The In-Between

A friend of mine welcomed a second baby a few days ago. I went in to visit the tiny new member (literally only half the size of Liam when he was a newborn), and you could feel the heavy question "What is going to happen when I get home" hanging in the room.

Two babies under two years old.

"This is going to feel awful," I said (I have a problem with filters at times, what do you want me to do about it?), "But then, it's not going to be awful anymore. And then they'll be friends, and then one day you'll wake up and they'll be seven and five, and you won't even remember the awful times. It's going to be hard, but then it will be worth it, so remember there's a light."

After thoroughly terrifying the new parents, I went on my merry way, and tried my hardest to remember what it was like when I had two babies in diapers. And here's the thing; I barely can.

I know Liam never slept. I know that I would be up countless times in a night to pull him out of his crib and nurse and rock him back to sleep. I know I was exhausted and frustrated and felt alone and wanted to run away sometimes. I know because I have it filed away somewhere in a drawer in my brain that almost never gets opened. I know that constantly being needed by my children sometimes felt like something that I had always wanted, and other times felt like a crushing weight on my chest. But I have to think about it on purpose because when I think back to when the kids were small, those parts never come to mind.

Motherhood is never what you expect it to be. It's a lifetime of curve-balls, shots in the dark, hail Mary's and doing the best you can with what you have at the time. It's dirty and imperfect and guilt-ridden and honestly I think your mind blocks out the worst parts as a defense mechanism so that you'll continue to reproduce and keep our species alive. And when we look back, we would do it all over again. Even knowing what I know now, I would. I would sit in that rocking chair one million times a night, I would spend my 20's with my surprise baby rather than travelling or downtown. The hard times are absolute garbage, but the moments in between are what your mind meticulously documents.

I keep trying to tell myself this these days. With a seven year old who has an unreal level of attitude and a five year old who lives to torment, patience runs thin on a frequent basis. Mornings are a constant rush, there are coats and boots and lunch tins and schoolbags everywhere. Homework and after school activities and two full time jobs. All of this adds up to time moving at warp speed, but every now and then there is a moment in between that I hang onto while I'm in it. This is what I will miss, and it's happening right now. I'm in it. I'm here. I will wish for this moment back one day. When my kids are towering over me and fighting over car keys and spending time in their rooms with the door shut and coming home well after I'm asleep, I will wish for the nights when I woke up in the dark to a little body snuggled into me in my bed. I will wish for the days when my kids thought going to an afternoon movie with their mom was the best thing that happened all week.

These days are the trenches of motherhood. They often leave us in pure survival mode, but hang on to them. Every bedtime is another day of childhood gone. No day is ever going to be perfect, so let go of that plan. But every day will have perfect moments that you won't realize are happening if you don't pay attention, and one day you'll look back and wish you were there again.

A few weeks back we got our family pictures taken and it was complete pandemonium. The kids wouldn't listen, they wouldn't stay still, they were cold, they wanted to go home, and eventually I gave up on a perfect family portrait this year. But our photographer kept taking pictures, and when I saw them, I saw the in-between. The missed moments that slipped by when nobody was paying attention.

Pay attention.

Embrace the awful and the mess and the exhaustion and the survival. Live for the little moments. Let them sleep in your bed, cuddle them when they cry, have the occasional mental breakdown, and do whatever you have to do to get some sleep and get you through the day. Everyone is going to be fine, you won't remember the worst times, and if they grow up to be completely dysfunctional, just think of how funny they'll be at parties.

"Man, that guy is a riot! You should hear the stories he tells about his childhood!"

"I know, I did that to him! You're welcome!"

*Sips cold coffee

*Screams at kids to keep it down, mommy is writing