I woke up at 3 a.m. this morning, courtesy of a screaming child. Destroy was hungry. (To be clear, Destroy is always hungry – he just vocalizes this point at the top of his lungs every two hours and 45 minutes.) Jon stumbled downstairs to warm up some milk while I fumbled my way into the nursery trying to soothe an angry baby. As Destroy screamed, Search woke up and decided that he wouldn’t mind something to nosh on either. After their uncivilized-hour-of-the-night snack, Destroy fell back fast asleep. Search, on the other hand, decided this would be a wonderful time to socialize. He looked up from the crib at me with wide eyes, “Let’s start the day!”
Three years ago today, I woke up around the same time. I lay in my hotel bed staring up at the ceiling thinking, “Let’s start the day!”
At 6:15 this morning, I asked Gramma J if she’d wander the house with Search. He calms in our arms as long as we’re moving around. Three years ago, I bounced into my mom’s hotel room around 6 a.m., unable to stop moving because I was so excited.
As I tried to convince the muppets to eat all of their morning bottle, I looked down at my sons and reflected on how much my life is changing. I cuddled them a little closer and thought how much in love I am with my boys. Three years ago, I force fed myself a piece of peanut butter toast (so Aunt J wouldn’t shove a string cheese down my throat – PROTEIN) and excitedly wondered what my new life with my new name would bring. I smiled when I thought of how in love I was.
As I changed the twins diaper after breakfast, I laughed – those newborn-size diapers are getting awfully snug on our chunky monkeys. Three years ago, I laughed as my girlfriends tried to cinch me into a dress that was too big due an overzealous workout plan.
I dressed Search and Destroy in outfits with cute little feetsies so they’d be comfortable in the slightly chilly morning air. We slowly (carefully) descended the stairs as my boys started to cry. Three years ago, at 1 p.m., I slipped in a pair of patent leather white ballet flats – so I’d be comfortable on my feet throughout the day – and slowly began to walk down the aisle in the Mission. My dad cried as he held my arm; Jon was teary-eyed as he watched me walk toward him.
Three years ago today, Jon and I became a new little family. Now, three years later, our little family has doubled with our two additional trouble makers joining the fray. Trading calm quiet evenings at home for, well, more evenings at home that just may not always be quiet or calm is a dream come true.
Happy third anniversary Jon. Our wedding day was certainly an event to remember, but this may be my favorite anniversary. This year, and all the ones to come, the muppets are with us.