I don't know why that feels weird. I think part of me still keeps everything at a bit of arms length because I usually refer to them as "the girls". I have two daughters. My daughters. Weird.
It almost feels like when I say "my daughters", there's a ton of story and explanation that needs to go with that. I still feel like there's some sort of caveat to that phrase that needs to be explained, but there's not. They really are MY daughters. This is real. They aren't going away for at least another 17 years. I'm really going to get to experience holding hands to cross the parking lot, don't hit your sister, first day at school, zits, crushes and falling for the wrong boy (or girl), learning how to drive, all that.
I even have trouble fathoming that my body grew them. They lived inside of my body. I still find pregnancy to be this incredible, otherworldly concept that I'll never be a part of, and yet I've done it myself! I've been there! You would think I would be able to comprehend how that works. How people grow inside of other people.
I created this person.
And I created this person.
And I created them at the same time.
Sometimes, they still just seem like elaborate pets. Like the cats I adore, but who will always have this separation from me since we can't fully communicate like grown up people.
We're a family of four. I have 2 daughters. I'm their mom. K is their dad. It's just so weird!