Five years have gone by in a blur of stinky cloth diapers, spills, the cute baby clothes have turned into stained unmentionables (on both ends). There were so many mistakes made, and so much crying, sobbing, screaming, wiping, (and wiping, and wiping), splats, falls, bruises, cuts, more crying, learning, hugging, laughing, sobs of joy, now, growing, and rejoicing. Rejoicing that we aren’t perfect, far from it, but we are a family full of messes and love.
You know twin A? The one who wouldn’t stop spinning in the womb? He’s five now, and he still hasn’t stopped. But he’s really awesome at back flips on the trampoline (go figure). Twin B? He has size FOUR feet now…twice the size they should be at this age. Glad that foot isn’t in my rib cage anymore. My older son…he’s still a precious gem. He’s tough like a diamond because his little life squeezed him out of his original “shape” a little bit, but now he’s even more beautiful than before. Those cute baby boy onesies? I pull them out of the box in the closet from time to time, just to laugh at the stains, and give them a snuggle.
Parenting is hard. So flippin’ hard some days it makes me sob. So flippin’ hard, that some days all I can do is laugh my guts out. Either way, parenting has a way of making me feel alive. So alive.