Life's Too Short

Just before the twins were born, I was scrambling to make arrangements to find any extra help I could to get through the first  6 - 12 weeks.  If you've ever had a baby, you know what I'm talking about.  If you haven't, then just wait.  Based on my experience with Jameson, I knew it was going to be hard, but I had NO IDEA what to expect with twins.  I did know for certain though that our household chores would be the first to suffer.

I like to be self-sufficient, and I do not like to ask for help even when I really need it.  At first, this time was no exception.  My mom's constant nagging about getting help finally made me cave.  I came to the realization that I should get help for the sake of my sanity.  She did her part by planning to have one of my aunts in town for the first two weeks.  My mom, as always, planned to be around as much as possible, but I think she did not want the stress of feeling like she had to shoulder this burden by herself.

My father's secretary (Maria), who has grown to become more of a family friend, volunteered herself and offered to bring her niece Rosita from Mexico to help (and study English).  At first, I wondered if maybe I had too much help.  I have since learned that it's not possible to have too much help when it comes to children.

The first few weeks after the twins were born seemed so much easier than they were following Jameson's birth because I had so much help during the day.  After the first two weeks, my aunt went home, and I felt the loss of an extra set of hands.  In the months that followed, Rosita helped us at home with cleaning and laundry.  Rosita went home in April, and I crossed my fingers that we would keep the house as clean and orderly as she had.

I have not, but I don't care anymore.  It's clean enough.  Even better, Maria now volunteers to come out and help me every weekend.  I insist that she take some money, but she would do it for free.  She shows up every Saturday morning, vacuums the entire house, mops the floors, cleans the bathrooms, dusts, washes dishes, straightens up, and does anything else that needs attention.  When she leaves I love to walk through the house and just feel relieved that the house is clean (and I had nothing to do with it).

I used to feel good about trying to do it all ourselves.  Yet, in hindsight, I now realize that I was giving up family time for cleaning time.  Paying for a clean house seems like a small price to pay for more time with James & the kids.  This Saturday we went shopping and came home to a clean house.  God bless Maria. . . and my mom for making me realize that it's okay to lose the pride and take the help.