such a freak

Last week Kevin and I went to Vegas, what a trip!  We had 2 days with several friends which was such a good time, and then 3 days just the two of us.  Well, 1/2 of Monday and Friday was spent flying, but we were still away from home, without the responsibilities of work, family, house, etc.  On the flights I read a book each way, it was luxurious.  

While in Vegas we enjoyed the strip, the restaurants, and played some games.  We rented a car and took a day trip to see the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam - yay a cross-off for my bucket list!  It was amazing.  

That being said, I never need to go to Vegas again.  If friends wanted to go and we could afford it I might, but I'm too much of an East Coast girl.  Also, it's not called 'sin city' for nothing.  No place for children, that is for sure.  The smoke alone everywhere was suffocating.

Now that I gave my 2 cents and a quick recap of my vacay, here is why I am a freak.

So, I know that I am sentimental.  Emotional.  My girls getting older has been pushing me to my limit though.  I can barely stand it.  I am grieving them not being itty-bitties anymore, even though that was no walk in the park.  When I look at pics of them from when they were younger, I choke back this rock in my throat, I get filled with so many feelings.  I wish I could do it over, do it better.  Taylor had so many needs, I didn't know how to help her...I wish I could go back and do more for her.  Be a better mommy.  I wish I could be a better mommy to Bailey too...the poor thing spent hours with her little dollies or books or tv on the floor by herself, as I rocked and nursed and cried right along with a mad little Taylor.  When Taylor was 3 1/2 - 4 and Bailey was 5 1/2 - 6 yrs old, life definitely started getting more manageable.  Taylor was in private therapy and then accepted into the special services in our school district, which made a world of difference.  Bailey's bowel issues (sounds benign but our days for at least 4 years revolved around her heiney - medicine, enimas, stool samples...and a therapist to try to talk my kid into pooping) started improving.  Truly everyday still brought many challenges, but I didn't dread Kevin going to work in the morning...and I even tried to have the house straightened up and a hot meal for him when he got home.  A step up from him walking in the door, dropping his briefcase to catch 2 children while his wife...possibly in the same sweatpants that he saw her in yesterday...ran to our room to turn on the tv and drown out the sounds of little ones needing, wanting, needing. 

I love feeling more capable.  I love feeling like I have some of 'me' back.  I love enjoying my children, not surviving them.  But I have this ache in my heart to hold those little girls again, to hear that baby babble and feel their chubby hands touch my face.  They are growing older...and soon, I know, growing away from me.  How am I going to handle that, if I'm already acting nutty now?  I still have so much of them...here I am still a stay-at-home mom and this summer, we have spent many days the three of us doing fun stuff.  I am SO thankful for that!  It's not all roses, I lose my temper, they argue with each other and disobey me, they still make big messes and throw big fits.  But they are mine, they are young children to me still.  So if I am feeling like this now, what am I going to do when they get even older?

A part of me would love to have another child.  But Kevin told me a few years ago, and I haven't forgotten it because it was probably dead-on...he said, "you don't want another baby, you just want baby Bailey back."  Not that I wouldn't want Taylor as a baby back (um...), but he means the life I had when Bailey was little.  She was such a good baby, and I had no responsibilities other than her care.  If I could do it over I'd love to have some friends too - I was so lonely then with no MOPS in my life!  But I truly enjoyed motherhood and other than her CF diagnosis (albeit a HUGE adjustment that first year) life was more simple.  When Tatie came, stress was overwhelming and I feel like I missed out on her infancy.  I feel so badly about that - I wish I could have helped her stop crying.  She was such a pretty baby.  

All this to say, I am telling you that these children have done a number on me.  And I am praying I can keep my head up so they don't see me being a nutjob and have to undergo years of therapy bc of an oppressive mama.  I just want them to enjoy their childhoods.  I want to enjoy it too, not fear for when it's over.