As I go through my day — I see you. I see your babies reaching for you. I know your toddlers probably just finished a tantrum. I know you are tired. I know you forget things even when they are written on your to-do list. I know you rarely go to the bathroom alone. I know there is never silence in your house.
I know you have so much you want to do, but can’t.
I know you miss your friends. I know you feel guilty that you can’t do it all. I know you may not have spoken to an adult today except the cashier at the grocery store. I know you feel bad that your other half often sees you at your worst at the end of the day. I know you curse when you step on the toys left out in your path. I know you watch more cartoons than news. I know some days you just want to cry. I know your house is always a mess.
I know you sometimes wonder what the hell you’re doing.
I also know this is one of the most special times of your life. I know you relish the hugs you get. I know you have the super power to kiss the tears away at least three times a day. I know you are amazed at the new things they are learning. I know you laugh every day because of something funny (or inappropriate) they have done. I know when you’re not with them you miss them.
I know you wouldn’t trade what you have — for anything.
I know you still take a deep breath and smile when they snuggle up against you. I know you don’t mind getting behind on work if it means an extra hour of exploring the incredible imagination they have when you are playing together. I know you make up silly songs and pretend to fall over (1,000 times) just to hear their pure laughter. I know when they tell you they love you…everything is perfect.
I know this because I’m there with you. I see you–and want to stop and talk–but I can’t. You see, I’m in the thick of it, too.
That term has echoed in my head from those friends I know with “older” kids. They see me chasing my two little ones through a store, running through town trying to get my workout by pushing an increasingly heavy double stroller, or chugging coffee to stay awake at 2 p.m.
Sometimes, they just see my tired eyes and know, because they have been there, too.
They say, “one day you’ll have your life back and it’s not too far away.” I know they are right. But I also I know I’ll miss these days when they are in my past, as I’m sure they do, too. The constant chattering, crying, playing, and laughing that fills the house. The amazing need they have for Mommy and Daddy each day.
What will we do when the house is quiet and they’re at school all day? When they don’t call our names every 3.2 seconds? When they go upstairs to play in their room together instead of asking to play hide-and-seek with us? Will we laugh, dance, cry, sleep– maybe all of the above?
Having babies and toddlers is something I never pictured. I knew I wanted a family, but I couldn’t grasp the reality of actually having my own children until they were here. Maybe some of you dreamed of it when you were kids yourself. Maybe some of you had to fight to become “Mom”. Maybe some of you were taken by surprise when you learned there was a baby on the way.
However it happened, once we hold our child in our arms, our life changes. And it’s OK if there are good times and bad times. And it’s OK for us to admit that and to share it with others who have been there.
So, today I’m not going to try and give you answers. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone. And I wanted to remind myself I’m not alone.
