At the end of the day

I must be under some test of strength by the universe. If I can handle this, I can handle just about anything, right?

I take it all back. Every last word.

I'd take a full day of tantrums and whining and never getting anything done to never, ever have to drop them off at day care, again.

What was I thinking? This isn't going to work out. I don't have it in me. I'm going to cave.

I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH.

But, I can't. I'm not working to make money. I'm not working to get away from my children. I'm not working to further a career.

I'm working to help people; to make a difference in my daughters' world.

It's hard right now to keep this in perspective. They didn't eat all day. They cried all afternoon. They sobbed, uncontrollably, again when I arrived to pick them up. Their little hearts bursting with emotion. They don't want me to leave their side all night afterward. We were each other's worlds for so long and now they feel like I'm going to leave them any second.

And, my God, I can't stop crying about it (when they aren't around.)

They are depressed. I can see it. And it's truly breaking every string of my heart. One by one.

I don't think I can take another "it will get easier" comment. This sage advice doesn't help as I have to slide their little tightly gripped hands off mine and walk away, leaving them crying so hard they sound like they will vomit.

My super cool boss said that I'll laugh about all of this in seven years and he's probably right. He's a father himself. And I take comfort that all of this will pass and we'll all be stronger for it.

I'm afraid, I might be the one scarred for life. I'm picturing all the working moms of the world and wondering, seriously, how they do it.

How do they do it and not feel totally, utterly, sincerely crushed?

And then this note from one of their teachers: "They have a lot of trouble transitioning from one activity to another."

Seriously? This is a joke, right?

I'm worried that my only children -- my first born -- my youngest and my oldest -- are getting basic needs, like, say food, water, sleep and that they are smiling and happy for more than 2 hours in an 8 hour day.

But, OK, thanks for sharing your concern about how to get them to ease right from playing hard into taking a nap ON THEIR SECOND DAY OF DAY CARE!

That will make everything better for my depressed 2.5 year olds who feel like their mother has left them and will never return.

But, whatever, tomorrow's a new day and like this morning I'll set out with a smiling, happy face that will have them fooled until ...

I get dressed for work.

Then, it's game over.

Live blogging ... a heart breaking

Did you hear that? That loud crash ... the earth falling off its axis?

Nevermind it.

It was just my heart shattering in a million little pieces and falling out of the sky as two little girls cried and clung to my legs as I shoved them away and left them. With strangers.

That's all. Just their world changed in a single morning.

And, no they didn't stop crying after I left. Perhaps it is harder on me than them, but it's really hard on them, too.

Back to work.

EDITED: Who needs lunch? Or snacks? When you're depressed, right? Turns out, they didn't need a full belly to take a nap.

Sigh.

A sluggish morning -- 14 Days to go

I realize there's only two more weeks left.

I realize otherwise laid-back mornings will soon turn to chaos right before my eyes.

I realize I'll be on a mission to get out the door, to not forget anything, to not be late for work, to kiss them too much and hug them too tight.

I realize the impact Catching a Shooting Star has on a life, let alone two little lives.

I realize it all.

That's why I'm trying to savor this life as it is right now. I'm trying to embrace the manic days of Terrible Twos and eat up every ounce of sunshine and smile and giggle I can get.

It's not really anything different, except everything is changing and my heart is aflutter, and there's a lump forming in my throat and the sleepless nights are coming and there's tears dripping from my eyes right this second.

Rough waters ahead, passengers. Rough, indeed.

Breakfast -- al fresco.

Menu:

Pumpkin French Toast
Grapes
Milk
Sausage links

But, the meal was hardly eaten, foiling yet another master plan of mine to relish these last slow mornings.

The real highlight were the slow eaters at the neighboring table.

Thank you for visiting today.

Did you like this blog post? Please consider subscribing here:

Subscribe in a reader