Sometimes I’ll have these moments, these flashes of heightened-consciousness, where I stop what I am doing and suddenly think, “WHERE DID THESE LITTLE PEOPLE COME FROM?”
It seems shocking to me that I am already in this stage of life- where I am reproducing people and am completely responsible for their care and well-being. So much of me still feels like a “kid” myself.
And then these two humans, they wrestle! And I think, “If it weren’t for me and the decisions I’ve made, this wrestling match would not even be happening!”
That is right about when Ezra starts screaming because Myer (his EIGHT MONTH OLD baby brother) is “squishing” him or “pulling his hairs” or “drooling on him”.
And I swoop in to rescue my four year old. From my eight month old.
It’s going to be a loooong 18 years, isn’t it?
Wait. Don’t answer that. I think I know the truth.
It’s going to feel more like the blink of an eye, right? Like a cluster of moments that got away from me too quickly…
…moments that I just couldn’t wrestle and pin down fast enough.
It’s a total TKO.