I found myself thinking about what I'm going to remember about these early toddler days when the kids are older. I've been told this age is the hardest, which gives me a little comfort, but that it takes almost a year to get through it. A year? Are you kidding me? I have this vision of the last poopy diaper that I will ever change, and it can't be a year away. Plus, they need to walk and talk regularly. Now.

What will be what I'll remember most of this? Am I going to remember the absolute boredom punctuated by unmanageable chaos? Will I remember the periods of time when I wanted to bolt almost every minute of every day? Will I remember how moments grind by sometimes?

Will I remember the sweetness of my son's voice saying hi? Will I remember the joy in my daughter's wiggle when I hold her and do a little dance?

Will I remember the bittersweetness of the whole thing, how glad I am that time passes, relieved, while wishing I could hold on just a little longer? Will I remember how sad it makes me that I don't have the energy to be the perfect mom, and the shame I feel that I can't live up to the label? Will I remember the shame I feel every time I turn on PBS and go into the other room to close my eyes for a minute?

Will I remember any of this? Because it's hard enough remembering it now, while sitting here writing as my children giggle incessantly in the other room.