Walking into the store with Kay perched on my hips and my mom following with Cee clinging to her, I looked around for a cart and effortlessly wiped down the cart handle and the seating area for the kids before plonking them down and strapping the seat belts in. Pushing the twins in a cart, the rest of the evening passed by in a blur.
Driving home, it felt surreal. Like I was hovering outside the car peeking into a life that was not mine yet was in a weird way. I watched at the girls each played with one hand of mine kissing it and making squealing sounds as I tickled them. I watched Amma stare straight ahead lost in her world. I watched as K shot sidelong glances as Cee as she made tender baby noises from the back seat.
Back home it was an endless routine of feeding, changing and putting the girls to bed before I got to sit with my laptop and mull on what to write for today. Stumped by a lack of writing prompt at NaBloPoMo today, I debated if I wanted to write about the Scripps Spelling Bee finals yesterday or try to make sense of this strange life I seem to be leading.
Novels often talk about protagonists watching their lives unfurl in a way that seems surreal. I have enjoyed the lyrical beauty of such prose wondering what it would feel like to go through the motions not sure if this was my life I was leading. I now know. It still is sinking in. The mommy thing. I resist the impulse to cling to the girls in an irrational fear that I will wake up and all this will be a dream. Albeit a lovely one.
It leaves me wondering if I am strange to feel this way or other people go through this “Wow! is this my life?” phase?