Changes

When people first meet my kids together the same reaction usually happens: their eyes pop and they curiously ask me, "How close are they in age?"  Umm... 13 months people.  I remember finding out I was pregnant when Lily had just barely turned 5 months old.  It was somewhat/sort of/OK...completely ridiculous.  It was also a surprise.  And I tried to be happy about it.  And I kind of was, depending on the day.

If you read my blog back then, it basically went like this:  "Oh my gosh.  This is so hard.  I think I'm going to die."  Or, "Oh my gosh, Skyler will never stop nursing or start sleeping.  I think I'm going to die."  Or, "Lily just tried eating Skyler's umbilical cord.  I think I'm going to die."

Well... I didn't die.  Whew.

Now that Lily is old enough to know that punching Skyler in the face doesn't count as a hug and that there are other/yummier/non-cannibalic snacks in the world, things are going much better for me as a mom. 

Sure my kids have rubbed the walls with anti-itch cream and vapo rub.  My carpet has been styled with vaseline.  My front door has even been finger painted in poop.  It's not always pleasant around these parts.  The barely-there age difference has made these two partners in crime, but I keep telling myself that at least they're partners.  At least they WANT to do these things together. 

But every morning I wake up by having the kids "jump cookies" on our bed (which really means that they just jump up and down yelling, "jumping cookies!"  Ben and I have no idea where they came up with that one...)  Then they will both come lie down with me and Skyler will press his forehead against mine, give my nose a kiss, and say softly, "Wake up, Mommy."  Every.  Single.  Morning.  It's pretty much the best way to wake up. 

Then during the rest of the day Lily and Skyler will go up into the castle and hide from dinosaurs and whales that are chasing them.  They often have conversations that I can't understand but then they end up rolling on the floor in laughter because even though I don't get it, they do. 

Ben and I always joke that we would never recommend having kids this close together.  But that would only be half true.  The begining was rougher than rough and I don't want to think about their financial future when they're going to college/on missions/getting married at the same time but everything in between is surreal.  So to people who pity me, don't. 

Now that Ben and I have been trying to get pregnant for months and months without success (with the exception of my miscarriage in August) I wish I could have told myself, "Be happy that you're having all-day sickness in your pregnancy.  At least you're pregnant!  Don't complain that you have to do 3 night-feedings a night for over a year.  At least you have a baby! Don't be upset that your kids are 13 months apart.  Some people can't even have one."  The list goes on.  Everyone has a plan to their life, but things don't always go that way. 

And sometimes that's when we're given the best blessings ever.

So if you ever find out that you're unexpectedly pregnant and your kids are going to be Irish Twins, don't freak out.  And don't read any of the blog posts I wrote in 2009.  Just remember that one day, your kids might be jumping cookies on your bed, too.  And then you'll pity everyone else.