I waste a copious amount of time complaining about both of you guys, so why should today be any different, right? This afternoon, while tucking freshly laundered sheets around the mattress of my bed and muttering about how things would never get done if I didn't do them, something happened. A moment I would've otherwise missed. Ev, you had asked me earlier what songs I'd sung to get you to sleep as an infant. Instead of reciting the list, I found the CD I'd made for you (when you'd gotten to the point of sleeping without the aid of constant rocking) and put it on in your room. I took the mattresses off of the box springs and told both of you to go nuts...and you did. Then I proceeded to my room to begrudgingly make my bed, telling you when it was made and I was ready for yours, jumping time was over.
"Words keep pouring out like endless rain into a paper cup; they slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe."
I heard those words pouring out of your tiny stereo speakers and I was taken back to that first year with you, Ev. Holding you in the dark while you whimpered about things you hadn't the capacity to explain to me and singing under my breath while I rocked and prayed you would fall asleep soon. And I started to cry, not just because I'm suffering through my monthly hormonal upheaval, but because I never took the time to relish it while it was happening. People gave me the whole "You'll look back one day..." diatribe and I was skeptical that I would apply it to any instance in your infancy, but there I was, looking back. And I cried because I wish I'd sung more to you, Quinn and because your infancy seems like one angry, sleepless blur to me. I'm not going to lie, your first few months are not ones I look back on fondly, but the singing, that's something I regret we've never shared and I hope to rectify that soon. There were nights when I wandered the apartment, cradling you for the umpteenth time and wondering how sane I was to think I could handle another child, but here you are; stubborn, independent, outrageously funny, SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT (thank the lord) and I realize that you are a prime example of "the best is yet to come."
"Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting through my open mind; Possessing and caressing me."
I stopped making my bed and sat on the edge, looking past my door frame into yours and watched you both as you bounced off of those mattresses, giggling like loons and screaming for me to come watch as you flipped yourselves around in ways that made me cringe. Ev, I saw you help your sister complete that somersault that had been eluding her; patiently instructing her on where to place her head and how to push off with her legs. Quinn, hearing you yell, "Enan, watch me!" as you did it once more, by yourself, was pure joy. It was a perfect moment; no one screaming, no one angry, no one disobeying or fighting for control. So, I went in and knelt on the floor in the only space not occupied by a mattress, and watched you both without interfering, overcome by a feeling of contentment. Even though your father and I have made some horrendous decisions over the years, you two represent sparks of absolute genius.
I know some days I make you both feel like you can't do a single thing right. In fact, we share a lot of moments throughout our days that I would consider far less than perfect. Days when I seem to take away all the things you love. Days when I do more yelling than laughing. Days when the word "No" seems to be on a constant loop. Days when I spend more time giving you my opinion than asking you for yours. I know I've missed out on creating some wonderful moments because I'm usually more compelled to complain than to accept and I'm sorry for that. When I look at you both I see all the things I like about myself, as well as all the things I'd like to change. But you should know, behind the veil of frustration is a woman who wouldn't want to change either of you for all the money in the world. Some days it seems that you are both proof that at least twice in my life, I've done something right; today, in that moment, especially.
"Jai Guru Deva, om. Nothing's gonna change my world, nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world, nothing's gonna change my world."
