impending doom

So far, whenever I have spoke of or even thought about going back to work, it was bearable, because “I don’t have to go back until September.”  It’s September.  I officially can’t say that anymore.  It’s approaching and quickly (18 days to be exact).  Don’t get me wrong, I know my babies are going to be in good hands (are there any hands better than a grandma’s hands?  I think not.).  They’ll settle into a new routine that will be good for them.  I’m going back to work for a great company.  And I suppose that it’ll be nice to have a reason to get out of my pajamas and comb my hair before the kids go down for their afternoon nap.  I welcome some adult interactions and challenges (as opposed to the incredible feat of getting a comb through the hair of one of Addy’s mermaid dolls).  I’m trying very hard here to think of other reasons that this is a good thing, but I’m struggling.  Work is something I have to do for my family’s well-being, and I’m lucky to have my career.  It just doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to miss them like crazy.  I’ll miss the way he smiles at me so big that his pacifier falls out of his mouth.  Nursing him.  Watching him smile and coo to himself in his swing (he loves checking himself out in the mirror).

I’ll miss listening to Addy reason with the imaginary kids on her train (“It’s OK kids, the tunnel is going to be fun, don’t be scared”).  Reading stories to her.  Finding her with Vaseline slathered all over her body because she just had to play in her room by herself.  The way she comes running into the room, “Mama!  It’s a spider!  You better get it!”  Her new way of talking to Cohen, in a screechy voice “Look Brudder!  It’s duh Hy-Vee.  I’m excited!  Brudder’s excited!”  The way his eyes follow her around a room.  Napping with them on the couch.  Kissing their soft little cheeks whenever I darn well please.  I need to remind myself that I’m not saying goodbye to all of this and that seeing less of them will make my time with them even more precious.  After I hide in my cubicle and cry for them, I’ll be all the more thrilled by the sight of their little faces.

For now, I’ll do what I can to feel better about the time passing.  I'll make the most of the time I have left at home with them.  I’ll get our lives organized.  I’ll welcome autumn with open arms.  I’ve ordered new fall-inspired bricks for my Scentsy burner (Amber Road and Cloves-n-Cinnamon).  We’re enjoying crisp night air on our screened in porch.  Addy’s desire to be naked continues and is wearing off on Cohen.  Just kidding about that last part, but she does enjoy teaching him some wicked dance moves. 

I’ve signed her up for her first gymnastics class in October.  I’ve taken on some cake projects.  I’m looking forward to Miss Lauren’s wedding festivities.  We’re planning a basement renovation.  Of course, I’ve started the process of costume-making.  You see, this is important.  Jason and I will always continue the debate over whose mom made the best Halloween costumes.  These are the only scanned in pictures I can find.  I’ve also heard a lot about Jason’s Elvis and Karate Kid costumes.  My personal favorite was my mom’s giant Skittle bag costume…with every last Skittle cut out of felt.

Even before we had kids, we wanted to do costumes right.  From this...

to the year that we glued Barbies to Jason’s jacket and called him a “chick magnet.” 

I always wanted to be able to make fun, unique costumes for my kiddos.  I felt so special when my mom spent hours perfecting something I’d wear for one day, but oh-so-proudly.  Unfortunately I don’t have the sewing skills (or machine) that Jason’s mom and my mom do.  But we’re making due…

I’ve bought all the supplies and started the ceremonial felt cutting for the cutest bag of popcorn and stick of cotton candy you all will ever see.  Yes, I realize Halloween is two months from now, but like I said, I need to do something to feel good about the impending doom that fall brings, otherwise known as…dun, dun, dun…the end of maternity leave.  

I better get back to kissing those little cheeks.