This post was heavily inspired by Kellie from The Good, The Bad and the Unnecessary and her post: If I met me now, I wouldn’t know me
|October 2010 – The boys were 4.5 months old.
My sons (it still feels very weird to plural the word) are 16 months old today. I don’t feel spun out by it. I’m not surprised. Of course it’s gone fast. Speed of light, possibly even time travel fast. But I don’t feel like I’ve lost any of that time. Only that I could have spent more time alive in it.
I’m more sentimental about 16 months than I was Fraser and Oscar’s 1st birthday. Or even their 1st corrected.
When I was pregnant with them, and they endlessly kicked and danced and bounced off one another, I would lie on the couch and watch Rory play. Or sit with her and read or talk or just be. And the time I remember the most is the two months before the boys were born. It’s like my brain has stamped that time on my skin.
It was the last of the quiet.
It was stressful. Pal had left. There were numerous appointments, scans, check ups, needles, tests, visits with friends.
But it was quiet.
And I was acutely aware that I would never be getting this quiet time back.
I had two babies arriving. Roo would grow and run and talk and blaze. And she has. More than I ever expected, that child has developed her personality and made her mark on the world, already. No one will ever dismiss Rory. She won’t allow it.
|Roo at 16 months old, just a few weeks before the twins’ arrival
And so, that last month of quiet, Roo was 16 months old. It was peaceful, it was joyful and it was so precious. I wish I could bottle that time and show it to her when she is older. Explain to her that though she may not remember, she and I had that time. We had each other and the whole world revolved around us as the air got colder and the wind got wilder and the tension built and Winter was all of a sudden upon us.
And now, my twin sons (still weird) are 16 months old. It is not quiet. It is not peaceful. But there is no tension building, no wind of change and the days are getting warmer rather than colder. Summer is coming.
And I feel that I am here, in this life, living it, playing in it, crying at it, like I was then. Because in between the then and now, I feel like I coped on the sidelines and watched the world happen – doing what needed to be done.
Oh, I loved, I laughed, I cried. I lived. But I wasn’t living IN it. I was living in some far off land called Copetown, off the coast of Survivalville and probably very close to Lost In Space.
|Fraser & Oscar, 6 months old.
I feel immersed in my life, now. I feel like I’m a very active member of it. I feel like I have come up for air, exhaled and found that I like the fresh breeze enough to stay.
I am losing weight, I am laughing more (yes, it’s possible), I am able to walk with my children, every day if I wish, and I feel connected, wired into my world. I am socialising, I am walking, I am talking, I am blogging, I am studying and I am washing.
I will always be washing.
Benjamin Franklin got it wrong.
Nothing is certain but Death and Taxes. And Washing.
There will always be ups and downs. It won’t always be closer to Summer than Winter. And there most definitely won’t always be bluebirds on my shoulder. But at least I’m here, feeling it, meaning it, wanting it. This life I’ve been given. These children I’ve been blessed to give the world. These children who have hung the moon, yet exhaust me, emotionally and physically. Mentally drain me.
I think the point is to have good drainage. Don’t you?