All Aboard The Parenting Train!: Backtracking and Bouncing Forward

After a long hiatus, I had originally planned to pick up my blogging pace by catching up on the fun and festivities we enjoyed over the holiday season. I managed to finish a long overdue draft I'd started on Planning and (Almost) Executing the Perfect Twin 1st Birthday, but after that, I found myself revising and revisiting the same old drafts I'd started without having anything resembling a good flow. Seems like the long break dried up my creative juice reserves, and I was seriously lacking the enthusiasm to retell our adventures with the same passion and eagerness that I had before.

I took that *in a rut* moment to indulge in a little self-reflection while I reviewed old blog posts. Mostly because I'm nostalgic, partially because I was seeking motivation to continue writing, but also because I realize that our life here changes drastically in intervals of just a few months, and it's interesting to look back and see how much we've grown, both parents and children alike. What surprised me most was noticing how what seemed like a lifetime ago happened in just under a 2-year time span.

I relived my pregnancy woes and delivery mishaps in How To Completely Foil Your Birth Plan. It reminded me of how lucky my husband and I are that we didn't have to experience the worst-case-scenarios some parents are faced with in the delivery room. It made me take pause and look down at the sleeping two-year old curled up beside me with his foot propped up on the corner of my laptop and - BAM! Supernovas exploded in my chest, an atomic collision of the exquisite love, attachment and unyielding devotion we have for our children. It truly is so powerful, it makes you suck your breath in and put your hand to your chest, all Fred Sanford-style. Best. High. EVER.

I revisited our first bouts with sick infants in When Viruses Strike: Welcome to the S.U.C.K. (Sick Unruly Crying Kids), where I used adjectives such as "grisly," and descriptives like "full-blown crisis situation". HA! Three sick kids can rock your boat, for sure - but my *newbness* rendered me as dramatic as a teenage girl when it came to recanting it. Several snot-nosed, congested chests later and I barely flinch when they take on a cold. I am now Master of the Saline Bulb and rectal temperature readings no longer make me grimace. Since then we had a major toddler accident that involved a split lip, enough blood to soak a super tampon, and a scar that is still slightly visible on my son's precious face. Did I cry? Of course. A mother can't help but feel anguish at the sight of her child in pain. But it didn't throw me into full-fledged alarmist mode where I ripped out or cushioned every sharp right angle in our home. I've learned that crisis hurdles like that are best dealt with swiftly, patched up accordingly, and then you move on with the quickness so that you don't turn into the Smother Mother who constantly coddles and overprotects her children. Germs and viruses are a part of life. Accidents are going to happen. That said, the influenza strain this season has left 41 50 people in my state dead - so I've avoided taking the kids to shopping malls or grocery stores until this mild epidemic passes. There is indeed a fine line between exercising caution and becoming totally agoraphobic during flu season. I like to think we have erred on the smart, cautious side.

It's been six months since I wrote Co-Sleeping, A Year in Review:, and my stance hasn't changed, even though the size of my son's feet and the downright hog-like behavior he partakes in when sleeping horizontally between my husband and I has changed dramatically. We still talk about transitioning him to his toddler bed, but it's mostly just a bunch of hot air we blow off when we wake up in the morning with bruised ribs, having been robbed of both our pillows and our covers. We feel like we'll know when the time is right when it's convenient for him, not for us. A year and a half of co-sleeping, despite the myths, hasn't 1) ruined our sex life, 2) made our son any less independent, or 3) posed any sort of psychological issues with any of us. I know for a fact that I'm going to miss him when he decides on his own that he wants to sleep in his own bed - with a little cajoling from me and dad, of course. We definitely don't want a five or six year-old between us, and pretty soon our twin daughters are going to insist that our oversized King bed looks more comfy and inviting than the confines of their cribs. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

I blogged about organizing kid clutter, when I had no idea how much worse it would get after getting a couple of Christmas's and birthdays behind us. We still take every opportunity to be silly, mostly because we're dorks, partially because it helps keep us sane. I still have moments of self-loathing when I look down and see that my abdomen is quartered into horizontal rolls, as opposed to quadrants of flat muscle.

But I must say, out of all the topics I'd covered on our experiences as parents, the Litmus Test of Parenting and Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This had to be the two biggest instances I opined about that today's perspective completely squashes. They don't grow out of driving you crazy. You just grow used to that brand of crazy and it no longer phases you to be in that state.

Revisiting the words of your past (and not so recent past!) can give you a fresh perspective on the days to come. For me, it makes me feel wiser, more seasoned, and affords me the opportunity to take jabs at myself for the Epic Parenting Fails I now consider to be innocent rookie mistakes.

We're excited about the year ahead of us, as we've got huge plans ahead of us which involves (another) massive remodel of our home, a crash course in early education methods, and plenty of time to stress about the two until we get to that point.

Till then ... enjoy our Halloween and Christmas photos (that are so overdue and outdated due to gross neglect of blog posting that it's no longer relevant, but rather a shameless plug on how freakin' adorable our youngsters are)