Snapshot

There truly are moments in time that stand still and stay preserved as snapshots in our minds.  I sat in the recliner nursing my infant twins simultaneously in “football hold”, just as I had learned it from the books I had read in preparation for mothering these babies.  A playpen full of clean clothes sat beside us, another trick I had gleaned from my reading.  I hadn’t the time for folding, however there were clean clothes at the ready.  My three-year old daughter was standing on the counter handing peanut butter and bread down from the cupboard to my eldest daughter, not quite five years old.  I felt weary, guilty, and proud as I watched. They would be fine.  There was nothing wrong with their independent lunch preparation. Hypervigilant, I scanned the room, needing to account for one more little chick.  Emily, my twenty-one month old baby girl with Down’s syndrome smiled up at me from the kitty dish as she put a handful into her baby mouth. In that moment, I thought “What the hell am I doing?  None of this is hurting them, right?”  This surely had to be the lowest point in my life as a mother thus far.  There would never be a dull moment, some better, some worse, some hilarious, some sheer joy — but no, never ever dull.