I'm aware that I haven't wrote anything here for a while. I'm not sure why - perhaps because there's nothing new under the sun, or if there is, I don't have the eloquence to do it justice. Perhaps because part of me craves invisibility, and quiet, and not having to think. Maybe it was being busy, or tired (Ok, lazy), or the feeling that is somehow a selfish activity. I honestly don't know the whys, just like I don't really know why I'm writing today, when there are practical, homely duties I could and should be attending to.
The twins will be 2 soon, and even now, even after having them for 2 years, my heart swells with love and pride, and my head fills with disbelieve and confusion that these 2 bright, funny, expressive, fierce, engaging wonders, could possibly be mine. I fear for them, as I suppose all mothers do for their children. But my fears are not for what is 'out there' in the world, they are not for accident, or illness, or lurking, unknown predators. My fear for them, is that they are affected by my insularity, and self-critical ways, and fearfulness. I want Gareth to keep the outgoing, passionate, goofy, affectionate ferocity that he has. I want Molly to keep her quieter charm, and love of prettiness, and the outdoors. I do not want to be the shadow that dims their light.
When the twins were babies, I remember a time my husband was trying to comfort a crying Molly. She kept sobbing, and sobbing, and eventually he handed her over to me. She snuggled in, and stopped crying almost instantly, and it struck me I am their safe place. Sometimes, even now, the privilege and responsibility of it overwhelms me. When Molly climbs into my lap and cuddles in, or when Gareth pulls my head down towards him with his surprising little-boy strength to kiss me, I am filled with love, and wonder; confusion, and unworthiness. Will I ever settle in to motherhood? Will I ever loose this faint sense of disbelief in these gifts that I've been given, or the faith these gifts have in me?