"The First Six Months Are The Hardest"

You get a ton of unsolicited advice when you are pregnant. 

Especially when it is twins...twin mamas and people who are connected with twins come out of the woodwork to help you.

The one piece of advice I clung desperately to was

"The first six months are the hardest" 

or the variation....

"If you can survive the first six months..."

Well.....

I thought I had made it through the wilderness so to speak. 

The first year was difficult but not as hard as I thought it would be.

Basically feeling like super mom.

And then 15 months hit.

Like a tornado.

A big, crying, tantrum throwing, WALKING (only one of them), talking, biting, yelling, kissing, waving tornado. 

This is all in the midst of an insanely busy month of work.

One act, a big ole musical 

and then one act again. 

Plus Mr. Boo is in a musical himself so our family dinners sound more like production meetings or calendar meetings. 

But I digress....

 the first six months were basically a walk in the park.

Sure, for the first three months we were waking up every three hours and feeding them but we were also on maternity leave for 8 of those weeks. 

A BREEZE.

Sometimes I just want to sleep forever and never wash another load of laundry or teach another class. Just nap forever. 

Or run away to Neverland.

Sometimes the Mom Guilt is so overwhelming I don't know what to do
(more on this later).
Sometimes when people say "I don't know how you do it" I want to burst into tears and say 

"I don't either".

Sometimes it feels like I am being held together by old fishing line. 

But then....

I see Finley walk to communion for the first time guided only by his daddy (not holding his hand).

I see Fletcher cover his eyes with his hands and wait to play peek a boo and laugh when it happens.

I see them hug each other. 

I hear them singing and talking to each other before bed. 

I see the people at our church embrace them and talk to them like people.

I hear "uh oh" as they drop their cups for the millionth time and even though it is the MILLIONTH time it is still so freaking adorable. 

They call me "ma". And kiss me 

And my heart is filled.

And all that other self pity tired crap goes away.

Because this is true love. 

And it is worth it.

And someday I will sleep again. I will be able to be amazing like my family and babysit for my grandchildren so they can get a break. 

I guess really what I am trying to say is....don't cling to advice....take it but don't hope it is the answer.....except for maybe this because it is so true:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8