You see, Mommy is a bit of a sap. I live in a constant state of panic about the two of you growing up. Daddy says I'm addicted to my babies. He's had to keep me from sitting on top of you, trying to squish you into floor to prevent you from growing up.
It's hard for me.
To watch you slip and slide into each new stage of your lives is beyond bittersweet. I don't know how I will ever begin to express what being a part of your world has meant to me. It has been the single most profound experience of my life and I spend my days wondering if you will ever be able to fully understand the depths of my love for you. If you will really know deep down in your bones how precious you are. How cherished you are. How beloved you are. How goshdarnstinking cute you are.
Every single aspect of my life has been elevated because of you. My creativity, my purpose, my marriage, my connection to the Lord. I couldn't have ever fully understood His love for me, until I had children of my own. I didn't even know love like this was even possible.
So you can understand why I cry on the couch about a new tooth poking through, or an acceptance letter to pre-school.
I see myself as a warrior of memories. Or maybe..... more like a gate-keeper.
I have one shot at this.
I have a dysfunctional drive to create the most special, wonderful, fun, child hood I can for the two of you. I spend hours thinking about how I can make every single day something you will remember and look back fondly on. My guilt crushes me to dust when I'm folding clothes instead of blowing bubbles for you. I'm realizing as I am now a parent of two, you won't remember much from this time. I don't know who really can vividly remember their lives before the age of maybe 7 or 8? So not only am I debating if I should handle the strange smell from the pile of dishes in the sink...or if I should make us a home made mud pie to smash up outside, I'm also obsessing about how I am going to make sure you remember these days.
And this is why you see Mommy laying on the floor in front of you with that big black "clicking" thing shoved in your face all day long.
It will be my job to tell you about the first time we curled your hair "fancy" like mine (your words.) You won't remember the banana flavored ring pop you sucked on while we sat with your feet in my bathroom sink as we curled your long pretty hair. You won't remember how it took my breath away how stunning you were at just 3 years old. Your beauty is so time less, almost vintage. You remind me of royalty. A princess, in real life. I will spend my days cultivating your inner beauty, praying it will be as remarkable as your outer beauty.
is my sister ya know?"
(because you never cry) and she'd run screaming down the hall, "Ava's awake!" It will be my job to tell you about the way she would push the stool to your crib and crawl right in there with you and kiss you on the head a million times. And you certainly won't remember they way you would buck and kick and squeal with delight the minute anyone came in your room to pick you up after a nap.
He doesn't get it.
It will be me who will have to pull out this photo on your 16th birthday. I'll tell all your friends how you were in the middle of a sneeze here, but I had to keep the picture because your cute little baby boobies looked so adorable. You will hate me for a while....but you'll laugh about it when you are 30. I promise.
real moments, not posed....fake smiling moments..... where you were showing each other love. You will look at the photos, just like I do now, and you will know that there is an un-mistakable bond you share. One of you won't remember life without the other. You will see the admiration radiating for one another in these images and your hearts will melt and you will be reminded how lucky you are to have each other. And you will stop your silly bickering (or else!).
So please don't be annoyed when I'm laying next to you while you are trying to paint or draw, snapping photo after photo. It's my job to hold onto this stuff for you girls. Until the days come when you can look back and pretty much remember most of it, and then I'll try to lay off. (I'll probably be the annoying mom pushing everyone out of the way so I can snap a pic of you at all your school functions though...sorry....you've been warned.) My job is to take this one sliver of time I have with you being so little....and try to mold it into the most amazing experience of your life. I want you to look back on this time we had together and really be able to feel the love we had in this home. My mission is simple: create it. document it. preserve it. remind you of it.
And okay, cry over it too once in a while.
I love you to pieces my little ones.