Sometimes my eyes swell with tears because I have the most beautiful babies God could have ever thought to give me. And sometimes my eyes shoot out hot tears because these two monkeys are driving me bananas!
I recently read something Anna Quindlen wrote about raising her kids and how quickly these precious, chubby years go by. She says, "I wish I had not been in a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less." And while it was beautifully written and poignantly phrased, it left me swirling with anxiety, guilt, anger, frustration, goopy love, snuggly softness, and teary wistfulness. Which basically sums up motherhood.
I barked at Jack today for being loud in McDonald's while we waited for our lunch. And I growled at him this morning for flicking the door stop again, making an awful noise. And I still am sad that I feel like I didn't really appreciate Sarah's babyness because all I can remember is the loooong, grumpy nights of walking and bouncing and begging her to sleep.
But also, a soft, sweet snuggly boy came and woke me up with kisses this morning. And a precious little girl snuggled into my chest as gave me kisses before I put her down for her nap. And they both made faces and swayed to the elevator music while we munched our chicken nuggets. Sarah pointed out her nose and belly to me and Jack sang his ABCs all the way home.
These babies are the most incredible thing to ever happen to me. I just have to take a deep breath and push away the frustration and the guilt and the anger, and make more room for the soft snuggles, the brilliant baby games, and the overflowing goopy love.