I forgot.

You guys.  I forgot.  I forgot how tiny they are:

 How their little feet start out the same size as a pinky finger.

I forgot how quickly they grow.

How you put them in an outfit and they are swimming in it and the next time you put it on them it's way too small.

I forgot how fascinating they are.  How every little movement, little gesture, little facial expression is the most amazing and interesting thing in the world.  And how hours of your time get sucked into watching them.

 I forgot how boring they are.  How there's no conversations or fun stories yet.  You don't get to hear about their day or crack up at their latest plans.  They don't play or laugh.  Not yet.

I forgot how seeing their siblings interact with them is the most wonderful feeling.  How a simple gesture can make you melt completely because you know it's the beginning of a life long friendship.

I forgot how hard they are.  How just when you get them cleaned and diapered you have to start over from the beginning.  Again.  And again.  How when they are cluster feeding you literally have time for nothing else.  How every minute is spent on their base needs.

I forgot how easy they are.  How all their needs are basic.  They only eat one thing and will sleep wherever, whenever.  And above all they just want/need to be loved.

I forgot how wrecked I would be.  How hard labor, delivery, and recovery are.  How everything would hurt and I would feel like I was run over by a truck for weeks.

I forgot how much dirty laundry they create.

I forgot how awful nursing is at first.  How it's painful.  Really, really painful (don't let anyone tell you otherwise). How it involves two hands and tears (both the babies and mine).  How your body is a leaky, uncomfortable mess because of it.  And then how around week 4 - just when you're ready to give up completely - it gets better.  And becomes the most natural and easy thing in the world.

I forgot how simple they are.  There's none of the worry, decisions, discipline, or questions that come with older kids.  You can just snuggle them, for hours, and that's ok.

I forgot how complicated they are.  How tricky it is to find the perfect combination of swaddle, bounce, rock, hold.  How until you figure out what works for them (in this case to be put on his tummy with a solid back rub) you are utterly lost.  And how their particular soothing combination is always shifting.  How just when you figure it out it changes again.

I forgot how much older their siblings would become.  How in those first few weeks they grow into full blown kids.

I forgot how the sleep deprivation sets in.  How being bone tired effects everything.  As if you're living surrounded by a thick fog.  How you're not able to hold a thought in your head except for when the baby needs to eat.  How everything else is unnecessary information to be immediately forgotten (even if it's something that's actually very important.)

I forgot how you wake up one day in a sheer panic.  How terrified you'll be.  Only to find that your baby has slept through the night for the very first time.

I forgot how if you blink you'll miss it.  Because in an instant they are uncurled and alert and interacting and smiling and falling into a routine.  And no longer a newborn.

I forgot how no one really understands what you're going through.  Not even people who have gone through it before.  Because you forget.  You forget so much.