Time really is ethereal – something simply in the eye of the beholder. When we began our journey, three months took a lifetime; it seems surreal that it’s now been three years.
Three years ago doctors talked to me in hushed tones of couched optimism. I mourned the loss of what should have been instead of celebrating your arrival. But this year I looked forward to Memorial Day. It’s time to look forward to all of your milestones, instead of back on the ones we missed.
We once celebrated each gram gained. Today you proudly toddle to the bathroom announcing the need to “check your pounds.” You’re growing up in a hurry.
I drove you to school today. As we waited at a stoplight, I looked back at you. There were no longer babies there; there were two big boys, looking out the window lost in their own thoughts about life (and likely Cheerios).
In three years we’ve made the journey from if to when. From then to now. I can’t believe you’re three. You’ve always been in such a rush, please don’t feel the need to grow up so quickly.
This past year has been one of my favorite ages – watching you discover the world around you. But it is not lost on me how much you have taught me as well. Namely, patience. (Who ever thought that would be possible.)
Instead of frustration or panic, you’ve shown me laughter – to truly appreciate the headaches and hilarity involved in raising tiny twins. You’ve taught me perspective.
Some nights you ask to snuggle in our rocking chair before bed for a bit. And far be it from me to refuse such an eloquent request. Your chest rising and falling against mine as you continuously breathe – in and out, forever – as you drift off to dreamland will never grow old, even as you do. It never ceases to take me back to our first introduction to one another (on the outside) back when you were my tiny 2-pounders.
Today I routinely use phrases such as, “We do not use our fork to catapult our dinner across the dining room” and “Cinderella is not a baseball bat.”
You are typical boys.
Yet, not typical in any sense of your journey.
Destroy – you are the energy in the spectacle around us. Search – you see the spirit and meaning within. Search out what makes world turn round. Destroy the obstacles that stand in your way.
There is so much more to discover, so many things for me to teach you and see the world for the first time again – through your eyes. Baseball, soccer, movies, books. Soon I’ll sit with you before bed and begin to read Harry Potter. I think you’ll like it.
Chapter One: The Boy[s] Who Lived
Keep to your quest. Keep going. There are still miles to go. To infinity and beyond.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.