we've only just begun.....

Last week we were searching through countless VHS tapes looking for that obscure copy of 101 Dalmations when I came across a video labeled, “home movies, zoo, 1st birthday, christmas.” I decided to pop it in, just for fun, not expecting to see anything unusual or exciting. Chelsea being Chelsea, Ryan being Ryan, Olivia and Rebekah being Olivia and Rebekah. The kids went along with it too I think, under the guise that all of our home movies were produced by Walt Disney and this too would be a “magical adventure.” Amazing enough, however, there was a transformation. It started out simple enough, mommy still looked the same despite a dozen failed diet attempts, and daddy was still playing with all the camcorder features like a kid on Christmas day. We hadn’t changed much in the last two years. Rebekah (one of my two year old twins) though, while watching our memories, became very sad. At first it was discreet, just a little lip quiver and sad puppy eyes. By the time we got to the merry-go-round at the zoo, however, she had sprinted into deep heavy sobs, and by the time Christmas came around, she was distraught…..gasping between cries. Of course we were all in awe at what started this dramatic reaction, and turned off the t.v. when she sounded so upset, but that was the strange part. When we turned off the t.v., she cried harder….throwing herself onto the floor. It was like a car wreck she didn’t want to helplessly watch, but couldn’t forgive herself for turning away from. And Rebekah isn’t the emotional one, Olivia (her twin sister) is the sensitive hopeless romantic that transforms into a ball of snot and tears when mommy holds a dolly too closely. Of course shortly after the episode was over there were dishes to wash and laundry to do. I talked to my mom about it for a second later that night and we decided tossed around theories. Maybe the moment that she was watching WAS scary, and she just didn’t recognize it when she was in the moment. Maybe later when she was watching it she realized how scared she should have been. Or, maybe, she didn’t recognize herself and was jealous of all the attention mommy and daddy were giving that strange baby. I guess, because of all of the drama, I had watched the movie and made observations, but didn’t put much thought into what I had seen. I put the whole thing in my “that’s strange” shelf on the right side of my brain and continued on without giving it much thought.

Today, however, I awoke from my nap and all of a sudden that shelf in my brain had collapsed. I was dreaming about going to a barbeque we have planned this weekend. I was talking to my husband’s best friend’s wife, she’s expecting this month, and we were talking in my dream about the babies and how much they’ve grown since she had seen them last. I guess that conversation, in connection with Rebekah’s outburst the other day, and my observations that I never paid attention to—everything all came together.
I woke up startled, having to come to the computer and write down every thought in my revelation. In my epiphany. In the home movie the twins were just babies. There were snippets of them learning to walk, and short clips of them talking gibberish here and there. Of course they are sooo much different now. Olivia looked like a little boy with her short hair, and now her cascading curly ponytails almost reach her shoulders. And Rebekah, she didn’t have any hair at all in that video, and now I spend five minutes every morning putting it into spunky little ponytails that crown the top of her head. I remember seeing in the video how they were trying to walk to their daddy, with his legs outstretched they would both take one or two steps and then dive right into his belly, certain that he could catch them. And he laughed and giggled, without expecting any kind of different outcome. Now they run back and forth in races, each wanting to beat the other. And the jump. And skip. And hop. And dance.

Perhaps that is why Rebekah was so upset when she watched that movie, because they ARE different children. The children that I fix milk and apple juice for now aren’t the same ones that I nursed in the middle of the night when they were first home from the hospital. Olivia’s breath doesn’t always smell like corn, and their skin, although perfect, doesn’t always feel soft and squishy as they’ve grown into their lean toddler bodies, always on the move.

In my mind, as I was dreaming, I instantly realized that my babies were gone. And I became emotionally devastated. How could two people that I loved and adored SOOO much, people that I revolved my life around, disappear, and why didn’t I notice? When did it happen? Was it that day last year that I went to bed early when that migrane hit? Did it happen overnight on their 2nd birthday? Did they go to sleep babies and wake up toddlers? Emotionally it was like the death of my closest best friend, that I had conveniently forgotten about until I walked into the funeral parlor. I had such a sense of sorrow, it penetrated my heart, making me cry uncontrollably, for seemingly no good reason. All of a sudden Rebekah’s unexplainable outburst made sense. They aren’t gone physically for crying out loud, they are 300 feet away in their cribs finishing their naps. They won’t be out of their diapers or in big girl bed’s for a few months now. The revelation though, that they are gone reverberates in my mind, causing me to go on an insane search to “recreate” them. I’m afraid I will forget them, those babies that I didn’t notice disappear. That I won’t remember how Olivia used to growl in her deep voice, and Bekah used to crawl like a teeter totter using her fat little tummy as an axis. I am so scared that all of those memories and thoughts are going to be replaced with what they said and did today. Like it’s some kind of sophisticated military experiment to brainwash new mothers.

I don’t understand why I’ve become so emotionally attached to these children. My son Ryan, who will be five next month, asked me the other day when he would lose his teeth? Without even thinking I replied, “Not for a long time buddy….” And then I thought about it, that’s not true. He will be losing his teeth soon, not later. I guess by not starting him in kindergarten this year I was delaying in my mind that he was becoming a “big boy” but unfortunately he will age irregardless of the state’s mandatory cut off date. I guess he saw my sadness because he replied, “It’s ok mommy, my old teeth have seeds, so when I lose them they will plant the seeds and new teeth will grow.” Unfortunately that response only made my heart sadder. By the time he starts losing his teeth he will know the real reason, he won’t imagine creative explanations, and he won’t need me as much anymore.

I’ve never been the kind of mother that fears change or growth. I could never relate to those parents that cried on their kid’s first day of school, or became sad when they played in their first ballgame. I was always excited when they mastered new skills or said new things, it made me proud. I always smile and make a big deal of their accomplishments. It makes me happy when they learn new words and can tell me the things that are going through their little brains. Now though, because of this dream, this epiphany, my life will be forever changed. While I was being happy and oblivious to the world, they were changing, being replaced. For the rest of their childhood when they go to sleep I will make a conscious effort to grieve the loss of my babies and remember all of the little memories that my brain will hold…and in the morning when I wake up I will make an unconscious effort to fall in love with the new Chelsea, Olivia, Rebekah, and Ryan all over again, unsuspectingly replacing those little memories.

my new job

Last Monday (May 22nd) I started a new job. It’s 80% the same job really, but I was promoted to the lead operator instead of just an operator. It’s year round, so I don’t get the summers off. But I got a $2/hr raise and everyone/thing is getting more expensive. I knew eventually the time would come that I would have to work year round, but I was hoping to put it off longer, until the twins started school. Honestly though, there never would have been a “good” time. I started searching for this job when Chelsea was five, the summer before she started kindergarten. I realized that her “childhood” was over in a sense and the only time I had spent with her were those frustrating, exhausting hours before 6 pm and 9 pm, and that hadn’t been enough. I had paid off all of my bills and at the time, financially, I was in a good position, so I looked for more flexibility….hence, my job. I worked September til April I got the summer off to draw unemployment and play with Chelsea. Of course within 30 days my situation had changed, I had broken up with my three year boyfriend, and moved back in with my parents. And, shortly after that I became pregnant with Ryan. But he was due in the summer, when I was laid off, so it continued to be an arrangement that worked. I loved having my summers off to make up for some of the time I was at work and denied them during the year. I was truly lucky to have had that opportunity for all of the years that I did. That being said, everyone is getting more expensive. Last year I couldn’t even buy a present for Chelsea’s 9th birthday, because it fell in the month of August when we are out of unemployment and seriously struggling until September when I go back to work and my checks start coming in. I was raised in a family when we were constantly denied because we didn’t “have the money” and that wasn’t a legacy I wanted to continue. I didn’t want them to miss opportunities because we couldn’t afford it.

What’s been the most surprising is Erik’s reaction. He hasn’t really said much, just little conversations here and there, but I think he has a lot of mixed emotions about it. He’s always said that going to work full-time was my choice, and he didn’t mind struggling in the summer because kids “need their mommies.” I always thought that was sweet, that he was supportive. He’s never been controlling, and he’s never “put me down.” We always have had separate checking accounts and I was in complete control of my finances and my life. I always felt as though we were equals, somewhat. I mean I always instinctively took control of the house, because with work and coaching he didn’t have much time to devote to it. And he always paid the bills because he worked year round and his finances were more stable. But I think our relationship isn’t always the partnership that I believe it is. I think he liked it when I was home all summer because he could leave with the house a mess and feel no responsibility towards it….it was “my job.” And he’s hesitant about my new job because now our roles might change. I doubt it would inspire him to do a load of laundry, but he feels guilty now. Almost like he’s jealous, kind of, that we are equals. Last week I was looking through the bills and I saw quite a few that were late….not substantially, but I didn’t see the need in paying late fees when I once again will be getting a paycheck. I told him to let me know what he couldn’t pay with this check and he replied, “Oh, you just pay daycare, groceries, and gas….I’ll take care of the rest.” It kind of hurt my feelings. I mean here I am bringing in paychecks and finally in the position that I could contribute to the family financially, instead of always feeling like a burden, and instead of welcoming that he’s not acknowledging it. For years we have been praying, if Erik gets that $200/month raise then our world would change….we could get a new car, get new furniture, etc, etc, etc…. Now my income has changed substantially and he’s not really excited about it. After overtime we will probably bring in the same amount. He said it won’t really “change” his life that much, and that he liked knowing that the kids were at home with me and they were safe. I think he liked knowing that he was taking care of us….that we depended on him….that we needed him. I think that he feels as though he has somewhat failed, because I have taken on more financial responsibility, and that makes me sad. I don’t think he’s failed at all. We have all of our needs met because of him. That being said, I am glad that I am working. He gets so stressed and depressed and frustrated, as do I, at our inability to make ends meet. I was hoping that I could help him. That we could work together. That I could be an asset instead of an expense. But he’s not open to that yet, I don’t think his ego will allow it. The only thing that I can do, I guess, is pay bills that come in before he sees them (which won’t be really hard because he doesn’t pay close attention to the mail.) He isn’t one of those people that knows the power bill will be due the 7th of each month, unless he sees it he doesn’t pay it. And, I can build up a savings account. And pay for little things…..dates, concerts, camps. Extra things that will help our family but aren’t in our budget.