I say it a lot, but I’m pretty sure it’s because it’s true: Mothering is not for the faint of heart.
The twins started daycare last week, and I’m not sure who’s handing it worse–them on me.
Louis did pretty well the first day, mostly distracted by the new toy phenomenon, but is completely horrified that I expect him to go back every other day. By the time I picked him up at the end of day two, he was a sniveling mess trying to tell me just how terrible it all was, by muttering “dah, dah, dah” for about five minutes straight. I really need to learn how to speak Louis.
August is doing OK. Well, he seems to be OK after I pry him off of me limb by limb. Usually he’s stopped screaming before I’ve walked out the building. He’s pretty good when I pick him up, though. I little crying, but totally happy once we’ve started heading for the car.
I watch them a lot on the closed circuit television channel the school has. It’s hard for me to understand how this is eventually going to improve their speech and social skills, but I’m trying to have faith in the process.
I really have no idea how working mothers do this. Hell, I don’t know how I’m doing it. Ever fiber in my being is screeching at me to SAVE THE BABIES.
So far, I have resisted, and have picked them up at the very reasonable hour of 3:30. They are making more sounds, so I guess that’s progress of a sort.
Like I said, not for the faint of heart.