Thursday, October 28, 2010

I never imagined what would matter...

Ever since I met Mike we've always played this little game. Did you ever imagine? and insert little things that our "growing up" self never would have imagined, or wished for, but which in the end, are a dream come true. One of my favorites was while I was taking a bath with a little baby Tyler and asked Mike if he could dump in more olive oil. He carted out the big jug of olive oil and stood beside the tub and said, "How much? A couple of glugs?" That was certainly a "we never imagined" moment. Another would be when we "lube" the kiddos up after baths now, we use coconut oil. They LOVE it, and it's good for them, so they eat it while we spread it all over their hair and body. It's gotten a little extreme though where we have to basically battle with their little greased down bodies to get the bucket of coconut oil away from them. We have frequent discussions about not eating too much "yummy" because it needs to go on your tummy too! Never imagined that. Love it though.

I never imagined the gut wrenching nausea that could grip me at the thought of not having these two. Of losing them, or of them somehow finding their way to another persons home instead of ours when they were babies. It's like PTSD for an event that never even happened. On Oprah the other day there was a family on. More correctly just a mother and father. The mother was hit from behind by an 18 wheeler and all 3 of their children were killed. I sat there dumbfounded, crying, trying to shake the remote the right way so I could change the channel. I couldn't even watch. I know these bad things happen, but I just couldn't even process their palpable grief. They said the only thing that got them through was a pact they made with each other that when they would lay down at night, neither one would sneak off and kill themselves. That is about what it would take. I could get through for Mike, but if he didn't make me...I'm not sure. It's amazing how these little people come into our hearts, they push all our buttons, they make us rip our hair out and wish we could pluck off all our own eyebrows hair by hair, but in the next breath the very thought of trying to live without's unthinkable.

Like many mothers and fathers out there, I'm sure that no one could love their children with the intensity that I love mine. No one. Just like every other parent that feels just like me. But rationally I know that other parents love their kids in the same all consuming I love mine. So I just put this out there, because I actually let this thought pass my head about once or a 100 times a day. When you are ready to yell, ready to put them in TO, ready to...whatever. Does it MATTER? Does it really matter, or does it only matter right now?

The boys like to help Mike make dinner. I think this is excellent training for them on how men do a lot of domestic work. While Mike makes dinner, they will typically wash a dish or a cup. For the entire 30 or more minutes. One item. The other night Mike (after a long day at work) had enough and told them they needed to shut the water off. I (yelling from the living room, because I wasn't about to get off the couch...wheel of fortune was on) said, "Why? It won't be long till you miss the times when they would play in the sink while you made dinner. You can't get that back when they're 16!" He turned the water back on and gave them both a scrub brush and a cup.

Later that night he thanked me. A little water? Not a big deal. Sure we're Americans and taking it for granted and all that, was water. Yes, we were wasteful, but was it worth making them cry, or do you just pay the minimally higher water and sewer bill knowing that you have one plate that is sparkling clean and two very, very happy little helpers? Eventually we'll teach them about not wasting water and all that, but for right now? They are 1 and 2, and cooking with their Daddy. Know what matters, and what only matters right now.

1 comment:

Marci said...

I have had to face the fear of losing my child head on. It is completely nauseating for me every time I think of it. But, honestly, the thing I cannot think about is Spencer losing his brother. That I have to block from my brain. That is too much. I hope and pray I am never in that situation, but I am also thankful I have been given this place in life. I appreciate my kids more, I cherish more, I make more memories, because we never know how much time we have to cherish and make memories.

And, in a sense, I feel like I am luckier than the family on Oprah because I have had time to prepare for this possibility. I cannot imagine waking in a hospital and being told my children are gone...