Should Be Sleeping

I should be sleeping, but I'm not. Instead, I'm sitting in the kids' bedroom holding Firstborn's hand as he sleeps. This is the most memorable part of my day.

If you look back almost exactly a year ago on this blog you'll notice that what I'm about to say and what I've already said are quite parallel. Basically, it's the same story, we moved, life happens, and everybody gets sicks.

But, this time it feels like everybody is staying sick. Oh, one might recover from whatever ailment it is plaguing them, but rest assured by next week it's mutated into something completely different and is being passed around like the latest comic book. Within the past three weeks both Firstborn and Secondborn have had strep throat. This was followed by a serious bout with RSV for the latter.

At first, she was on breathing treatments every four hours round the clock along with some talk of a stay in the hospital. I slept on the floor of their room for several days to be able to give the round the clock treatments. But I'm relieved to report that she's doing much better and we've been able to let up on the breathing treatments somewhat.

Because of the sickness we've all been at home much more than we'd like. A severe case of the Island Happy has set in and we're all a bit wound tight. Fortunately, Firstborn has been able to rejoin his preschool class twice a week. Yet, I fear that's not enough.

He's held my complete attention for for such a great length of time that he's taken issue with the lack I've been able to give him of late. You see, Secondborn wishes me to die an early death. I can think of no other way to sum it up. I've spoke of how she is the daytime to his night. I've described how completely opposite of one another they are. And, yet, they are so much like their gendered parent, it's unbelievable.

Not only does the boy look identical to his father's baby and childhood pictures, but the girl to mine. And, it isn't just limited to looks. Their personalities seem to mirror those of each respected, as well.

Firstborn is reserved, bashful, if you will. Once you engage him, and often it takes a great deal of coaxing, he has the time of his short lived life. Secondborn knows no fear. To say she is spirited and independent is somewhat the understatement. They truly are the equivalent of each of us in a most frightening and unusual way.

All that being said, I'm having to give Secondborn a great deal more attention than I ever did Firstborn at this age. In fact, it's almost impossible to take my eyes off her for fear of finding her running up and down the length of the formal dining room table......again. Or, climbing the floor to ceiling blinds as she did in our old house.....before she could walk.

Firstborn has had a difficult transition with this move. He's had a difficult time with the lack of attention I'm able to give him at this point. And, quite frankly, I'm having a difficult time with him.

He's not being a bad child. He's being a three and a half year old who's having trouble adjusting to many new things in his ever changing environment. It's me that seems to behaving as a bad child. I'm ashamed of how much alone time I've been craving. I'm ashamed of how overwhelmed I've become by his constant need for attention, my approval, my...my...my love.

And, it's when I finally have a moment of clarity when Secondborn isn't trying to scale the washing machine by way of whatever's at hand, that I realize how much his happiness depends upon my loving approval.

He's had it all along. For so long. And, then when I get bogged down with the reality of sick children, sick family, moving, settling in, but not really settling in because we're only here temporarily, insomnia like I've never experienced before, and a child who is hell bent on scaling Mt. Everest by age thirteen, I get lost. I get lost in the roar of the immediate and I can't hear the pleas of my dearest, darling, boy, "Mommy, watch me! Watch me!"

What shakes me to my core is looking back to one of the most beautiful faces I'll ever know with utmost attention and a little hand rubbing my arm saying, "It gonna be okay, Mommy. You're my best friend and I love you de whole day wong, ebry day."

How did I get this far from centered? I don't know. How do I get centered again? And, by that I mean, how do I get back to enjoying absolutely every waking and, not just the sleeping moments of my children?

I miss having fun with my children. I mean, really enjoying each moment with them. I know as I type these words there will be at least twelve mothers out there saying to themselves, "Enjoy these days, because they go by much too fast."

I know these days are limited and precious. And, I can see brighter days ahead. I know they are there. How can there not be brighter days ahead with a best friend like Firstborn? But, tell me, how can I be so blind to them right now?