They have been up since dawn, opening an onslaught of presents, eating an avalanche of sugar, and trying to burn off all of that sugar inside the confines of your home. They have talked your ear off, and have each had an over stimulation meltdown in the last few hours before bed. They were weirded out by Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, because, you know… what the heck kind of animation is that supposed to be to a Pixar generation baby, anyway? They made a gingerbread house that looks like it was decorated by mongoloids or a family from a Jeff Foxworthy joke, but they had a fantastic time doing it. They had you at your wit’s end by the time they passed out, asking yourself a million times over why you didn’t save a bottle of wine for the end of the day.

Then, they sneak up on you when they’re sleeping. Those little faces. Little, tiny, angelic fingers that lose their grip around your hand as they finally drift off. The same face, covered in the same innocence you carried in your arms just a few years ago. How does it happen like this? How are they two short years away from being preteens? Disney Princess phase? Done. Hello, Taylor Swift craze. Yes, we’re buying teeny-bopper magazines already. (Relax, it’s balanced with Ranger Rick and Highlights and we spend our online time on natgeo for kids. A little pop culutre won’t kill them.)

Do they have any idea how much I love them? Do I have any idea how much I love them? How do I tell them? How do I show them? I didn’t feel loved when I was a kid. I heard on a show once that kids think it is never enough. But I talk to grown children who don’t share the same sentiment about their childhoods that I do. One of my best friends is 31, and he’s still such a Mama’s boy that it would make your head spin. I would much rather have children that were too attached than not attached at all.

I know I kind of abandoned this blog. For the sake of full disclosure, like I swore I would do here, I’ve been too ashamed of my parenting skills to write here. It was a really rough year. Really. I don’t have the physical or emotional fortitude to divulge it all tonight. However, I will soon. I need to purge some raunchiness from my spirit… and Tumblr, you are the lucky host of the parasitic ideas and emotions that have been feasting on my heart.

I can hear my son breathing from here. My heart might explode.