Parenting
The Daily Fight by Jamie Collins
Originally Published: January 25, 2014
In our bed, there’s a chaotic mix of two parents, two kids, and two dogs, all sprawled across the sheets. Only a sliver of the comforter covers me, and it’s irritatingly poking my face. I awkwardly twist my body, cocooned in sheets, to check the time: 6:18 AM. Might as well rise and shine.
But as I gaze at the twins nestled between my partner and me, I can’t help but stare. They’re rarely this peaceful. When did they grow into such lanky kids? Their closed eyes still reveal hints of their baby faces, reminiscent of their days swaddled in burrito-blankets. My heart swells with love.
Then, they wake up.
And the daily battle begins.
Each morning, there’s usually a skirmish over getting dressed. Today, one twin insists on tossing her pajamas into the dirty laundry, while I’d prefer to save them for tonight. She cries and screams; I have to enforce a time-out while she’s completely naked. I feel like a terrible mom.
The twins shove their younger sibling as soon as she enters their room, prompting more tears. I attempt to console her while scolding the twins, but they refuse to apologize. One of them bolts away, slips on the hardwood, and bangs her head. Now there are three crying children.
Everyone is either upset or crying, and I’ve only been awake for 20 minutes. I feel like a terrible mother.
After breakfast, they start whining about wanting to watch TV. It’s a beautiful day outside, and I’m eager to get them playing outdoors. As I clean the kitchen, I say “no” to the TV. One child dramatically declares, “Well, I’ll just sit on the couch and wait for Daniel Tiger FOREVER!!!”
I threaten time-out and an end to TV privileges, but the twins are too busy bickering with each other to pay me any mind. They argue over whether Olaf or Kristoff is the favorite Frozen character of the youngest. When she chimes in with, “I love Sven!” they shout, “No you DON’T!” and she bursts into tears.
They’re rude to each other and disrespectful to me. I feel like a terrible mother.
They fight me about going outside, coming back inside, lunchtime, naptime, and, of course, dinnertime. Why does everything have to be a battle? Can’t I just complete one task smoothly from start to finish?
Conflict makes me squirm; it fills me with anxiety. Before kids, I avoided it like the plague. But now, as a parent, I have no choice. I refuse to be the kind of mom who can’t say “no.” So, I’m constantly embroiled in conflict.
It’s wearing me down.
The bedtime struggle is often the worst part of the day. They resist going upstairs, refuse to be the first to pee, want mismatched pajamas, and insist on carrying their toothbrushes while I read the longest book in our collection back to them—twice. Because, you know, twins.
Yet, at 10 PM, when they should be fast asleep but are still wide awake, they ask to snuggle in Mommy and Daddy’s bed. I agree. It may not be the most comfortable arrangement or conducive to romance, but I cherish these moments. They won’t be little forever, and soon enough, they won’t want to cuddle with us anymore.
The struggle is draining, but when I offer half my pillow to my little girl and she whispers, “I love you,” there’s nothing left to fight about. I know the cycle will begin again tomorrow, and just thinking about it makes my body ache. But for now, the house is quiet. The girls are calm, smelling of strawberry shampoo, and my heart is full.
I feel like a good mother. At least until they wake up.
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Summary:
The daily battle of parenting is a whirlwind of chaos and love, filled with conflicts over simple tasks like getting dressed or going outside. Despite moments of frustration, the quiet times shared with children remind parents of their deep love and the fleeting nature of childhood.
Keyphrase: Parenting struggles
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