But I wanted to DO something. Many somethings. Shoveling was but one something. I baked, laundered, cooked, vacuumed, rubbed, swept, and washed since arriving in Massachusetts.
I'm not sure who actually needed me to do these things, them or me.
I'm pretty sure it was mostly me.
I needed to help. I knew that my friends' lives since their twin baby boys were born have been an whirlwind of breath-taking love and mind-numbing exhaustion. I remember that newborn time, that blur of feedings that run into one another, the nights that contain maybe just a little more sleep than the days, the ache of your eyelids because they haven't closed long enough in days and days.
Well, she's had DOUBLE all that. DOUBLE. Because there's TWO OF THEM.
All weekend long I kept exclaiming "THERE'S TWO OF THEM!" Classy, eh?
I've listened to her struggle from far away, too far away to do anything but listen.
But as I shoveled this melting driveway, and throughout the whole rest of the weekend, I felt so very present. And I finally understood just how fine they are and will be. They are figuring it out, like all parents have to, one day, one nap at a time. I cannot do any of it for them.
And given time, they would be just fine all on their own, much like their driveway.
Oh my goodness, you guys, I MADE IT. I made it to Massachusetts to see my college roommate and her adorable twin baby boys and I didn't whisper anything about it EVEN INSIDE MY OWN HEAD before I left because I was so nervous that something would go wrong, like it did last time.
I didn't pack until the very last minute because the gods of viruses and freak snow storms were watching, YOU KNOW THEY WERE.
But I made it and the whole time, from the start of the trip in the airport and throughout the whole weekend, I tried so very hard to just enjoy myself including the delicious moment when you realize I had a book and a pack of M&Ms and a whole plane ride to enjoy them ALL BY MYSELF.
Then, of course, there were the BABIES.
Have I mentioned this? THERE ARE TWO OF THEM.
I basked in the glow of baby feet.
And baby head sniffs.
Even folding baby clothes. Man, that task was SO NOT a chore.
I coochie-cooed and beamed like a loon the whole time, because you guys, I MADE IT. I was THERE.