So, that first blog post after you haven’t written in a while? Sort of like running into a friend whose phone call you never returned…little awkward…not sure where to start or what to say, but every time you try, it doesn’t quite feel natural.
But here goes…
I don’t really have any reason other than the fact that I have twins. That says it all really, doesn’t it? That’s enough?
But here I am, 10 months after my last post about the great nap dilemma (which we actually resolved pretty easily by splitting them up). That dilemma seems like a lifetime ago, and we’ve had a million other dilemmas to solve since.
So much of me laments that I wasn’t able to blog about all of these experiences with my boys. So many times I thought, “Oh, this would be a great story for my blog!” But that’s as far as it got. I wish I had had it together enough to document all of this, but, on most days, I was just trying to be present with my boys and get us all to bedtime in one piece (them) and sane (me).
It has been quite a ride – lightning speed, it feels like. And there are so many different phases that, just when I think I’ve got a handle on this twin-mom-thing, they are out of that phase and into the next. They started walking at 13 months (James on a Sunday, Michael on Monday), and I haven’t caught my breath since. Not only are they running (literally) non-stop, so am I. By the time we give them their baths and put them to bed, I am done. I mean, done. Collapse-on-the-couch-and-fall-asleep-by-8:30-done. Some days it is such a satisfying done – that feeling when you’re exhausted because you’ve worked so hard and gave it everything you had. And some days it’s just plain exhaustion.
The boys are almost 20 months now, and goodness, they are all boy. Non-stop energy from morning until night. My house is a den of wildness, but can I tell you? Hearing them laugh and scream and watching them run laps around the house does my heart so much good. It is the best sound in the world. I still haven’t forgotten the quiet house I would come home to while struggling with infertility.
I feel like I live in chaos on most days and I just can’t keep up, but I’m learning to cherish it. Picking up toys all over the floor in every room. Sweeping up food under the table countless times a day. Rearranging the furniture in my bedroom every day so Michael can nap in there. Climbing over babygates and rigging everything else to keep it opened/closed/baby-proofed. Watching them pull out every.single.toy and book as soon as I put them away. For a person that doesn’t function well in disarray, it can be challenging. But I’m learning to embrace it. I’m daily and pointedly aware that every day I spend with them is one day less they will be my little boys.
I think the most bittersweet part about where we are now is that they really are out of the baby-stage and into the little-boy-stage. I LOVE watching them discover the world and learn every new skill. It is so fun to watch them figure out how to put the letters on the alphabet train or learn to build a block tower or put the wooden pig and cow and goat in the right places in the puzzle. I love hearing James go, ‘Brmmm, brmmm’ as he drives his car around the house (and on my head). I love watching Michael sit on the floor, flipping through his peekaboo books, pointing to the pictures and pretending to read.
But everything they are learning to do is a another step away from being my babies. Every milestone we reach is time I never get back.
Every night when we put them to bed, I put my hands on each of them to settle them and pray over them. And as I’m praying for them, it hits me every night how thankful to God I am for these boys. Even on our hard days, my heart aches with the love I feel for them. They are happy, silly, good-natured, and funny. I mean, funny. Every night when I pray, I remember again, even if it was a hard day, what amazing little guys they are.
It makes me sad that I know that they won’t remember any of these moments we have together: these moments that I love and enjoy so much, these moments where mommy and her boys are chasing each other around the house, making up silly songs about Mr. Peanut Butter and Mr. Cheerio, randomly hitting on something that makes us all laugh, like our own private inside jokes.
But I’ll remember it. Every day, I’m doing my best to imprint these memories on my mind. I know there’s not enough space in my brain to remember it all, to capture each detail forever. But I’ll never forget the feeling of it.
How It feels when James grabs my head, smooshes his forehead against mine and bites my face, trying to give me a kiss. How It feels when Michael comes behind me when I’m sitting on the floor and rests against my back. How It feels reaching back and holding James’ hand in the carseat while I drive. How It feels when Michael pushes his book at me and then backs in to plop in my lap so we can read together.
All of these moments that are moving my boys away from being my babies, on to being my little boys. But deep down, I know, as big as they get, they will always be my babies.
Yeah, so, that’s why I haven’t been blogging about my boys. We’ve been busy living.
(But here are some pics to fill in the gaps.)