This is the very last time I can plead that my life is insane because I am the mother of 'two under two.' In just a few short hours, I will commence to mothering an 8-month-old and a two-year-old.
This is not to say my life will suddenly be not-insane.
Next, we will turn car seats around, start considering a toddler bed, and learn to master the art of managing a full-on public tantrum.
This past weekend, we hosted nearly fifty moms, dads, grandparents, aunts, friends, toddlers, and infants for a blissfully chaotic BBQ, honoring the fact that time has ruthlessly kicked another year at us--during which, time simultaneously stood completely still and also raced by like it stole somethin.
Presently, I am sitting here dumbfounded and wondering why five seconds ago, I was just starting college and my biggest worry was how I could get my hands on cheap beer and also make it to class on time. Then I take out a calculator and discover that it hasn't been five seconds. In actuality, it's been over 13 years and I have a nest of gray hair and handful of crow's feet to prove it.
If the past 13 years is any indication, I am totally screwed.
This means that in five seconds, I will be parenting a 15-year-old (and 13-year-old) and frankly that scares the bejeezus out of me.
These past two years have been action-packed with challenges and triumphs. We have weathered a heart-defect scare, two premature deliveries, one week of hospital bed rest, a total of 8.5 weeks in the NICU, a meningitis hospitalization, and more trips to the pediatrician, ER, and pharmacy than our health insurance company can stomach without puking a little in it's mouth.
We've also seen both babies come home to us with no apparent long-term health concerns, watched them both meet milestones, been on the receiving end of smiles, hugs, and kisses, and fallen hopelessly head-over-heels in the meanwhile.
As I close this tiny snippet of a chapter on my life, I would like to think that I will take a minute or two to enjoy these tiny boys before they suddenly morph into smelly teenagers and then grown men.
After bedtime stories tonight, I just sat and held my little boy close to me. He snuggled his head (uncharacteristically) against my chest and we rocked for awhile while I grappled with the fact that this time is fleeting. When I finally was able to tear myself away from the moment, I lifted him into his crib and whispered my goodnight mantra ('love you bunches and bunches and always and everywhere'). He then burrowed into his blankets, but not before rolling over and pressing his forehead onto the space between the slats of his crib to receive a kiss from his crazy mom.
We have no choice but to be a slave to the relentless march of time; but tonight I rebelled by stealing a moment that I will carry with me and treasure...even in five seconds when I am suddenly living with two teenage boys.