I’m sure I’m one of many blog posts today that will start this way, and probably not even the only one you’ll read. But actually, this post has little to do with Thanksgiving, and more to do with life.
I was in bed with the girls the other night, with both of them cuddled up right next to me. Of course, it made it rather hard for me, at 34 weeks pregnant, to get a good night’s sleep, so I was “blessed” with lots of time to think. Like most people, I suspect that I do my best thinking in the middle of the night.
Mostly, my thoughts centered on the girls, and the impending arrival of baby Jessica. Some days I feel like 34 weeks has dragged on indefinitely, and others I cannot believe how quickly they’ve flown, especially when I realize that my once babies are now 5 and 3. How did that time pass so quickly? Will it go faster, even, the third time? I wonder…
I remember when the girls were little. Some of Marcus’ and my favorite memories were the early days, when we’d be up later into the evening with them, before routines arrived. We’d be watching tv, and Sam or Erica would be curled up (because they were always curled up) and resting on our chests, or sitting on the couch next to us. We couldn’t resist staring, touching, holding, and picking up, even if it meant waking up the baby (which is pretty hard to do with a newborn). With Samantha, we imagined it was the novelty, and that it would wear off. We’d surely be different with Erica. But we weren’t. Those early times were the same. Hectic during the day, of course, but calm in the evenings…our evenings.
There was something about those early days and nights–where you could survive on little sleep, where you seemed powered by some sort of adrenaline machine, and where nothing seemed more precious than that little baby.
I suppose most of that never goes away. I’m thankful for that. For the girls. For the baby on the way. For my family and friends. For all of it.