Today is Clio and Elsa's six-month birthday. Since they were born in late December, which is a lousy time of year to be born from a kid's perspective - your birthday can easily get lost in the holiday shuffle - I'm all for making a semi-big deal out of their half birthdays in the future. (Get it? Semi?)
This year, however, the extent of our celebration will be eating the leftover cake we saved from the baby shower, which has been taking up valuable real estate in the freezer. And this is really more of a celebration for us than for them, seeing as how they can't eat cake. (Speaking of eating: thanks for all of your solid food suggestions. We moved on to oatmeal, and it's been going over much better than the rice cereal. Veggies are next. And yes, Grandma Moock, APPLESAUCE!)
Six months. Half a year. How far these babies have come! In this last month, it seems, they've made especially huge strides. They don't feel like infants any more, but true babies: eating solids (sort of), sleeping swaddle-free, hanging out in the ExerSaucer and manipulating the various toys with what appears to be actual intent (Flip that monkey! Flip that monkey!). Elsa is well on her way to sitting up - she can sit leaning forward on her hands for a good 10 or 20 seconds before toppling over. And Clio, well, Clio has a great personality.
Both girls have become infinitely more expressive, too, with their laughing and babbling and smiling. They still do their share of fussing and crying, but most of the time we can identify the cause. At times they seem so person-like and aware of the world that I half expect them to open their mouths and start talking. "They're starting to seem like actual kids sometimes," Alastair commented recently. It's true.
And then they gleefully barf breastmilk all over us and we remember that they are most definitely still babies, and it's a relief. Because while I love watching them grow and can't wait for them to be able to interact even more, part of me wants them to stay little forever. I'm finding myself preemptively nostalgic for these days of prime, delicious babyhood - for Clio sucking on my cheek when I lift her up out of her crib to feed her at 4 am. For Elsa beaming up at me from the changing table and then attempting to stuff her entire foot into her mouth.
So I'm doing my best just to take it all in -- not to be too focused on milestones or birthdays (half or whole) or the anticipation of what's next. I'm trying hard to stay in the moment, be mindful, accept and enjoy. I'd say that having babies has reinforced this easier-said-than-done concept more powerfully than anything or anyone I've previously encountered. I'm incredibly grateful for it.
Clio and Elsa, Zen masters.
