I’m sitting, fully clothed, in my bathtub. Weird, right? That’s okay, weird’s my thing. It’s always been my thing, but I’m super weird now that I’ve become a mom. For starters my social skills are going way down; my only friends I see on a constant basis being my neighbor who probably is secretly annoyed with me since she’s my google to all child related questions, and my dogs, who think I’ve disowned them. My vocabulary is vastly diminishing after repeating the same, “that’s a lot of pee-pee!” or “it’s okay baby, where’s your Wubanub, let’s try some tummy time.” But those things are beside the point, I bet you’re dying to know why I’m sitting fully clothed in my bathtub (or you forgot that part already because I’m rambling, sorry).

You see, 5 months in… I have great night sleepers. My girls sleep 10+ hours a night and more on the weekends. It’s quite wonderful, actually (I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve if anyone needs some tips) but what they don’t do is nap. Twins. Hard. Twins that don’t nap. Stop twisting my arm. Seriously, it sucks. They love to nap in the car! Go them! But not helpful for mommy. My husband comes home and not a damn thing has been done. Laundry sits wrinkled and sad in the dryer from days previous, dog hair blows across the hardwood floors like the big Dust Bowl, and our sheets haven’t been changed in forever which is particularly disgusting for me because I sleep on the side with spit up stains. Wonderful. So can you see why non-napping twins would just be horrific? I’m sitting in the bathtub because I so desperately want to take a bath. I hope that was obvious. But I can’t. Because I know the second I turn on the tap, wait 800 minutes to fill our ridiculous bathtub, and put a too expensive to waste LUSH bath bomb in, some alarm in one of my children’s head will go off and they will cry and look pitiful on the monitor and my solitude will be over.

Motherhood is a gamble. You win some, you lose some. It’s all about the risk, and right now, I’m not turning on the tap.