The Daily Struggle of Parenting

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In my home, mornings start with a chaotic scene: two adults, two children, and two dogs all occupying the same bed. The comforter barely covers me, and it’s poking me uncomfortably in the face. I twist my sheet-wrapped body to check the time—6:18 AM. I might as well start the day.

But as I glance over at the sleeping twins nestled between my partner and me, an overwhelming urge to just watch them washes over me. They rarely stay still like this, and I can’t help but admire how they’ve grown into such tall, lanky kids. Their closed eyes remind me of their baby faces, evoking memories of them bundled up in their cozy swaddles. My heart swells with love.

Then, suddenly, they wake up.

And thus begins the daily battle.

Each morning presents a new challenge, often revolving around getting dressed. Today, one of them insists on putting her pajamas in the laundry, while I want to save them for another night. This leads to tears and a loud protest. I find myself putting her in a time-out while she’s completely naked, and I can’t shake the feeling of inadequacy as a mother.

As the twins push their little sister the moment she steps into their room, tears flow again. I’m caught in the middle, trying to comfort the 2-year-old while also disciplining the twins, who refuse to apologize. One of them takes off and slips on the hardwood floor, resulting in another wave of crying.

In just 20 minutes, it seems everyone is upset or upset, and I feel like I’m failing as a mother.

After breakfast, the whining kicks in about wanting to watch TV. The day is beautiful outside, and I’m determined to get them playing outdoors instead. While I clean up the kitchen, I say “no” to the television. One twin shouts, “Then I’ll wait on the couch for Daniel Tiger FOREVER!!!”

I threaten time-outs and a ban on TV, but the twins are too engrossed in a debate over their favorite Frozen characters to even hear me. When the 2-year-old chimes in with, “I love Sven!” they yell back at her, causing her to cry yet again.

Their lack of kindness towards each other and disrespect towards me is disheartening. I feel like a terrible mom.

They resist going outside, coming back inside, during lunch, naptime, and, of course, dinner. Why does every simple task turn into a struggle? Why can’t I manage to complete one thing smoothly from start to finish?

Conflict makes me anxious. Before I became a parent, I avoided it at all costs. Now, saying “no” is crucial, and it brings a constant stream of conflict that wears me down.

The bedtime battle, after a long day, typically feels the most exhausting. They balk at going upstairs, argue over who uses the bathroom first, and insist on different pajamas. Somehow, they also want to run around with a toothbrush and read the longest book we own—twice.

Yet, at 10 PM, when they should be asleep but still ask to snuggle in bed with me and my partner, I can’t refuse. While it’s not the most comfortable arrangement, I cherish these moments. They won’t always be little, and soon enough, they’ll outgrow these snuggles.

The struggle is draining, but when I share half of my pillow with my little girl and she whispers that she loves me, all the fighting fades away. I know tomorrow will bring the same challenges. Just thinking about it makes my body ache. But for now, the house is peaceful. The girls are quiet, 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

Parenting is often a tumultuous journey filled with constant battles over simple tasks, leading to feelings of frustration and inadequacy. Despite the chaos, moments of love and connection remind parents that their children won’t always be small, making the struggles worthwhile.


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