Sometimes exhaustion takes over and all you want to do is leave them in their beds. Trapped.
And you would be resting.
Happily.
But then you begin to think.
Oh no! What if they are stripping down to their diapers?
What if they are taking their diapers off?
What if they have poopy diapers?
What if they are smearing it all over the walls???
Because you know EVERYTHING like that has already happened.
I remember the first time my son stripped his diaper, I walked into the room and caught him ever so happily standing and peeing all over his crib. He was smiling so brightly!
Later, after we moved back to Poland, my son refused to move into a “big boy bed”. At first, I really tried to convince him he was a big boy and to sleep in a bed, but sense took over and I thought—holy cow! Why take him out of his trapped environment?
And he loves his crib.
But I am also a big believer that sometimes we ask kids to grow too quickly. Therefore, I am VERY content my son loves his crib.
Although he loves his crib, and he remains trapped, doesn’t mean that I have freedom.
The other day I walked in and he had fresh rice milk handprints all over his wall. He found a way to smear his rice milk all over the wall—but there is literally about 50 handprints that can be seen on his brown wall. And they are so cute. And I am not sure I want to cover them up.
And, believe me, I have already had enough poopy episodes to last me a lifetime.
Keeping up with my littles is hard work. And tiring work. And sometimes I feel so unfit to be their mommy work.
But then my little man comes and throws himself in my lap and tells me he loves me.
It’s a brief moment because he is not the most cuddly child…but it’s a moment.
And I take it. And sometimes I get to extend him my hand. And he gives me a finger. And I take it.
And my littlest trails after me pulling my sweatpants off all of the time with her constant tugging at my leg. And I pull them back up over and over again, picking her up at the same time. And she cries, “Momma!”
And I love it.
I have gotten to stay home with my babies the last 3 weeks—and as utterly exhausted as I have been stoking coal, lighting wood fires, cleaning baby puke and poop…
I have loved every moment.
My son today, after I put my daughter down for a nap, said to me, “Sit down and play with Maxwell, Momma!”
And I sat on the floor and played sensory water marbles spoons-thingy with him. For about an hour. And we moved marbles back and forth and scooped water. And did pretty much nothing except sit with spoons, water, marbles, and one another.
And it was blissfully beautiful because it was with my boy.
I have not kept up with my showers or hair combing. I haven’t kept up with wardrobe changes or even really eating much except soggy cereal leftovers from their remaining breakfasts, but I have loved them much these last 3 weeks that I have gotten to stay at home and be mommy.
I don’t do the best job at keeping up with my littles—but I do the best job I can at loving them way more than a little. I love them a lot.
And perhaps during all of this crazy diaper pooping puking playing crying trying time in my life, I will actually understand that keeping up with my littles simply calls for loving them enough.
And, if that is the case, hopefully I am doing a swimming job of it all.
And 2 Makes Crazy 