Baby Benders

[life.]

I've been struggling with my first post back. Because how do you write a blog post about becoming a mom for the first time? It's tough stuff (both the blog post and becoming a mom, although the blog doesn't wake me up in the middle of the night expecting to be fed and cuddled). Being a mom is the biggest challenge I have ever, or will ever, face (I gave up on that climb Mt. Everest thing years ago). Every day is different. Every cry is different. Nothing will ever be the same.

When I was pregnant, friends who were already parents would give me a knowing smile and claim that "you will never look at life the same the moment they place that baby in your arms." Of course know I now what they mean, because it is impossible to look at anything the same on 3 hours of sleep. In 2 days. What kind of a cruel world do we live in that gives new parents a tiny helpless human to take care of while running on such little sleep that I put flour in my coffee, thinking it is sugar? Cause it's not. It clumps. Oh, and I'm back on coffee. Judge me...now.

Some moments I just want them to grow up and be 9 already. I want Annabelle to come home and tell me about a boy she has a crush on. I want Joshua to play video games with his dad. I want to check their homework and make them lunches and pick them up from school. And sleep through the night, let's not forget that. But then I watch Annabelle suck on her pacifier as she drifts into a content baby sleep (for both of us). Or dance with Josh around the living room while I hold his (giant) head close to my nose and smell how sweet he is. And then I think that the rest of my life won't be long enough to spend with them and I want to freeze my family in this time forever.

Life around our house has changed. Dinners are interrupted by crying. Sleep is interrupted by crying. Movies are interrupted by crying. Pretty much everything is interrupted by crying. Showers are postponed, dishes don't get done, and our brains are turning into mush. I've actually shoved my face into a diaper with a fat load of poop in it so I could get a really good feel for the color and consistency. If a good BM didn't rule my life before, it most definitely does now. I've been peed on, caught poop in my bare hands, have spit up on most of my t-shirts, don't fit into any of my pre-pregnancy pants, and have seen more projectile substances than Linda Blair could ever produce.

But so far, it has all been worth it.

[twin secrets.]