We've reached the 2 year milestone!
I don't know where to start this time, as we've moved into a new dimension. A brave new world where babies have become people, and cooperation is replaced by exclamations of disgust and squeals of discontent. Is this the twilight zone? Has someone absconded with our sweet-natured angels? Well, I'll admit that my head does spin at times. And from the looks on the kids' faces, my eyes must bug out a bit when some particularly heinous mess has been made.
Cole is Squirrel Boy, dashing to and fro. Jadyn is smiling dress-up girl, marching around with a backpack, hat and stroller. And Isabella, well, she still prefers to perch on a lap with a menagerie of stuffed animals & a book.
And when mishaps occur, the children all have their acts down. Cole:deny, deny, deny! Three times deny, and I hate this house! Jadyn: blame, blame, blame! Anyone but me, and usually it's "Bewa." Isabella: stare, stare, stare! Eventually my cuteness will distract them, and they'll bring a snack.
Mealtimes? Cole: I hate this! Yuck! This is disgusting... may I have dessert now? Jadyn: Scarf it down, pass anything unwanted over to "Bewa's" plate. Isabella: she's been waiting in her chair ever since someone mentioned eating, oh about 20 minutes ago.
We looked through our photo album of the first months after the girls were born. Thankfully I have this journal, because those days have been smitten from my memory! I have to concentrate to remember the exhaustion and overwhelming needs of 2 infants plus Dr. Demando (Cole, not Rick!). Ah, the trick of nature, lest every mother avoid a repeat performance! Just an observation, not a hint. Settle down.
So here we are, still standing, after 2 years. A little frazzled, slightly scattered, definitely blessed. And still watching over these 3 when they don't know we're looking. These are the sweet moments of reflection that sear into memory. Somewhere along the way our life started, and rather than hurry to the next scene, we are content to rest here and enjoy the noise. The commotion. The graham-crackery smell of a toddler. The sink full of dirty dishes...-ok, not those. Somebody please wash up. I'll pay you.