Deep breaths.

Somewhere, floating around my kitchen is a little notepad with ideas for blog posts scribbled on it.

   But by the time I track that down, Jocelyn will be up from her nap, and there will be no blogging, so I guess I'll just wing it.  That's what I do for 99.9% of my blog posts anyway, so hey!

   I realize I've been a little M.I.A. lately.  And this time, there won't be any apologies or excuses because A. I don't feel the need to apologize and B. I have pretty good excuses.  And proof of my good excuses is that I am now writing this sentence, a full day later than the previous 7 sentences.  So goes the life of a mother of 2 under 2, who is also trying to keep her blog alive. 


   I realized that I had been a little naieve about how this whole thing was going to go.  When did I discover that?  Oh, right around the time that we were in town and Charlotte pooped and we were out of wipes, and moments later Jocelyn vomited the entire contents of her breakfast, lunch, and possibly the previous night's dinner on herself and her car seat.  Did I mention we were out of wipes?  Also, I had not packed an extra set of clothes for her. 


   Another moment of revelation was yesterday evening, when I got both of the girls all dressed up for pictures and realized the camera battery was dead.  And the charger was no where to be found.  And if you've ever tried taking pictures of a 1 1/2 yr old and a baby, you know that you only have a slim window of opportunity.  I wanted to take these pictures underneath our beautiful tree, the exotic one that's dropping a blanket of blossoms onto the yard, and I needed to NOW because by the next time I would even think of it or muster up the energy to another time, the blossoms would be gone.  So, I went ahead and took them with my iPhone.  It just wasn't the same.  I could have cried, knowing that now even the simple, mundane task of "taking pictures of my daughters" has somehow crossed over into the realm of things that are just "too much".  Like going garage sale-ing, or swimming at the pool, or out on a late night date or pretty much anything other than a few remaining things I can count on one hand.   


 Another moment of revelation is right now, when I am trying to quickly blog while Jocelyn is napping, but I am also trying to keep Charlotte awake, because she wants to sleep all day and party all night.  But I am starting to give up, because I have already completely undressed her, taken her on a windy walk to the mailbox stark naked, (her, not me) and placed her in a bouncy seat while jangling toys and fanning her with a piece of discover card junk mail, and she's still trying to doze off.  Like I said, I am giving up.


   Another moment of revelation was...o.k. this could go on forever.  I'm basically living in moments of revelations all the time.  Realizing that just as I was naieve about the intensity of childbirth before Jocelyn, I have been naieve about the juggling of motherly duties with two little ones.  It is TOUGH.  By far the most stretching thing I've ever gone through.  I feel weak.  Tired.  Thin. Not as in, skinny, but as in stretched thin like watered down jelly trying to spread itself over too much of a piece of thick, dry bread.  Or a whole loaf.


   I feel out of touch with my friends.  And that makes me sad.  I am a social butterfly to the core, and I need to get out, see people, fellowship.  But I am at the point in the "mommy-of-little-ones" stage where it feels like this is all you will ever do with your life.  Change diapers and nurse and read stories and kiss night-night.  Exotic vacations and time-consuming hobbies and let's be honest, a shopping trip to the mall all seem like distant memories or outlandish dreams. 


   I know it flies by before you know what hit you.  I have a 1 1/2 yr old, remember?  I know how quickly they change.  But it doesn't keep my finite, stubborn little mind from forgetting that, and getting hung up on the 'here and now', and thinking it will be the 'everywhere and forever'.  Which I know is silly and short-sighted and "Oh me of little faith" but it doesn't prevent me from feeling it.


   I love being a mom.  Truly, truly, I do.  These two little glimpses of Heaven are the best thing that's ever happened to me.  They have changed me into a better woman.  They have shook me to the core, and made all the weaknesses sift right out of me and up to the surface for the good and the bad, and the very awful at times.  But I'm still grateful, because then it means I'm changing. I'm growing.  I'm developing.  But sometimes it's hard to remember all of that in the midst of the sifting and the refining and the molding and shaping, and it's easier to just look back and want your life back.  Body back, time back, sleep back, quiet back.  It's selfish and it's shallow, but it's real.  It can happen to anyone.


   Well, that's enough for now, I have a sleeping baby to go wake up.