Toys, Chocolate Milk and Guacamole

I've said it before, but the bigger I seem to get, the less endurance I have, the less agile I am, the more my back and hips HURT. I'm willing to endure anything if it means carrying these boys as long as possible. But one of the hardest side effects to my body feeling like a balloon that's been blown up way too far,  is not being able to play with Colin the way we used to. It's simply harder to get on the floor and play, it's harder to lift him, and it's harder to go through the process of taking him out on special outings like exploring the children's museum or aquarium. I just don't have the energy or endurance. The other day I was thinking about how well c seems to be adapting to these changes in mommy. We cuddle in bed, read books, and he's getting to watch more cartoons than I ever allowed before.

Then this morning, we went to his speech therapy session. We were late. The session went great and colin just loved playing with his young, energetic speech therapist. When it was time to leave, he started to cry. But not just the, "I don't want to clean up the toys and leave" type of crying that you might expect from a toddler. Rather they were what seemed to be truly sad tears. In that moment, it hit me that he probably misses playing at home with mommy in that way, without understanding why mommy can't do all the things she used to. He senses the changes our family's going through even though he can't express it. Well, it goes without saying that I felt even more guilty about not being as dynamic a mommy for him, and for being late for his session where he gets to play with so many cool toys and with a woman who can move and play with so much energy. 

To top it off, later, after his nap, he noticed that our dog olive was drinking water out of a bowl that was actually his. This is not something that would usually bother him in the least. But today, his lip started to quiver, the same sad tears started rolling down his cheeks and he kept saying, "mine, mine". 

It's such a dagger to the heart to see your child feeling truly sad. 

I realized today that on his own level colin senses things are changing and sometimes it's okay and sometimes he feels sad about it. That's where the motherly guilt comes in because I wish I could just fix it.

So what did I do about it today? We spent the rest of the afternoon on a mommy/ colin date. I took him to target and we picked out a new toy and then on a whim went across the street to chipotle to have a late lunch. He loves chipotle's chips and guacamole and so we sat there, "talked" and really enjoyed ourselves. I didn't check my phone once, didn't send a text, just focused on my little man. Oh- and I introduced him to chocolate milk. I know buying your child new toys and giving them chocolate isn't always the best way to handle sad feelings or motherly guilt, but we sure had fun. :)

Tonight, as I settled into bed and thought about the day, the guilt set in again. I feel like already I'm trying to divide my time and energy between what the growing babies need (a mommy who's taking it very easy) and what colin needs (a mommy who can do fun things with him). I worry about how it will be when I get really, really big, or if I have to go on bed rest. And I worry about how colin will adjust when the babies arrive. I'm sure he'll express more tears of sadness that he himself doesn't quite understand. But I also realize that I can't prevent him from feeling sad all his life (although boy would I love to). I also can't prevent a life without change or surprises. Nor would I want to I guess, because although change is hard, wonderful growth can come of it. That's what I'm hoping will happen in the next couple months for our family.

And although I can't lift colin up, swoop him around, crawl on the floor and play for long periods, or explore the children's museum for hours, I can still love him with all my might. I can still kiss him, hug him, wipe his tears and treat him to chips, guacamole and chocolate milk at Chipotle. That has to be worth something.