Life is zipping by Part II

Here is the first post I wrote, back when being a Mama was still profound for me every single day because at that time, when you were just a year, it seemed every single week you changed before me eyes.

Life still zips by, but at a much slower pace now. I have more time to reflect in a day that you now know certain buttons to push to get me up off my fat butt, or give you my big Bug Eyes "don't you dare" touch that look.

I like how you, J, will put your hand close to the electric cord to the entertainment system and then, whimper softly my way, "Uh. Uh. Uh." You never touch it. You might glance at it. But, mostly, you want me to tell you, "No, touch." That's the fun part, isn't it? Seeing me worried, seeing me concerned. Seeing me pounce to save you.

I like how you, L, will not just grab my papers with one hand, but when I push that one paw away you will swing with both arms flailing about until you grab something, anything at all and destroy it with one impeccable crush of your tiny fist. Your strength is amazing. I love how when you do this you have the biggest smile on your face, like this is all you live for, to crush my writing to death, to kill it fiercely, to make it unreadable.

I am in awe of all that you both understand, and all of the orders you follow. Stand on one foot. Bounce like a frog. Show me your smile. Where's your knee. Pat your head. Rub your belly. Walk in circles. Go backwards. Crawl like a baby. Grab that basket of laundry and take it upstairs ... nah, just kidding.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by your immense curiosity, that of course, has me spinning in a day. No touch in the kitchen to you, J, while L starts grabbing anything she can off the dining room table. No touch in the living room, while J starts hitting all the buttons on the remote. Room to room, object to object, proof of my child non-proofing spilled all over the floors. My kitchen utensils. All the wash cloths, all the plastic wear, toys, more toys, socks, shoes, and before I know it it's another meal time and you're crying and I'm wondering what the hell I've just been doing for an hour that I now have to rush to fix you something to eat.

Only for you to toss it over your shoulder, rub it through your hair and wrinkle your nose. Again.

And that was just this morning.