the one thing you hear about having twins,
or little ones that are close in age is that the first years are a blur.
things are very blurry around here these days. fuzzy around the edges.
a fast moving blur of bottles and baths and ponytails.
a loud mix of "MOMMY" and "I NEED YOU" and cries and laughter.
most days i can't tell you what day of the week it is. some days i can't tell you my name.
lots of days i don't get a shower. i have to write a post-it for anything i want to remember.
the counters are littered with lists, with to-dos. with good intentions.
and i feel like i'm missing it all.
i feel like i'm so caught up in getting through it, that i'm missing "it".
i don't want to look back one day and not remember anything about these days. these days are precious.
sure, some weeks i just pray for it to get to Friday. so j will be home and i will have adult conversations, a hand to hold, a pair of arms to help.
but sometimes i just sit here, still. a constant point with everything else whirling frantically around me.
shoes flying, girls screaming, laundry piling.
and i think "this is fleeting".
i just sit still, breathe it in (even if "it" means the spitup on my shoulder) and etch it in my mind.
one day it will be trips to the mall, first dates, and i'm too cool for my mother.
one day it will be wedding dresses, grandbabies, and my mom is my best friend.
and i want to remember these days of sticky juice spilled on the floor, sticky hands holding tight to me, sticky notes standing in for my brain.
i want to remember the way my babies smell. the way that silky baby hair feels. the way that it feels to be needed for everything.
to be the one that has the power to make it all better with just a kiss.
i want to remember those tiny voices piping up from the back seat. the broken crayons, the pink everywhere, the barbies scattered, the little tiny bodies snuggled up against my chest.
i want to remember.
xo
