Hopefully this post won’t require an apology to my two children when they’re older. And I’m pretty darn positively sure I will only have two. We took care of what we can to make sure. Ya know? Thanks babe! You’re a gem. A true keeper.

As much as I love pregnancy, birth and babies, I’m at my limit. By limit, I mean the place where I can still meet their basic needs and then on some days just a wee bit more.

I walk. I bounce. I babywear. I breastfeed. I do all those things people say will keep a contented baby, but she still.wants.more. More wearing. More bouncing. More mommy and NOBODY else.

Please don’t take this as a complaint. I’m just saying, this is hard. Hard. Hard. Hard. And before those nuggets of advice start falling out of your butt, please hold up a second: Just because I’m complaining venting doesn’t mean I think I should change-up my parenting plan. I’m doing in my heart what I think is right for her. For me. For the toddler.

There are times too when she’s needy for my arms and so is he. What do I do? Carry them both.

Why?

It just seems like that’s what they need at the moment. Sure, occasionally, I can get by with making the toddler walk, or letting the baby fuss a bit before she blows a gasket. But overall, I just think that two human beings who are seriously brand new to earth are just… needy needy needy.

Nobody ever told me how drained I’d feel day in and day out. People tout babies sleeping through the night. Guess what, my first does, my second doesn’t. And I’m not so sure that it’s my parenting that’s wrong or that my infant is defective. I kinda think that’s just the way she is. And I’m not going to “train” her to NOT depend on me to respond. She’ll get there, eventually. The day will come when she falls asleep on her own. The day will come when the toddler recoils in disgust if I try kissing him or holding him in public. So, as much as I wish both of them had an off button I could use when I need to, I give what I can knowing this too shall pass.

They won’t be little forever. Responding to them now lays the ground work, in my mind, for emotions and brains that say to them, “you aren’t alone in this world. It’s not solely up to you to survive. You’re loved.”

I’m tired. I’m ready to quit on many days lately.

But those tiny hands.

Those big blue eyes.

Those precious smiles say, “don’t. We need you. We want you.”

So I suck it up.And keep going.

One day, it will be just me again. And I’ll look back, not in regret that I didn’t hold or play with them more. I’ll look back, with my achy back and tired mind knowing I gave it my all.

Chances are, this post will fall into the dusty archives like all the rest, and won’t get much more than some faithful friend responses and a few nosy glances. So, I hope I don’t have to tell them I’m sorry that I put it out there for people to know, man, I don’t always FEEL like doing this mommy thing. Even when it looks like I’m super mom with a cape and two kids hanging from my rails.