Our days begin at the 4:18am crack of dawn when one of the two wakes up and wants to start the day. Inevitably, the other one wakes up and soon we have a chorus of way-too-early cries and I spend the next half hour going back and forth between their two bedrooms like a ping pong ball, replacing pacis and blankies, hoping for a few extra minutes of sleep.
The other morning, I was walking by Aaron's bedroom while Daddy was trying to rock him back to sleep, and all I could hear was him (Aaron, not Daddy!) sucking on his pacifier. It's a very distinct sound and sounds completely different than the way Owen sucks on his paci. I all of a sudden got really sentimental and thought about how sounds like these will soon escape my memory. I thought about how I can barely remember the sound of the squeaks Owen made for the first week of his life, and if it wasn't for photos, I wouldn't remember that just a few months ago, the babies were small enough that they could walk directly under our kitchen table without bumping their heads, or that they used to eat baby food or drink bottles or wear onesies, or...
We are in new territory now, with potty chairs and 2 word sentences and eating with spoons AND forks. We can do puzzles and shapes and "make pizza" in the most gourmet Little Tikes kitchen around. And if the amount of photos on my camera or videos on my phone are any indication, I am trying to stop time. Or at least, push pause so I can look back later when I am out of the blur of raising twins.
I recently came across this quote from one of my favorites:
“You will never have this day with your child again. Tomorrow they’ll be a little older than they were today. This day is a gift. Breathe and notice. Smell and touch them; study their faces and little feet and pay attention. Relish the charms of the present. Enjoy today, mama. It will be over before you know it.”-Jen Hatmaker
At 20 months old, there is so much I want to remember.
~How when I pick you up from daycare you come running around the corner with gigantic smiles and want to show me and give me every toy that you are holding.
~How you have learned that kisses are the best cure for your owies.
~How you LOVE to "ruh, ruh, run" around our house before bedtime in just your saggy little diapers.
~How you both call eachother "O" (as in Owen) but both know who we are talking about if we say Aaron.
~How Aaron smiles with his straight-across smile with the gap between his front teeth and eyes that light up the world.
~How Aaron stands up waiting for me in his crib, but always leans down to pick up his blankie before I lift him up.
~How Aaron gives the sweetest hugs that are defined as bending at the waist and leaning his head in towards whatever he is hugging.
~How Aaron's one little curl in his hair sits at the back of his neck, and how I haven't brought myself to cut it off yet.
~How Owen runs with a hop in his step and his hair flops up and down as he moves.
~How Owen immediately says "bye-bye" when you ask him where anything is.
~How Owen giggles at himself everytime he gets into his carseat and sees himself in the mirror on the seatback.
~How Owen is genuinely concerned when something is wrong. Aaron accidentally bonked me in the eye with his toy the other day and Owen looks at me and says, "Sye...(long pause) Mum." (Sorry, Mom)
~How when we are out and about and we see babies and you both get sooo excited and want to see and wave at them. And then I look at you both with your long legs and big boy tennis shoes and realize that you are not my little babies anymore. You are my little boys. My sweet, sweet little boys. What a lucky mama I am.
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