The Big Kids

I think most parents of 3.5-year-olds would never imagine themselves saying this, but my preschoolers are keeping me sane.

They have done so well over the last week and a half.  And sure, baby sister is still (STILL) not home and is only barely more than an abstract concept in some ways, that doesn’t mean that our house has exactly been 100% normal.

For one thing, when my water broke in the middle of the night, that meant they woke up to a familiar-yet-unexpected face that Friday morning, and a surprise absence of Mom & Dad.  My wonderfully adaptable kids reacted pretty much how I expected them to – by insisting that my friend come see the stickers in their room and fawn over their pajamas.  No screams, no tears.  Simply accepted the explanation given and rolled with it.  It got a little bit crazier as the day went on – their aunt arrived and relieved our friend, Daddy came home from the hospital and promptly passed out for a few hours, and Grandma & Grandpa arrived from Florida.  By the time they came to see me in the hospital that evening, they were a little frayed, but generally held together quite well.

I think the most disruptive thing was my hospital stay.  But even then, they had the full attention of their grandparents, and Daddy was pretty much home the whole time.  Now that I’m home?  I think they’re mostly just enjoying the extra adults around.  Sometimes I think they’re picking up on our stress a little bit, but mostly they seem to be doing well. Behavior has been good, separation anxiety has been minimal. Thank goodness.

For me? Seeing them play and hearing them laugh is like a balm. For as much as they can drive me bonkers, right now I am reveling in them. It pains me how little time I can give them at the moment, between the constant pumping and the hospital visits and the general exhaustion.  But then I see how well they’re doing, how much they are smiling and laughing, and I feel the load lighten just a little bit.  I am so profoundly happy that they have each other. I have always been grateful for their twin-ness, and the fact that everyone’s favorite saying (“they’ll always have each other!”) seems to actually hold true.  They are so happy, so much of the time, to play with each other. Whether it’s Wii Fit games on the TV or pretend play that roams all over the house, they seem somewhat protected from all of this by the fact that they still, always, have each other.

I am trying to embrace it. I am trying to give them whatever pieces of attention I can find, whatever energy I can muster. I am trying to say “yes” when they ask me to play a game with them. I am trying to dish out extra hugs and kisses. I am trying to answer their non-stop questions with patience (even when they get all up in my business while I’m pumping – hey, might as well explain it). I am trying to still enforce consistent rules and expectations so they know their world isn’t totally out of whack.  It’s as much for me as it is for them. It helps.  Having them in my life means that wallowing in stress or self-pity, and having my whole world stop and revolve around the hospital, is simply not an option. They keep me firmly planted in the present, they keep my feet moving steadily forward.

They think about their baby sister. They ask about her, ask if she can come home yet, ask if they can go visit her.  When they go to the hospital, they are so proud of giving her little hugs and kisses and so excited when her tiny hand grabs their not-as-tiny fingers.  After a visit a few days ago, I think Daniel seemed a little stressed, a little sad, a little fragile. Worried, maybe. Whether his worry is his own or he’s picking up on it from us, he does seem to really care about Eleanor, even if he often seems like he’s unfazed or otherwise doesn’t spend much thought on it.  They both do, and neither kid is completely unaffected.

But I’m so proud of my big kids. And so glad to have them.  I made sure to go in and give them each an extra hug and a kiss when I got home from the hospital tonight, and was glad they weren’t asleep yet.  Sometimes those late-night kisses are just for me, but sometimes I’m glad they know I’m there.