Tired

I'm tired.
Tired of pumping my titties like a cow.
Tired of the never ending laundry.
Tired of the crying, the mutiny that occurs when it is time for a feeding or sleep.
Tired of never being able to just sleep until I wake up.  Without earplugs.
Tired of never being able to finish a cup of coffee or a meal while it is still hot.  Or even while sitting down.
Tired of hearing that damn purple toy elephant play that same damn song over and over.
Tired of doing Google searches for "twin sleep training" and "infant stroke"
Tired of reading books about what my babies should be doing and then wondering if I'm being a good parent.
Tired of being a bitch to my husband - I mean a huge bitch - even though I know I'm doing it, but the nuances of decent human interaction have escaped me.
Tired of never talking to my friends.  Never even wanting to call them back because all I really have to say is how tired I am.
Tired of washing bottles and breast pump parts and little tiny spoons and bowls.
Tired of feeling old when I have to hoist myself up off of the floor 20 times a day.
Tired of hearing one of my daughters take a huge dump through the baby monitor as I am drifting off to sleep, knowing it will be waiting for me when I wake up.
Tired of wearing this saggy nursing bra that barely holds up my giant boobs.
Tired of stubbing my toe on bouncy seats and swings and jumparoos because our house is too teeny tiny for two babies.

I AM SO FUCKING TIRED.

I know, it's such a cliche: a tired mother of infant twins!
Go ahead and judge, Universe.  I'm too exhausted to care.