Short, Sweet, & Surreal

Key backstory for this post: I am now the mother of twins. They are currently about 6 weeks old.

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I keep catching myself rocking back and forth, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. It’s the movement of pushing a stroller back and forth when one is attempting to stand in place though one’s infant twins want to stay in motion. It’s the bounce of rocking a stubbornly curious baby to rest, of tricking him into finally closing his eyes and giving in to the lure of sleep. But whenever I catch myself, the stroller is out of my hands. The babies are sleeping or being held by someone else. It seems my body has learned to do something new, and isn’t interested in giving that new skill a rest. Or maybe it’s that, now that my hands are free for a minute, that extra weight set down, I can commence with soothing myself into some semblance of rest.

People keep on telling me that this time goes by so fast. Strangers often tell me this on the street or at the department store. While at Nordstrom with a friend, an older woman in a matched jewelry set did a full 360 spin in front of me, then looked me right in the eye. “That’s how quickly it’s going to go by,” she said.

The other thing friends and strangers keep telling me is that they don’t remember this time in their own children’s lives. This latter observation is definitely more disconcerting; knowing that the time will pass and I’ll be nostalgic for it encourages me to try and be present and treasure it as I am able. But it’s a surreal feeling to be living through the craziest months of my life, all the while knowing there is a distinct possibility I will forget them.

To be honest, I’m highly dubious that I will forget. Then again, I regularly assume that I will remember the items on my shopping list, or the fact that I’ve written a shopping list. Perhaps it will all be a sleep-deprived blur. It’s just that, in my experience, nothing solidifies a memory like novelty, and every day of the past 6+ weeks has held some kind of new milestone, for better and worse. First overnight hospital stay, first major surgery. First breaths, first bottles, first outfits, first outings. As repetitive as the days can get, few go by without a first of some variety.

I should be writing them all down — then I’d remember for sure. But my hands are rarely free. Even getting one hand free is a challenge at many times of day. It’s why I haven’t written sooner, though there is so much — and so much more — to say. But maybe my new thing can be keeping things as short and sweet as Gloria and Graham Flaxbart. As with all things, time will tell.

photo by “Aunt Katie” Schubert <3