Then someone posted a question in one of my Facebook groups. She needed some support, and I remembered experiencing something similar to what she was experiencing and I started poking around this blog to find the post.
While poking around, I found another post that I wrote where I talked about the sweet things BBZ did in the middle of the night at 18 months old. I had long forgotten those days. Not only that they happened, but the details of those late night nursings are a long forgotten part of the first few years with a new baby/toddler. But the memory came back in a rush, and I was so incredibly grateful that I took the time to type those words nearly 3 years ago.
I blog for them. I want them to know how much I love them. I want them to know how much I want to have their lives documented for them. For their future spouses. For their future children.
I blog for me. I want to remember each and every detail of their very existence. This world doesn't make sense to me. I don't really understand why I am here. Why they are here. Why some feel pain and others are lucky enough to avoid it. Why I wonder so much how our story will play out. How sometimes I am so happy in my life that I find it hard to believe that it is really happening to me.
I find it hard to believe that these boys and their daddy are really mine. How can this be? How am I so blessed to have these perfect little people? (perfect for me that is, we are all fabulously flawed) How can I possibly express the feeling of incredible pride in their very existence in this world that makes absolutely no sense to me?
This world doesn't make sense to me, and I suppose it doesn't have to. I don't really believe in god. I don't believe that someone created this world and is sitting back and watching. While I preach about Karma at times, I also don't really believe that things happen to people because of the things they do. I don't believe that if something bad happens, that a person did something to make that happen. That is a very sad thought to me. One of the blame games that so many of us use to try and make sense of a world that doesn't make sense. Things just happen. We have no control over it.
All I can do is look at these boys, wrap my arms around them, hope that our future will bring hope and purpose, as opposed to tragedy, and believe that each little moment is a special one to us, even if each and every other family in the world is having similar moments with their perfect little people.
And so, I blog. I document each little milestone. So one day I can read back and remember exactly what it felt like to see the incredible amount of pride BBZ felt when he learned how to buckle himself into his new car seat all by himself. Or how LBZ begins immediately waving goodbye to everyone around when I ask if he's ready for bed, because he so looks forward to his bottle each night. I write this all down because while we may seem just like everyone else to the big wide world, we are our own perfect little family, and I don't want to forget a thing.