Sometimes I wonder (worry) if I need my kids more than they need me. I am that mother who goes in for a head sniff every once in a while (okay maybe two or three times) when they are napping just because I need an extra fill. They both sleep in our bed most nights now, and while hubby sometimes complains of not sleeping well, I don't mind it- not one bit and worry about the time when they sleep in their own beds, in their own rooms, and we have our nights apart.
I have really rough and tough moments too just like every other mother of losing my patience and wanting to pull my hair out because having two toddlers is no joke. But I blame the fact that I am so needy of their attention because I am a working mother and I can't help but envy those who get more time with their children- because if I am honest, early mornings and late afternoons aren't enough for me. Chloe has so much to say now, and we have elaborate conversations about how much she likes the color pink and unicorns. Yates is starting to learn his colors, Chloe is starting to learn her letters and I desperately want to have the time to teach them these things, to have some say in their learning and creating their own character. To think I only have two more years with Chloe and three more with Yates before they go to kindergarten scares me, and I want to bubble wrap them and keep them tucked away in my arms forever and ever.
The fact of the matter is my family isn't just important to me, it's my everything. I am so fortunate to have a husband who feels the same way I do, who is addicted to our children as much as I am and who shares my same feelings about the importance of our time together as a family. I have never felt so complete as I do now with the four (five, including our first-born, bulldog Coach) of us, and for that I am extremely grateful.
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