Falling in Love

I'm falling in love with my kids. I've loved them from the moment I heard they're heartbeats, but now I'm falling head over heels in love with them. If these are my confessions, then I must come clean and admit that being a parent of twins wasn't very glamorous for the first two years, and even less so for the first few months I was at home with them.

I loved them, cared for them, taught them, bathed them, changed them, held them, hugged them, kissed them and had moments when I was overcome with the joy of being a parent, but the Good Lord knows, there were many days I didn't necessarily like them. It would gnaw at me sometimes, because I'd look at Nora and she'd be all gooey, affection radiating from her eyes like heat waves on a desert road. Not only was she meeting their needs, but she was wrapped up in them, entangled in a way I could only observe, connected in a way I could only envy. But now, I'm starting to feel the vines of Ben and Emma wrap around my heart...and I like it. It's like I'm finally in on the secret.

I feel like Bruce Willis in the Sixth Sense, only I see real little people taking shape in my kids bodies. He just saw dead people. They're blossoming, developing faster than the next iphone (but without the defects), and it's cold water in the face clear to me now that every interaction I have with them molds that development.

There have been times when Nora was excited for them to wake up from nap. For so long I equated that with being excited about releasing a badger from a cage after working all morning to contain it. But now I find myself a little antsy as nap time draws to a close; I get their juice ready, set out their shoes, prepare the diaper bag, make a plan for an outing...you know, all the stuff you do when you're falling in love.