Sometimes it seems like just yesterday I was the mother of one adorable boy. One tiny child who was the sun and moon of my universe all by himself. He got my full, undivided attention; we went everywhere together, just the two of us. Bliss?

I wonder if he can remember when it was just us? When he was an only child? I wonder if he ever resents having my attention split in two, sharing my time with his admittedly adorable sister.

I’m sure it’s not easy sharing everything: time, space, food, attention, toys…

But at the same time, eighteen months later (almost nineteen) I kind of can’t imagine life without the two of them. They are a package deal for me. One can’t go without the other now. Hasn’t it always been like this?

Hasn’t she always been here? Always held a piece of my heart, even before I knew her? Haven’t I always been a mother of two?