Ryan that if he's going to be asleep, he can at least make himself useful and tuck a baby under his arm to sleep with. That seems to be where all my angst stems from - constantly battling naps with these two. It's like playing whack-a-mole - one's up, one's down, the other one's up, then down again...

So anyway, there's this pit in the bottom of my stomach reminding me that next week the night shifts are over. Then it's back to no husband. All day alone with the kids and maybe if we're lucky he'll get here to say goodnight as they're going to bed.

So I'm bracing myself. And preparing to bid farewell again to my sanity.