There are times I am sitting on the couch with myBrest Friend secured around my waist, Dean latched onto a boob, and Isabella sitting as close to me as she can without actually sitting on me with her thumb in her mouth and her other hand seeking out the seam on my shirt’s collar that I am pretty sure my heart will explode at the wonder of being completely at home with two little ones using my body for sustenance or comfort.

There are times Dean is crying (screeching really) because he is hungry or has just crapped himself and Isabella is yelling out, “I have to go potty.  I have to go potty!” that I am pretty sure I will lose my ever loving mind.  How is it possible they can sync up their evacuations?

There are times we are in public and a sweet elderly couple will comment on our beautiful children, Isabella and Dean, that it makes me remember to slow down and really take in the splendor of their infancy and toddlerdom because all too soon I will be the wrinkled lady commenting on someone else’s beauties.

There are times I am so exhausted that I want to hop in my car, check into a hotel, and not come out for a week.

There are times I am consumed by horrible thoughts of accidents, childhood cancer, death that I can hardly breathe.

There are times Dean smiles at me so big or Isabella walks by on her way to her next adventure and shouts, “I love you, Mom!” that I want to stop time and live in a world where I am always their center.

There are times I am wracked by the guilt of not staying home with my babies that I can only hope and pray I am the only one who will be scarred for life.

There are times Isabella and Dean are sleeping that I sneak into their rooms to touch their soft heads, kiss their chubby cheeks, and say a quick prayer of thanks for being entrusted with their lives.

There are times being a parent just seems too much: too much poop, too much snot, too much barf, too much laundry, too much whining, too much correcting and correcting over and over, too much pushing aside what I really want to do to play the “castle game” or once again whip out a boob, but then I contrast that with a life without kids and what I come up with is a life that is too empty: too empty of sweet kisses and hugs, too empty of impromptu snuggles, too empty of that new baby smell, too empty of watching a child wake up to the wonder of the world, too empty of watching your little one bravely hurl herself off the side of the pool all the while trusting you will catch her and help her once more return to safety, too empty of little coos and his little head burrowing into your shoulder, too empty of seeing your parents hold and marvel at your children.

3 Responses to “On Being a Parent”
  1. Melissa says:

    YES to all of this!!!

  2. JENNIFER DEANS says:

    I WAS GOOGLING MY NAME AND MY NAME IS JENNIFER DEANS ALSO AND THE PICTURE OF YOU IN THE HOSPITAL AFTER GIVING BIRTH IS IDENTICAL TO MINE. I MEAN IT REALLY LOOKED LIKE ME. AT FIRST I WAS GOING TO COMPLAIN BECAUSE NO ONE HAS THAT PIC OF ME. AMAZING HOW MUCH WE LOOK ALIKE AND HOW WEIRD IS IT THAT WE ARE BOTH JENNIFER DEANS. SORRY BUT IT BLEW ME AWAY TAKE CARE IF YOU EVERY WANT TO SEE THE PICTURE I HAVE LET ME KNOW. I GUESS WE FOUND THAT ONE PERSON THEY ALWAYS SAY IS YOUR TWIN. I LIVE IN FLORIDA AND I AM A NURSE, SINGLE MOM TO 2 ONE BOY 2 YRS AND ONE GIRL 11. HAPPY HOLIDAYS. JENNIFER DEANS

  3. JENNIFER DEANS says:

    MY NAME IS JENNIFER DEANS ALSO I AM 35 I WAS GOOGLING MY NAME AND WAS LOOKING AT THE PICTURE THAT POP UP OF U IN THE HOSPITAL. AT FIRST I WAS FURIOUS I THOUGHT IT WAS ME. WE LOOK IDENTICAL FUNNY JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW YOU HAVE A TWIN WITH THE SAME NAME HOW FUNNY. TAKE CARE JENNIFER DEANS

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