- When J was a baby, my MIL used to come over once a week. She would arrive at noon, stretch out with a book on my couch when J would go down for a nap ("Oh, why don't you go lay down and take a nap, too?"), and stay until 8:00pm. Every fucking week until I flipped my shit. Seriously.
- About six months after weaning J, I got pregnant with T. See above. MIL continued her weekly "pretend to be mommy" visits until J transitioned from the crib into a toddler bed and started MDO.
- When J was two and a half, T joined us. I then took care of two little boys by myself all day, with little opportunity for a break. J went to preschool at age three, but that was for a total of five hours a week.
- At this time, I seem to recall visiting the ILs with some regularity. I don't dislike them at all, but their house is not baby-friendly, and they are selfish in the sense that they don't think about how their environment affects other people, specifically their grandchildren. So I would spend each visit trailing after the boys, making sure they didn't break anything while the Hubster and his parents would have a nice leisurely visit.
- Right after weaning T, I got pregnant again. My OB thought it might be twins. Sadly, the pregnancy was a blighted ovum, for which I needed a D&C.
- Two months after that, I got pregnant with S. Anyone with three kids will tell you that the third one throws you completely for a loop. They are absolutely correct.
- Fortunately, at this time, my parents moved nearby. I cannot stress enough how their arrival has significantly impacted my moods and mental health for the better.
(I apologize for the cranky, snarky attitude. I blame it on the yeast die-off resulting from my current anti-Candida diet).
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