I used to run to my computer at the end of the day, waiting to gush about every interaction, every event, every story from that day....... it all got dumped into my blog.
But lately, somethings changed.
I'm still taking pictures.
I'm still video taping.
I'm still doing all the daily tasks I always did, just multiplied by two.
Only now, I'm allowing myself to really live the moments and not worry about how I'm going to document them. I used to have this feeling that if I didn't "blog" or journal about my day...that meant it didn't happen. Like the day itself was erased if it didn't find it's way to a piece of paper or the Internet.
I'm deciding I'm not going to be ruled by my guilt when it comes to documenting our lives. At the end of my life, I'm not bringing my blog or my journals with me. Every memory, every story, every giggle, every tear- lives inside me. It's a part of my bones now.
It is me.
And because I am one with my memories, they can't be erased. And because I don't have the time to write them down means I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm living my life. It was just becoming too emotionally exhausting for me to sit and stress about not blogging. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized something about what it meant to me. My girls aren't going to look back on our lives and wish I'd done more blogging for them. They aren't going to say, "Gosh I wish mom would have written more about our childhood."
What will matter to them, is that I was there.
I want to be so present in their lives that they can't remember a day of their childhood without me. I want to be a force of energy that influenced them so greatly. I want them to remember a mother who was a teacher and loving caregiver who played with them.
I don't want them to remember the back of my head staring at a bright screen, tap tap tapping on a keyboard while I write about their lives.
So I come here when the wind blows me. When the stars line up just so and my heart feels like it has something to share. This place will transform into many things for me I have a feeling.
Ava is almost 6 months old.
Six. Months. Old.
That is unbelievable. And this time, I get it. I get how fast this is going to go. I have my experience with Sophie to lean on this time. I stood by the sidelines watching her, mouth open in awe at how fast her baby days were zipping by me. It was remarkable how fast it went. This time, I'm soaking up every baby goodness moment I can. I'm sniffing her neck all day. I'm squishing her chunky thighs as much as I can. I'm holding her little body until my arms ache, because I know...before I know it, the babe will disappear.
And I'm in the race again.
The race against that damn baby stealer I hate so much: Time.
Time is an asshole and I kind of hate him.
He sneaks in during the night and stretches my babies legs and helps her roll over. He gives her a strong neck so she can push herself up off the floor when she is on her tummy. He helps her to have strong arms so she can almost hold her own bottles. He brings lots of drooling and makes her teeth grow in, which totally changes the shape of her baby face.
He gives my toddler logic and reason which makes for heated discussions at the dinner table about why she can't eat naked. He makes her defiant and we argue about why she can't wear the same spaghetti sauce stained dress she has had on for three days. He makes her very smart, teaching her to use the very curse words she has heard us say to each other in private.
I am so aware and painfully paranoid about how fast my children are growing up. It's a sickness really. I almost wish I didn't know how soon it would be over....these mommy stay at home days with her babies are flying right by me. But for some reason, I do know. I am so alive and connected to the fact that I am living in a sand filled hour glass. And I'm sure God is sick of hearing it, but I thank him every day. Every. Day. I thank him for letting me have the privilege of staying home and raising my girls. It's more of a blessing than I ever imagined.
I'm in a place where I've been before, yet everything is totally different. Ava is such a different spirit than Sophie was. The logistics are the same. The feeding, the napping, the diaper changing. But the energy is totally different.
Ava is a laid back angel. She is so easy going and so gentle. She glides into any room and smiles at anyone who shoots her a grin.
Sophie was a little more intense as a baby. She wasn't as warm to strangers and she was quite a bit more irritated.
And the reason I notice all of this magic is because I'm allowing myself to really be in the moment with these girls.
Our days and hearts are so full of this beautiful life. And I'm not missing out on one second of all this delightful and painful growing up.
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