I think it is pretty obvious I've got the old nostalgia bug going lately. What, with all my posts about my babies as babies and what not. I keep watching old videos, flipping through old pictures, trying to remember small details and big moments alike. I have to say that ever since I started keeping this blog almost two years ago, my memory has become even sharper. I'm fortunate to have this as my forever-baby-book, especially since I never really got hooked on doing the old baby book for either of my children. This blog has followed me through Holden's entire life, and helped me hold tight to Jackson's toddler-hood. But it's my memories of Jackson's infancy that escape me the most, before the blog. We walked around in a pseudo-fog for the first 9 months of his life, exhausted by a baby who did not sleep. ever. So my memories of that time are also on the foggy side. So I reach for them, far into the depths of my brain, trying to recall it all.
I suppose it is the baby-clock going off in me again, one that I have to permanently put on snooze because, well, let's just put it this way -- there are no more babies for us. I don't want any more babies, honestly - I'm beyond blessed and happy with the ones I have been graced with. But somebody forgot to tell my body that two was our number. It seems to be tick-tick-ticking again. I just keep reaching for the baby moments, just beyond my grasp. And trying to retain them as best I can.
I have a few friends who do not have children. Perhaps they never plan to have them - I'm not sure. I have never broached the topic with them, it is so personal. But I wonder if they feel the maternal clock in the least or if it is silent in them, never ticking. If they do not yearn to feel a baby growing inside them, the first gentle nudges turning quickly into full on kicks and jabs that feel bruised. I wonder if there is no tug emotionally to nurse a newborn child in the quiet of dawn when all the world is snoozing except you and that wide-eyed infant. Or to snuggle with a being all but 7 or 8 pounds, who completely depends on you for life, love, sustenance. Or all the other millions of feelings, emotions, moments, and touches that make a woman a mother. I just wonder.
Then of course reality hits. The boys start wrestling. The toys get fought over (and then broken). Dishes pile up in the sink. Shawn and I forget what the other one looks like. Food gets thrown to the floor. The house turns into a pigsty 10 minutes after I vacuum. It's 8pm and I didn't brush my teeth all day. You know, that kind of stuff -- the stuff that knocks the ticking mommy-clock off the nightstand. These two gorgeous boys are all the children I want or can handle so knock it off maternal clock and make yourself useful -- like helping me clean the kitchen!