How to practice quiet time?

I’m really struggling with my 2 boys at the moment! They are 4 and 2 and are extremely loud and boisterous, constantly wrestling, hitting/ pushing and the youngest is now doing it when we’re out at toddler groups which is so embarrassing!

I think we need to practice some quiet time at home as they’re always on the go. Even bedtime is chaos and they’re now quiet and chilled until I’m almost shouting for them to get into bed 😞

Can anyone give me any advice on how you maybe have a quieter or chilled bedtime routine? Or if anyone does like ‘quiet time’ in the afternoon how you get them to participate in this??
Thank you!

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I have a 4 year old and a 20 month old. They're girls and don't wrestle/hit/push, but do wind each other up to get very loud and hyper and stop listening.
It's hard at these ages as quiet time for each is quite different, and hard when there's only one of you. At bedtime, we have to take one each and read stories separately to keep them calm - I find one on one time really helps, but not always possible I know. They often get bored quickly when I'm not engaging with them in specific activities (or find it hard to share for long enough to play together), so hard to get them calm together. Depends on my 4 year olds mood! Unless TV on for the older one and can do an activity / puzzle with the younger.
Not sure if it's helpful, but some of my similar thoughts/ ramblings!

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Mother

The house is quiet.
Finally, a moment to myself.
I sit on the couch, expressing milk for his next feed.
Time circles my mind.
Do I have enough time to write this?
Should I sleep instead?
It’s getting late.
I should be grateful.
I should be present.
I should… I should.
The guilt.
The intrusive thoughts.
The disconnection from self.
The robotic washing of bottles, clothes, and dishes.
Then the question returns.
Do I have enough time for me?
What me?
Who am I?
Where am I?
I miss her.
I miss me.
Who have I become?
I have become a mother.
I am everything to this little human who will one day call me mum.
His life depends on me with every waking moment.
I give.
And I give.
Then he smiles.
And suddenly I see him
the little human I have nourished with tired eyes,
with time,
with love stretched beyond capacity.
Sometimes I leave to rest.
To breathe.
But even then my mind returns home.
I should be there.
I should be caring for my baby.
Is this normal?
Am I normal?
I feel myself unbecoming the woman I once knew so well.
They say this time is sacred.
And it is.
But it goes fast.
Maybe because we are not fully here in these early days.
We are surviving.
Living on autopilot.
Days blur together.
Until suddenly he shows me something new —
a smile,
a look,
a tiny trick he has learned.
And that moment is priceless.
His beautiful smile.
His big, beautiful eyes.
He is beginning his life
as I share mine
to keep him thriving.
A sacred sacrifice.
A whirlwind.
A shift in reality.
Who am I?
I am mother.

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18

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I sent one message about finding a babysitter for my kid, and she messaged me privately with a very backhanded comment that I should not discuss anything regarding my son because her husband’s friends do not give a shit ….. as if I am supposed to cater to their interests…. This is my cousin by the way, she only has me, and her sister for family at her wedding the rest are his family and friends.

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