I get weepy sometimes. Silly mommy hormones! I used to be this way when PMSing so I know it's more hormone related than anything else. I used to be hyper weepy when we first adopted Ambrose, and I can still get really weepy when nursing a lot. I also go through phases of being totally hyper-happy, completely optimistic and ready to take on the world. These used to come a couple weeks off from each other (ovulation and menstruation) and I've been seeing them again for the past few months, though no blood to back it up (which used to be a yay and is now a boo).
Sometimes, like yesterday, I get in a weepy frame of mind and there's not a dang thing that can help me. Oh, sure, comfort food and kiddie hugs and laying my head on Nik's shoulder all help, but I'm just weepy and pathetic.
And often I focus on time and how fast it all moves. Yesterday all I could think was "my boys are growing up... pretty soon Ambrose will be Paxton's age and Paxton will be huge and then they'll be teens then adults and they'll move out and then they'll have kids and those kids will grow up and then they'll have kids and they'll grow up and then we're all gonna die!!!!!!!"
I have such a different perspective on life and death and, well, everything since having kids. I acknowledge that every person who lives will die. But I don't want to acknowledge that this is true for my children. I know my children will grow, that one day they'll be complex adults just like us, but yet it's hard to fathom. I know we won't always be the center of their worlds, that we won't have every answer, that they won't always think we're cool and want cuddles, that some day the hugs will end and the nursing will end and the bedtime stories will end and even all the loads of laundry will end.
And I'm so, so going to miss it.
And then I follow this train of thought to my own parents and how they must have felt about me growing up, and then their parents and how they felt about it, and so on and so forth. And then I see the image of a person who died on the news and my heart just breaks because that was somebody's child, someone who was snuggled up warm in a womb and born and snuggled and dressed and cleaned and fed and taught and then, in just a single instant, a car or bullet took their life and it was all over, just gone, the end.
And it just... resonates. It resonates with me at a frequency I couldn't pick up before. Now I get it, I flipping get it, how important this all is, how spectacular every second is.
I rock my sweet toddler to sleep and, my God, I'm rocking life! I'm holding a whole, real, complete human being in my arms as he closes his eyes and rests his weary body. Who knows who he'll be, who he'll nurture, who he'll inspire? Who knows if he'll be holding his own little one 30 years from now and thinking the same exact thing?
There's just so much potential, so much intricacy. And just looking at my boys and seeing how important they are, how wonderful they are, just seeing how a human being gets from a tiny baby to a big, grown adult, makes me love humanity all the more.
And now... I'm getting all poetic or somethin'.
I get jumbly when I'm weepy. Start thinking about the universe and why we're here and the point to it all and how my children and spouse and I fit in and whether there's a Heaven and if we really will be together for always.
But one good thing that comes out if it is this: I really, truly try to focus on the now. Take a picture to remember then put it away and play on the floor. Hug and kiss and tell them I love them. Talk, talk, talk and read books. Spend time one on one. And try, try, try to remember it all because these moments are so fleeting...
Should I mention that today Ambrose turns 18 months? A full year and a half old now.... wow....
Lily in a loafing barn
2 months ago