It Flies It Does

Today my baby Jake is exactly 21 months.

I realized earlier that means he'll be two years old in just three months.

Two years old?

*TWO*???

I wish there was a new way to phrase it that hasn't already been used, but honestly, where has the time gone?

I still remember driving to the hospital when I was in labor with him. (A little scary then. Pretty funny now. It involved a phone call from Ryan to his Mom, a nurse, to ask what to do in case he had to deliver our baby on the side of the road.)

I still remember the quiet hours in the hospital room, just he and I playing lullabies for my new little Jacob, admiring at his sweet face, and even what the light coming through the window looked like.

I remember all the insecurity of being a new mother of two, trying to figure out how to take care of two little ones, how I had to learn to accept the fact that I couldn't (always) do two things at once! The anxiety I felt when I had to leave the house alone with both boys for the first time...how it didn't go so well and I thought "How will I ever do this? How do other mothers ever do this?" (Still looking for answers to that one, but the one answer I have come up with: Just embrace the chaos.)

But in all the busy-ness of parenting two children, most of the days of these last two years are much more blurry than I would like to admit. They've passed and blurred and faded much faster than I remember them doing with my first child. Though I know its not unusual, I feel guilty about it. That has probably been one of my biggest struggles since becoming a mother of two...the lack of time to sit and soak it all in with your child. I remember with Thomas I would sit holding him for hours when I didn't have to, I would watch him sleeping all the time. I didn't really worry about rushing off the first moment I could to do everything else possible while he slept. I probably took hundreds of photos of Thomas sleeping, whereas I only have a handful of Jacob. I haven't been as good at *lingering* with Jacob, enjoying those moments. I want to remember forever how he looks when he's perfectly peaceful, off somewhere in dreamland. And now, with this third one on the way, my little girl, I can't help but wonder how hard it might me to just sit for a few minutes and enjoy her newness, her littleness, her delicateness. I want to be able to do that with all my kids! To experience all the phases of their lives, without ever being distracted, without forgetting so easily. But I know it isn't possible. I'm only one person, I can't live three lives, four lives! I wish I could.
Jake is my baby.

I honestly struggle a little bit accepting that he won't be my baby anymore, my "littlest," as I sometimes call him.

He'll be a big brother soon.

He'll have to be patient sometimes when his baby sister needs me more.

He won't be my baby anymore.

And very soon, he'll be two.

And it will just go quicker from there. That's the thing about time....it just gains momentum, it doesn't slow up, it doesn't eventually stay steady, it just goes faster.

I've said many times, I hope they have home videos in heaven. Because no matter how hard I try to document my children's lives in this life...and believe me, I try!...I can't possibly capture it all. No collection of photos or videos will ever truly be able to show me everything. I will miss things. I will forget things. There will be funny moments, poignant moments, common but priceless moments, that will fade eventually with the imperfections of human memory.

But I just can't accept that.

So if I can, during life eternal, I will spend days and hours and lifetimes reliving again and again all the sweet (and even not-so-sweet) days of my babies' lives.