Where is time going? Blurring by me. There is no pause button.
Somehow you get up, power-shower, make breakfast, snuggle babies, drink coffee, put eyeliner on, and get you and your husbands lunches ready. Somehow you just do it. Who is this woman? This mother, this wife?
You wake up….14 months after delivering your twins and the ill-conceived and poorly executed hair hacking that occurred postpartum has grown out. Your pants fit. You are looking at your husband with dreamy eyes again, not spears of death shooting out of them. Life is easing into a new pattern and like they say, you don’t remember what your life was like before you had children.
You start to remember SOME things. You think about moments of tenderness between you and your spouse. It was just you and him against the world. No one had loved in the way you loved each other since the dawn of mankind. What happened? What is different? Everything is different, and no, life will not be the carnival of “do what you want” that you had the luxury of living before you had children. This is your new reality. Ease into it like a pair of great yoga pants. Allow it to fit. Allow it to be.
You hear a noise in the middle of the night. You walk to the nursery and your son is standing up in his crib. You are thinking…Oh no, I am going to be up for at least an hour. You cross the room to him and he is smiling. He reaches out and says “Momma”. Suddenly you cry. The tears wont stop. These tears are happening far too often.
You love being a mother. You never thought it would be so natural for you.
You pick him up, change his diaper and sit down in the nursery with a bottle that he drinks too quickly and falls asleep far too fast afterwards. So, you sit in the chair under his far too quickly growing body. It is happening too fast. He eats too fast. He is running. He keeps growing out of his shoes. He is turning into a little boy. You lay him down in his crib. Then, behind you….”Momma?” Yes, your other angel is up. You repeat the steps… diaper, bottle, snuggle. You cry more. How will you keep her safe? How will you make sure she loves herself as she is? How do you keep her sheltered from bullies and away from cyber-scaries? It has been another hour. You lay her down.
You crawl back into bed, only an hour until you wake up to start your day, but your day has already started. Your day and your life are underway, and it all fits. It fits perfectly.