mamamoons and a minivan

May 28, 2007

For Mother's Day, I got a minivan. Sort of. I had to convince Jeremy that it wasn't the lamest idea ever and that it really didn't matter who thought we were cool anymore. We deserved a little bit of comfort. So we got one and it's awesome and now he loves it. Check out pictures of it (and our babies) at www.flickr.com/photos/ayleencita. Driving it around this week has made me think of how much my life has changed, how my priorities have shifted, and how being "cool" now has a meaning that is not at all associated with the kind of car I drive.

All alone, without family in town or consistent help, the first six months of these babies' lives were the most challenging months of my life. Most days, I sat in an arm chair with little nurslings in my arms (and watched way too much television) while the world outside my door seemed to blossom into spring. Talk about being left out. In retrospect, we probably should have high-tailed it to Miami and accepted my family's help. It would certainly have been less isolating. But I'm proud of us for sticking it out. Having gotten through the last 7 months, I really feel like there's nothing I can't do...like the sky is the limit and we can do anything. And I'm especially proud of Jeremy for working his ass off to support us, and for being a thoughtful and gentle father to his babies. There's no sweeter sight than the grins that explode on their faces when he comes home from work.

So after months of exposing the ugly underbelly of new mamahood, I think I'm finally done with the wild-eyed exhaustion and embarrassing emotional outbursts. Thank the Lord. I was really starting to lose my mind. These days, my kids and I spend hours playing and singing and swimming and napping and eating. It's awesome. I'm starting to understand the bittersweet nostalgia with which parents view the passage of time. They really DO grow so fast. Soon my babies won't be babies anymore. And I'm going to have to start watching my mouth, and teaching them to walk then run then climb, and figuring out how to balance discipline with free will, manners with honesty.

This lady told me the other day that new parents have it all wrong. We have the impression that we're able to mold these babies into the people we wish we'd become. But raising kids isn't at all like molding a lump of clay. She said it's more like being handed a jagged rock and an emery board. They come into this world with their own ideas and direction, and the most you can hope for is to soften the hard edges. I'm not really sure what that means but it's been stuck in my head. Maybe I just like it because it means that I'm not 100% responsible for who they become. Or, like a mama friend said when I told her about the clay/rock metaphor, she said we're the lump of clay and they mold us. I like that. I feel softer already.