Lola and Jackson are still over a month away from their second birthday and already I'm looking askance at that date. It looms there, ever-present on the calendar. It mocks my sentimentality. March 11 approaches steadily no matter how much I beg time to slow down. Surely my babies aren't turning 2 next month. Not MY babies. Not my BABIES!
The signs of change have been overwhelming lately. Aaron and I have bought potties, begun the registration process for nursery school and are planning our first vacation away from the kids. Come over for a visit and you'll notice that the high chairs are gone; the kids ask for what they want to eat and then climb up on the chairs at the table, ready to eat like big kids. And maybe the most difficult change for me to accept... Lola and Jackson only sit in my lap and cuddle during 2 very precious times in the day: after they first wake up, all drowsy and unsure of the world, and when they are watching television. I'll admit it now and certainly deny it if you ask me in person; I occasionally put on Sesame Street just so they'll both snuggle in my lap on the couch. I kiss the tops of their heads and smell their hair like I did when they were infants. That snuggle time is like a drug and sometimes a momma just needs her fix.
Sure I'm enjoying planning their Elmo birthday parties (yes, we are having more than 1... 3 Freedman birthday parties are happening this March). And so much of their growing up makes our everyday lives easier. And really, would I rather the alternative? Certainly not. I don't want them to NOT grow up. But it's still hard. And it's even harder when I begin to think that Lola and Jackson might be it. They might be my last.
Everything becomes sentimental when it might be the last one. "Awww, we might never feed a baby in a high chair again." Suddenly those disgusting food covered chairs are incredibly sentimental. "Awww, once Lola and Jack are potty trained I might never change a diaper again." Never before did I think I would lament our last diaper change.
And maybe it won't be our last. No irreversible decisions have been made. But I'm very aware as our lives shift from infant to toddler and soon to preschooler that the shift will possibly be permanent. And knowing that Lola and Jackson's second birthday celebration might be our last makes it bittersweet. So as March 11th looms, I try to make the sweet overpower the bitter. I try to think about celebrating what is instead of feeling sorry for what isn't. And if planning 3 birthday parties helps me do that, than 3 birthday parties it is. A momma's gotta do what a momma's gotta do, right?