What Hasn't Killed Us...

So I got permission from Charlie to write about us. It's not technically about motherhood, but I think a big part of being a good parent is maintaining a strong relationship with your co-parent.
I've always heard people say, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger". I don't buy that. I think the saying should be, "What doesn't kill you might make you stronger, if handled properly. If not, it will permanently scar you or render you physically or emotionally disabled". It's not as catchy, but it has a ring of truth to it.
I think the same logic applies to relationships. Everyone knows a couple who have been together for 40 years and people say how wonderful it is, when, in fact, it would have been better for everyone involved if they had split up 39 years ago. Any two unhealthy people can cling to each other year after year, but that's not what I'm looking for and it's not what I want my kids to live with. I want a healthy relationship, full of love and honesty and good will. I'm no expert, but I think denial and resentment have brought down many marriages. Charlie and I try to be realistic, to state our needs and to talk through conflicts like adults. This strategy worked wonderfully for us during the first 4 years of our relationship. We just had his kids, who lived with us, but went to their mom's house every other weekend. Also, they could feed and clothe themselves (which I am now able to see is a much bigger chore than I have ever given it credit for). Anytime we had an issue- and with two step kids and an ex wife, plus my personal baggage, we had issues- we would sit down and talk about it. We talked about feelings and needs...sometimes we cried and got mad, but we usually ended up on the same page and we moved on. We NEVER yelled at each other, called names, or took low blows. We agreed that "fighting" respectfully was the way to go, and we stuck to it. That was before we started fighting at 3 am.

The first time I remember us having an issue, (and I don't remember what it was), the babies had been home for a week. I remember Charlie was sitting in the rocking chair, in the middle of the night, with a baby and I threw a blanket on the floor at his feet and told him to, "Stop acting like a 5 year old". Technically, I wasn't yelling...I was more yell-whispering, but outside of that, it broke all the fighting rules. After that, we fought a lot. We were so tired, so sleep deprived and so overwhelmed, that frustration was just below the surface all the time. We fought about who was doing more, who was doing less, who was sleeping more and who wasn't doing what they were supposed to with the babies (there was a particularly ugly incident around why Charlie couldn't remember to use the diaper cream at night. It ended with him yelling, "They don't have diaper rash! I will USE it when they NEED it" and me yelling back, "OH MY GOD! It's a PREVENTATIVE!!!!"). I started talking to my friends and discovered that most of them had similar experiences. Of course, I wasn't always frustrated with Charlie. I was frustrated because everything I thought I knew and loved about my life was different. I no longer got to take 20 minute showers or sleep, uninterrupted for more than 3 hours. I got got sick and there was no resting and recuperating for me, because the babies were sick and they needed care. No more evening wine on the back deck- I hadn't even seen my back deck since the babies were born. My beloved Kindle reader accumulated dust and served as a coaster for bottles on my nightstand. The accumulated loss of my little life pleasures and whatever control I had over my own life resulted in unexpected rage. That anger, in addition to the natural renegotiation of new responsibilities and sleep deprivation was enough to cause us both to boil over. I wasn't mad at the babies, because they were little and beautiful. I wasn't even always mad at Charlie, but he was the nearest adult target. The truth is, there's no talking through sleep deprivation, and there's no way to prepare yourself for the overnight added responsibilities that twins bring.
There is, of course, a gender piece to this- my life changed more than anyone else's in our family when the twins were born. We work hard to have equality in our marriage, but at the end of one weekend soon after the babies were born, I realized I hadn't left the house since Friday. Charlie had done some yard work, gone to to some local stores to pick up some things he needed, and had taken the older kids to their music lessons and friend activities. I had cared for the babies. In short, everyone else had gone about their weekend, in large part as if nothing had changed, except for me. My role, my only role, was apparently now mother. As soon as I pointed out the problem with this, Charlie agreed that it was appalling and we made adjustments, but we do still find ourselves struggling with long held societal beliefs about what we each can and should do that have become second nature, in spite of a conscious effort on my part to avoid them.
We are working through things. We enjoy each other more, and life is getting easier as the babies are less labor intensive. I have read a couple of good books recently, and we sleep through the night at least once a week. We laugh at each other and joke again. Slowly, the twins are becoming a big part of our lives as opposed to the only part of our lives that gets attention. Given our past relationships and experiences, I have no right to think so, but I believe we'll be just fine, and maybe stronger for the twin experience. Charlie said it best and sweetest- I was standing in front of the open fridge, looking woefully at a bottle of wine I bought on a whim on a sunny Friday afternoon three weeks past. "We can sit out back after babies go to bed and chat about our week and have a glass", I'd thought at the time. Unfortunately, we are usually very tired by the time babies go to bed, and alcohol is the last thing we want slowing our response time, so it sat unopened. "I don't know why I bothered buying that bottle of wine", I now said. "Because you're a optimist", said Charlie with a kiss and a smile. I'm shocked to discover that he's right.