I wanted so badly tonight on my way home from work to pick up the phone and call my mom. It had been a very long week, full of added stress at school. I just wanted to talk to her. To hear her voice. To laugh. I was wondering what she would think, as a high school English teacher, of this ridiculous m-step test we are to give our students. Would she be just as stressed as I am? Would she worry about how her students would react at its ridiculous, unrealistic demands? Would she stay quiet and just do as she is told? Probably not. It would be fun to bitch about it with her.
I wanted to talk to her about being a mom, specifically being a mom of twins. I wanted to tell her that we're doing it, this parenting thing. We are so tired, but we are doing it. Our kids are amazing. Our kids are healthy and beautiful and smart. There are nights where i just want to cry and collapse. There are times when TJ and I look at each other and know, without saying a word, that we are so very blessed. I wanted to tell her that one of my favorite times is going in to watch the kids sleep- Bryson with his booty in the air and his legs tucked under him with a loopie by his cheek, Tobin flat on his tummy with his ankles crossed and one binky in his drooling mouth and another in his hand, Camryn with her booty in the air and her hair covering her face to the point it is difficult to tell which side her face is on, and Jaely sprawled out with her robot blanket and her mouth hanging open.
I wanted to share motherhood with her. I never got a chance to compare stories, to ask questions. . . about anything major in life really. I got my first teaching job just two months before she passed away. We bought our first house, our first car, had our first child all after she had passed. So much in life as changed, but I still want to call her.
I want to share so that someone will begin to understand how difficult having twins is. How when you really think about the nitty gritty, you begin to see how everything can be a struggle. It is a wonderful, exciting, interesting struggle, but it is a struggle. Two trips to drop them off at daycare, two trips to pick them up. Two winter jackets to put on and zip up, two lunches to pack, two pairs of shoes to try to put on feet, two outfits every day that need to be washed, two boys at the doctors office and running around the room, two teethers who need to sleep, two baths to give and diapers to change and buy, two carts when you go shopping, two hungry boys demanding food at the same time, two daycare bills, two high chairs to clean, two crying at the same time and wanting to be held. . .
Many people don't think of all that. They think of all the good stuff- and there is PLENTY of good stuff. I don't mean that, but I think my mom would get it. I think she wouldn't keep telling me how "cool" it would be to have twins. She would get the struggle along with the good. Because Camryn still needs so much, she would get why going places would be so difficult. One boy for me and one boy for TJ, but then who is with Camryn? This goes for everything from going out to eat (if we had money!) to going sledding to going to the aquatics center for open pool time.
I would also share the pure joy that fills my heart to hear both boys laughing as they crawl over TJ, to see them both smile when I see them for the first time in the morning, to hear them both babble to one another, to watch them give hugs and blow kisses, to watch them learn new things every day, to watch them love their big sisters, to tickle both their tummies, to watch their "firsts" be experienced together, to watch their personalities develop. . . . such joy both bring!
I know as the girls get older too, I am going to keep wishing I could just call me mom. I am sure I would roll my eyes at the stories she would tell me about when I was their age (and rolled my eyes back then, too). I would love to her the stories. I don't have the best memory, like my oldest brother Jered. I have always been so jealous of his clear memories. Jason just makes up the stories, but Jered really remembers with great detail. I got nothing!
I would also share how I am getting fatter every day and feel so out of control with it that i am sick about it. I know with my mom's history, I have to be get my weight down. She struggled too, but never this badly. . . . but she didn't have twins, two older kids and work full time, either. Ugh!
My heart just aches so badly and there is nothing that can be done. I can't talk to her. I can't hear her voice and listen to her advice or listen to her complaints about school and this dumb test. I really miss having "that person" to call. No one is like my mom was on the phone. TJ comes very, very close, but i couldn't call him because I knew he had a car full of our kids. And he is in the thick of it with me. I needed an outsider!
So I came here. My computer doesn't hug like my mom. It won't take me in its arms and dance with me around the kitchen while wearing pajamas and fluffy slippers. It won't even laugh. Or even nag. I would even take a mom nag right about now.
This will pass. Tomorrow, may be better and I may not feel the ache. I haven't in awhile, so maybe it will go as quickly as it came. One can hope. Until then, thanks for listening in a weird sort of way, Mom. I love you and miss sharing this journey of life with you. Now to go grade papers on this Friday night. . . just like she did.
