And suddenly, the twins are two years old.
Gone are my tiny helpless preemies who seemed to do nothing but cry all day; replaced by two walking, talking, little human beings who are actually capable of sleeping through the night *fist pump*.
Gone are the days of going through numerous feeding bottles a day; now they more or less just eat all day.
Gone are the days when they were basically just cute paperweights who barely reacted to our antics; now they can fully interact with us and articulate what they want (cheese! yogut!) and what they don’t want (ayaw! ayaw!)
Gone are the days when I would regularly gravitate to the infant section at the department store; now everything there seems so small and I would wander through the aisles, looking wistful and realizing that I have to move to the general kid section to get what I need.
In those first few weeks after the twins were born, I would look forward to this period a thousand times a day. This would get easier, I’d tell myself. And it took a while, but at some point, it did get easier. And now we’re here. We made it.
Veteran mothers will probably laugh and say ha, you ain’t seen nothing yet. If you thought the newborn days were difficult, wait till you get a full dose of the terrible twos or threes. Wait ‘til you get to four! Five! Puberty! Gosh, puberty!
But never mind that. We’re here now. Gone are they newborn days. But also, gone is the helpless, weepy first-time mother; in her place, somebody a little hardened, a little more experienced, a little more capable, a little more forgiving of herself.
We’re here now, and we are grateful. Happy birthday my darlings.