Working It Out

I was going to write their birth story this week. But those words will not seem to flow, the memory of that day is still messy, scary and jumbled in my mind.

Two years ago on a Wednesday morning at 6 a.m. I met our boys for the first time. Our nurse brought them to me and handed me two small boys, perfect and healthy.

Oddly enough that same nurse and I do yoga together every Tuesday and Thursday night, she lives about 5 miles from us and still asks about the boys.

I cannot seem to write about that day 2 years ago but I do want to write about another aspect of motherhood.

A conversation was generated with a few other Mama and non Mama friends regarding motherhood and the preparation for it. I often feel like I had no time to prep. So much of my pregnancy time was devoted specifically to delaying the act of becoming a Mama, keeping them in until it was safe for them to come out.

There was something I read this week that made me feel a bad as a Mama, not the one I am now but the one I wished I had been at the beginning. I had to think about the why of that and realized how internalized I had made that little something that I had just read. It was in no way meant to make anyone feel bad, but it was just the perfect picture it presented and how glaringly un-perfect it made me feel.

It made me want to share something here. I know when I post here it is about my life but those are just slices, glimpses. And sometimes I get comments from people asking how I do it all....that they do not know how it all gets done.

Truth is, it doesn't. The house is not always in order, in fact as I write this I am laying in sand and laundry and cars the boys left on our bed. The toy room is not organized, the door casings are not finished and the pocket door to our hall bathroom has no hardware on it and has not for 3 years. The kitchen is full of dirty dishes, our backyard sliding door gets stuck everyday because it needs to be replaced but but we cannot justify the cost right now even at wholesale price. There are too many shoes piled at the front door, most mysteriously without mates.

The boys hair is rarely combed, sometimes I pretend not to hear them fighting so I can read one more blog post, I stay up too late, their room is nowhere near 'done' and they are almost two and I think I should read to them more and practice their numbers and letters with more consistency...which is hard because all they want to do is play in the sand and water our plants.

I also know how to take pictures that obscure all these real life details. I am not ashamed of them, it is just that I choose to edit the mess so I do not have to see it in the glaring light.

My Mamahood life is messy, full of grit and sand, broken toys and too much plastic, but then my life has always been a bit messy.

So as year two comes to a close, I want to remember and I want you all reading to know it is far from perfect. It is cluttered and disorganized, full of plain pasta and food discarded on the floor, occasionally partially chewed. It is up and down, exhausting and sometimes bewildering.


But I would not change a moment of it. Question my approach? Yes. Learn from my mistakes? Of course. But remember that it is okay as it is, they are perfect as they are and so am I. Always working on that one.

That is the joy of it though. The possibility that we might finish the house projects, bring the garden to fruition and de-clutter our lives. All the while being gifted with the special and precious charge of raising some of the most wonderful and challenging children I have ever met.

But, Tim, seriously? The pocket door needs its hardware. Stat.