Two Tiny Humans

Today is my last day of maternity leave. Tomorrow I will rejoin the workforce. Life will inevitability speed up. My kids will get older with each passing day. Eight of those hours, I will miss out on seeing them grow.
I don’t know why I let the guilt get me. It does, it eats me alive.
For reasons that I can not explain, while I was locked up in my bedroom yesterday feeding babe #2 (my 14-year-old stepson was in the house, thought I would spare him the breast feeding show) I started watching an episode of The Real Housewives of Melbourne. Now, I watch these shows purely to make myself feel better about myself. I think it’s extremely sad how most of these women portrayed in these shows have million dollar homes, fancy cars, celebrity status, rich husbands, and above average children, but they are made to seem like they are idiots. I guess the point that I take away from these shows is this; even if you have everything you could ever want in material things, you can not fake your way through having common sense. The episode yesterday had a segment where one of the women was doing a Q&A session with a group of working mothers. This “Real Housewife” was writing a book about being a working mother. During the Q&A session, she handed out a list that she gives her nanny when the nanny is caring for her children. Some of the things on the list were ridiculous . Some of them were chores that had nothing to do with the children. The group of mothers were clearly confused as well. One woman asked the author if she (the mother) came home before the certain part of the list was done, for example, giving the children a bath, if that part wasn’t done yet, they asked if she took over there and finished the rest of the list herself. The things after that were bedtime stories and tucking the children into bed. The author simply stated, “No.” So this woman doesn’t even want to tuck her own children into bed each night. I felt sick. How could she not want those precious moments with her kids? How could she not feel guilty about willingly letting someone else be the last face her children see before they fall asleep at night while she is downstairs doing what? She is working on her book about being a working mother? Not buying that book! Sorry, not sorry!
Anyway, I can honestly say that I have enjoyed my time off with my kiddos. My mom was here for about four weeks. The rest of the time, I have been enjoying learning how to be a mother to two amazing boys. My floors are dirty. My hair isn’t done. I dance around the living room like a crazed fool with my two-year-old. I am babe #2’s own personal milk cow. I don’t have a normal sleep pattern and I have yet to find the time to start my new workout routine, but I have loved every moment of it.
Every. Single. Moment.
Tomorrow I will be a mess. I will cry. I will check in on my kids too many times. At the end of the work day, I won’t care about anything except getting my arms around them. They have my heart. They are the reasons behind everything I ever do. It’s funny when you realize that you no longer care about what you want or what you need. All of those things get trumped by them. Two tiny humans run my life and I am perfectly fine with that.
Wish me luck!

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