So go grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy the story!
From the minute they came into this world, I’ve been on a mission to enjoy as many small moments as possible.
The cooing, the smiles, the laughter, the hugs, the big wet kisses…the list goes on.
Some days I document like crazy, silently reprimanding myself when I fail to capture the perfect hug, the perfect jump, or the perfect moment of quiet play.
Most days I leave the electronics behind, immersing myself in the play and art so that I don’t miss a beat. These days I take screen shots in my mind, because I don’t want my only memories to include me behind the camera.
I want to actually be in the memories, not on the outside looking in.
Always, I watch them sleep.
Maybe it was the infertility. Maybe it’s just in my DNA. Whatever it is, I struggle to let go.
By day I watch them grow in leaps in bounds. I cheer for every milestone, and encourage each new adventure, even if I cry a little bit on the inside.
I feel the baby days slipping away right before my very eyes. I am powerless to make it stop.
I listen carefully as my five year old creates complex and fascinating stories just because she can.
I watch in awe as my three year old learns to write his name, put on his own clothes, and create his own buildings. Help is no longer required.
I know, in my heart, that I am still needed. I am, without a doubt, the first person they want to see in the morning and the last person they want to see as they finally rest their eyes.
I will always be needed.
But I see the shift happening. I see the baby-ness starting to fade and the big kid-ish-ness taking over. I see complicated art projects, beautiful handwriting, and athletic skills beginning to emerge. I see individuals emerging and strong opinions being voiced.
It both fills and breaks my heart at the exact same time.
And so, I watch them sleep.
There, wrapped and snuggled and sighing in their sleep, they seem smaller somehow. Despite their length, they remain little, cozy, and hang on to just a little bit of that baby-ness.
There, I can breathe them in, stroke their beautiful hair, and shed just a few tears as I work my way out of the baby days and into the world of big kids.
Just as soon as I’m ready…
I should have mentioned you would need tissues! Beautiful, isn’t it? And I agree that in their sleep they do seem smaller, and it is then that I greedily kiss them and hug them without them trying to push away.
There’s no manual out there for what we do, so sharing stories like this helps us all learn from each other.
Now head over to Clomid & Cabernet and say hello to Katie. If you are a Twitter addict, you can find her there, and on Facebook, and Pinterest, too! And if you are a new follower, make sure to tell her that I sent you!
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