Max and Molly are turning four tomorrow and I am a total wreck.
I have no idea what is wrong with me. If you were to ask my friends and family to describe me - emotional or “easy-crier” would come right after introverted and sensitive. It just isn’t me.
But, somehow, I found myself sitting at my desk today welling up and starting to cry every time I thought about their birthday. I blamed my red eyes and sniffly nose on a cold – but in truth I am an emotional wreck.
It all started in Wal-Mart on Sunday. Max and I were standing in line getting some birthday party supplies and he was happily talking away. One thing I absolutely love about Max is that he never stops talking. And it is never a continuous stream of thought. It is all over the map and sounds more like, “Hey Momma, look at that gum – there is a strawberry on it. I wonder what it tastes like. Where is Pappa? My pants are the same color as that lady so that means we match. Hey do you see that magazine? There is a cake on it. Hey Momma, I had a good idea, maybe we can have that cake for our birthday? Are we in Wal-Mart Momma? Are we going home next? Maybe for my birthday I can get the big dinosaur with the mask on? I don’t have that one yet. I bet Nina would like to chew gum and she has stinky breath so maybe she should.”
I noticed that the woman ahead of us in line kept stealing glances at Max and smiling. She caught my eye and leaned over and whispered, “You should enjoy this. It goes way too quickly. Mine are 18 and 22 and I miss this every day.”
Right then it hit me full force like a punch to the gut. My babies are about to turn four and nothing remains of the babies they were. Before I know it, they are going to be off to school and will start building an entire life that doesn’t involve me.
1459 days ago today Max and Molly came into the world. They were born at 8:29 a.m. and 8:30 a.m. respectively and every minute since has been filled with them in some wonderful way. They have rocked our world and shifted my thinking and priorities in ways I would have never imagined.
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| Max and Molly - one day old |
Max is almost 120 cm tall (just shy of four feet for my imperial friends) and comes up to the middle of my rib cage. He is on-course to become a giant at this rate. He can name about 20 different dinosaurs, every type of heavy equipment imaginable and has one of the best imaginations in the world. Molly is already writing words and can spell her name, Max’s name and mine. She knows that an elephant is a pachyderm, that sloths can give birth while upside down and that tigers are carnivores.
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| Max and my dad |
I just keep remembering how Max used to pat his little chest with a closed fist and say “I Mack” because he couldn’t say the “x” sound on Max, and how Molly used to kick frantically like a little frog in the tub and then giggle and giggle at herself.
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| Molly - seven months old |
Having twins is hard - and I will admit that during those first overwhelming months I spent a lot of the time wishing the days away. “I can’t wait until you guys can crawl – life will be so much easier!” “I can’t wait until you guys can feed yourselves.” “I can’t wait until you guys can talk.”
They can do all of those things now and more and instead of relishing it – I find myself wishing the days backwards. “I wish you were small enough again for me to cuddle you in my arms until you fall asleep.” “I wish you still had that baby smell.” “I wish you still did that funny walk were you looked like a little a drunk wobbling down the hall on bowed legs.”
Being a parent is a funny thing. I have never loved anything harder than these two little munchkins and being a parent to them has filled me with more pride and joy than I could have ever imagined. But part of your job as a parent is also ensuring that they have the skills and abilities to leave you and flourish on their own. What a weird concept. You pour your heart and soul into these beings so they can eventually leave you.
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| Max and Mo - 18 months old |
All I can hope is that we don’t mess up too much and interfere with the path already set in motion for them. I hope that we prepare them with the knowledge and strength that they will need to develop into fantastic and amazing adults I know they will become. I also hope we give them the confidence required so that they never feel the need to conform or hide the distinctive and quirky personality traits that make them so special.
My biggest wish for Molly is that she never stops being so outspoken and strong. I hope she has the confidence and courage to keep to doing her “move” and continue to be the white butterfly with rainbow sparkles amid a sea of pink and purple. She is such a powerhouse and force to be reckoned with that I think the biggest gift we can give her is the strength to remain true to herself and see just where life leads her. The saddest thing I could imagine for Molly is seeing that inner spark and fire go out or dim.
Max is my gentle giant. That kid is all heart and is so sensitive and attuned to the feelings of others around him. He has such a soft and kind soul that we worry about him constantly. I worry that the world may turn and bend him - and harden his natural empathy, curiosity and openness. I hope he can learn by the examples in his life – Anders and my dad, two of the strongest, kindest and gentlest men I have ever known – that men do show compassion, love and tenderness. That real strength is not about being the toughest, or loudest, or meanest – but about being strong enough to stand up and remain true to yourself and what you believe in.
I am staying home from work tomorrow and Ruby and I are taking the kids out for a special birthday outing. I am apologizing to you now Ruby as I am pretty sure I will have some totally inappropriate crying outbursts. For Christ’s sake I am crying right now! On second thought – you may want to bail on us altogether. I am going to be a mess!
Happy fourth birthday to my Maxey–Doodle and Molly-Mo. You both are truly the best of everything in your dad and I, and I couldn’t be prouder or happier to be your Momma.
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| Max and Molly - three years, 11 months |
