Nearly Six

I am someone who anticipates and experiences things before they even happen, to get a jump-start on the emotions let’s just say.

My twin boys, Petros and Theodore will be turning six in April, and I am already dealing with this huge shift in my consciousness. I will no longer be a mom of little boys and toddlers and babies, but of kids. Six year olds. They start first grade at six! They have really, truly stopped coming to our bed at night. It’s as if they read my blog “Getting to know me” where I wished for some privacy with my husband, Fotis and said, "Oh, didn’t know you felt that way. Oh well, sure."

But… I didn’t mean it! No, I was enjoying the complaining! I want time back. Sneak in with us, just one more time for old time’s sake. I feel lonely.

See, we just moved into a new house, and it’s big and new to me too. I miss that constant connection the four of us all had. Team One I call us, Fotis, me and our first set of twins. Team Two is us with our second set, age three, Christiane and Constantine, and Team Three, I suppose, is just me, my baby girl, Clea-Noelle, and our Golden Retriever, Beckham, who sleeps outside her nursery door at night, guarding her.

What am I even talking about? Oh, I was trying to explain that they, the boys, are out of pull-ups at night, that they don’t come to our bed, that Theodore did hug me the “old way” last night, standing at the rim of his bed, taller than me, where I basically hug his chest and am “little mommy.” But Petros won’t even let me blow kisses at him. He swats them away or ducks behind pillows or a napkin at dinner to shield himself from them. From me!

I am not in control of the love anymore. They are.

Swallow that one. No way – painful. Get me a poodle. Or I’d really actually like a Papillion, but Fotis would collapse. (I think Beckham is more than enough dog for anyone, by the by.)

I miss my little boys who hug and need my affection. Meanwhile, in the spirit of my new manta to: Love the one you’re with, I think I’ll go downstairs and prepare C-No (the baby) an early lunch. She likes scrambled eggs on toast. She likes pizza. She likes caviar.

Is anyone else feeling this way? Please post your experiences with being pushed away, and how you handle or rationalize or fall apart with it, in the comment section below. 

Jennifer Dulos also blogs at: www.fivemakesseven.com