But I know that they will not always be two. Before I have a chance to catch my breath, they will be three, and I will give away whatever XL boy diapers I have left, and I will retire the diaper bag for good, and we will move, as a family, into a new chapter entirely; one marked with family outings that don't include carting around pack-n-plays, and conversations with shared laughter over plates of lasagne, all bites size-normal.
It is a funny thing, welcoming a child at age two. I am greeting and fairwelling a baby at the same time. I only changed one of her diapers, the one they put on her for our first meeting, just in case. Its a good thing they did, too, because the poor little thing was so nervous that she had the runs in her pants (we joke that we scared the crap out of her). She felt horribly gross about it. I gently wiped her clean in the ladies room, my first and last fully immodest view of my daughter's bottom end. I really might not see it again until I attend the births of her children. Such a thought!
My point is, I am determined to enjoy every one of these absolutely, unbelievably, indescribably crazy days. They are passing right before my eyes.
