Things will never get back to “normal”—as you defined normal when you were single—when you were childless. Never.This is true. We're deluding ourselves if we think that we can add any other human being to our family lives and still be the same person, the same normal that we were before. Never mind adding two at once! The thing to do, then, is to focus not on how you've lost your true self, but to see what's still the same, what's left at the core. And to nurture that. So maybe you don't go to yoga five days a week anymore. Maybe you have to redefine what "doing yoga" means—a deep breath is yoga.
But I digress. Let us back on track:
It changes. You get better. You grow. Learn. And that little squealer—that awesome toddler—that slightly evil three-year-old—he grows. Learns. Changes. It gets better. When you learn and change and grow and all that—it all gets better.It does get better: now when the boys are fighting over a toy, I often hear one of them declare "play 'gether!" And they do.
This is what change, what better looks like: I spent an hour bored on the couch while my boys played a trashcan game. Pictured above: clearing out the bins in order to dump more trash.
More better: An outing to the park during which I spent 40 minutes "punching tickets" with my phone while the boys went for a "train ride."
|This is a train. I believe they're dismounting...|
|D is collecting more tickets to punch. N seems to be meditating.|
Most better: I was too tired to carry anyone from car to house, so I suggested that they find another way. Dash tried to get Nick to pick him up; Nick had a different idea.
|Good idea, Nick!|
|How can we make holding hands even more fun?|
|Well, we could climb stairs while holding hands.|
Almost two-and-a-half is tiring and frustrating in many, many ways. But it's still much easier than juggling two newborns.