Mind Vomit

Some days I feel like I'm a child playing make-believe.

I go through our routines every single day. I play with my children, care for them, bathe them, change them, dress them, feed them, put them to bed, wake them from sleeping, kiss their "owies", and punish when necessary. For some reason, it doesn't seem real 90% of the time.

Most days, I don't really believe I have children, and then there are the other days. The days where reality comes crashing down around me. Now, don't take that the wrong way. This sudden crash of reality does not incite me to proclaim, "What have I done?!" On the contrary, it evokes a feeling of complacency. Everything around me settles and I know I'm okay, we're okay.

The strangest of these "realizations" is what leads to them. This time around, it was socks. Yes, socks. All of the boys have hit growth spurts and have thus outgrown their socks. When we were at the store at the weekend, I purchased three packages of little socks. Three. Three packs. Three boys. All mine. I don't know why it effected me, but it did.

With the reality of truly having children, also came the reality of how fast they are growing. Again, it was the socks. This time around, I had to go to the little boys section instead of the infant/toddler department to purchase Hayden's socks. That was devastating.

Today, as he climbed on our bed for bit of exercise (or jumping, however you look at those things ;) ) I really got to looking at him. He's so tall! I look at him from behind and argue with myself over what I'm seeing. It seems impossible that he is only 2.5 judging by his size, and yet it seems impossible the he is already 2.5 judging by the feeling that he was born just a few days ago. Watching him in his day by day transformation is unreal. Today, as I studied his face, I realized that nearly all traces of "baby" have left him. I love watching him grow and it is so fun to help him learn new things, but my heart aches at how fast time has moved.

Today, the twins are 8 months old. I am sitting here wondering how that is possible. It just doesn't seem feasible that that much time has past since we welcome our new, tiny, precious additions to our family. It has been such a roller-coaster of emotions and I feel like it's all gone too fast. There were so many days that all I could was pray to make it to the next, pray for a small stretch of sleep, pray for a small break from the crying. Today, I find myself wanting to makea deal. I would go back and struggle through all of our bad days, just to have more time with my babies as babies.

Physically, I feel the full weight of those eight months. I'm exhausted and I look like crap. My hips have yet to recover from the brutal beating they took at the hands of twin-pregnancy and we won't even begin to discuss the awful "twin skin". Michael informed me yesterday that my new "style" makes me appear that I am always on my way to a softball game. It seems I've taken up the easy attire formally known as "jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes". I guess the fact that my hair is never down doesn't work to my advantage either. I could take the time out of my day to style my hair and press my more feminine clothes to make them fit to wear, but that would take away from my already "limited" (yes, I know it's not truly limited, but I feel that it is) time with my boys.

I'm terrified of my babies growing up. I absolutely dread having to let them loose in this world and the fact that I won't always be able to protect them from it. As I read Hayden his bedtime story, I became wistful. The story was telling children that even though they are scared of the dark, of what may be in the dark, the animals in the wilderness, that there is really nothing to fear of the night. I wish with all of my being that those scenerios were true and pausable. I wish that I could make all of the bad in this world disappear.

It makes my head reel to think that the biggest dangers in our world, the biggest threats to my precious babies, were once regarded as other mothers' precious babies. I worry about my children growing up and falling victim to one of those other former-babies turned monsters and part of me wonders if those mothers feared the same as I do, or if they feared, if they'd known, that their babies would become the world's bad dreams?

I feel that I've come to the point in life where you stop seeing things and people as you feel they should be and begin seeing them for what and who they are truly are. In the grand scheme of things, I'm a new mother, not to mention just emerging from teenage years. I've been an "adult" just barely longer than I've been a mother and I'll be the first to admit I've much to learn about life.

I wonder if I am too young to really grasp the world and my surroundings in the way that others do, or if I'll always see them differently. Will my views and opinions on things soften and change as I age? Or will I always be stubborn and headstrong? I wonder if my self-assurance isn't fading with my youth or if maybe my new found fears and insecurities are merely the result of my wisening up.

It seems my head was a bit full this evening. For now, I'll leave the thought process alone and simply say good night.