Blink

It's happened.

In the blink of an eye.

A day for which I thought I would feel nothing but excitement has arrived and I find myself with mixed emotions.  

Today is the day I sent the breast pump back to it's rightful owner in anticipation of a new nephew.  When my babies were born they were perfect and tiny.  Too tiny to nurse due to the amount of calories they would burn in the process.  Thus, my love/hate relationship with the breast pump began.  When the time finally came that we received the go ahead to nurse, I couldn't see the point of messing up their routine and so I continued to pump.  For every feeding for seven months.  That's a lot of pumping.

I loved that I was able to give my babies enough milk and nutrition for them to grow healthy and strong.

I hated: the time it took, the pain, the thrush, the general nuisance of having to find a place to pump if we were out of the house at an inopportune time...

Had you asked me, 3 weeks into this motherhood journey, how long I was planning on pumping, I probably would have told you that I didn't think I could last another week.  Such was my hatred for pumping.  In reality my ultimate goal was 6 months.  And, in case you don't know me very well, I'm a tiny bit stubborn determined. So I fought through the hatred and sojourned on.  

Matt's sister is expecting a baby boy in the next few weeks and thus I had a deadline for the breast pump that she so kindly loaned us.  A deadline I thought I was ready for.  And, ultimately I am.  

I'm excited for the extra time in my day that not pumping has afforded me.  I'm excited to be able to work out again (time and two ginormous assets have made exercising kind of a pain, literally) and to welcome back my old body, or at least some likeness to my old body.  So where are the mixed feelings coming from?

I think it stems from the fact that the end of pumping means that my babies are getting bigger.  They're not newborns anymore, and while I love watching their little personalities develop and they make me laugh and smile more times than I can count each day, I can't help but feel a little sad for how fast the last seven months has passed.  Seriously, in a blink.

I'm almost afraid to go to sleep each night for fear that I will wake up and it will be time to take them to kindergarten.  So, I've come to a decision.

Instead of staying completely awake for the next five years, I will spend my waking moments kissing and hugging, playing and giggling, and whispering "I love you" as many times as it takes for it to take root and embed in every fiber of those sweet little bodies.

I refuse to miss this special season of my life simply because I blinked.

7 months old but still wearing 3 month onesies.  Our monthly photo shoots are getting more tricky as these little ones get more and more wiggly.

  I had to throw this one in here.  I sure love this little buddy of mine.

 Yum! Tate and Ainsley ate carrots for the first time and loved them!