Now that Elsa and Clio have passed the 6-month mark, it feels like we're suddenly in a new phase of babyhood. It includes, but is not limited to:
1. Food. I was going about the whole solid-food thing rather nonchalantly, thinking of it as a novelty more than anything else. Something fun for them (and us) to try. Some days, if it wasn't convenient, we skipped the solids altogether. Then, last week at the girls' 6-month doctor visit, their pediatrician said we should definitely be giving them solids once a day - both a vegetable or fruit and some cereal. And within the next couple of weeks we should start offering two meals a day. I felt rather stupid for not knowing this, as I try to keep up with the latest in childcare Best Practices, particularly those that fall under the topic of "how not to starve your children to death." I didn't want the doctor thinking I was a complete idiot, so I tried to make up for it by using the term "extrusion." I don't think she bought it.
2. Sippy cups. Did you know that there are 728 types of sippy cup on the market? And that if you don't get the right one, your child will develop gum disease, a Hapsburg chin, and late-onset cleft palate? I didn't know either. In fact, I didn't even know we were supposed to be introducing a cup, but the pediatrician said this was a good time to do it. Again, me = clueless. So now we've got two orthodontically correct sippy cups which the girls fling around, suck on, and occasionally even manage to extract some Coke from. Ha ha! Just kidding! Water. Of course water. I just wanted to see the looks on your faces.
3. Twinteraction. (Forgive me) The girls are really starting to take notice of each other now. If we hold them up face to face, they'll smile and babble at each other, then reach out and grab each other's hands / noses / mouths / cheeks -- sometimes gently and sometimes with great, violent gusto. Fortunately, they're not actually fighting yet. Occasionally they'll grab toys out of each other's hands, but neither seems to mind. ("I had the colored plastic thingy and now the colored plastic thingy is gone. OK. Whatever.") And when they kick each other in they head while they're lying on a blanket on the floor it appears to be mostly accidental.
4. More predictable sleep patterns. We're now regularly putting the girls down for a morning nap at around 9:00 am, and usually they'll sleep for at least an hour and a half. Clio has even done a couple of marathon three-plus hour snoozes. (She takes after her father.) Our attempts at a regular afternoon nap have not been as successful, particularly where Elsa is concerned, but at least we've got the nights down to a science: in bed by 7:00, dream feed at 10:00/10:30, nurse when they wake up at 3:30 or 4 am, nurse again and up an at ‘em by 7:00. We asked our pediatrician if we should try to eliminate the 4 am feeding, but she said no, it's normal for babies this size/age to still need two feedings in the course of a night. "But what about all these people who say their babies started sleeping 12 hours straight at four months old?" I asked. "I don't know," our pediatrician said. "I think maybe they're lying."
5. Awareness of the cat. All of a sudden, Elsa and Clio have taken notice of the other small creature that lives in their house. When she walks into the room, they are transfixed. Elsa, in particular, lights up every time the cat appears, and will just sit in her exersaucer beaming at her. Enjoy your last days of relative peace, I want tell the cat. (Whose name is, confusingly, Ella; we got her when we first moved in together, 9 years ago, and weren't exactly thinking about what we might want to name our children someday.) Pretty soon those babies are going to be grabbing your tail and "petting" you (slap! Slap slap slap!) and appropriating your food, because we won't actually remember to move your dish somewhere less accessible until we catch one of them with a mouthful of Friskies. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
6. High-pitched, glass-shattering squealing. Both babies have simultaneously decided that this is the best way to express any emotion - joy, anger, regret, ennui. Mostly joy, though. This is fine, even cute, except when we try to take them out in public, and their joy gets up in people's business. You can't tell a six-month old to please use their "inside voice," so you have little choice but to take it outside. ("It" meaning your business, not the baby. I mean, yes, the baby. But I'm not calling a baby an "it" is what I'm trying to say.) Anyway, I'm glad the girls have found their voices, but I hope they both end up being altos or at least mezzos.
And that's the news from Baby Squared land, where the woman is strong, the man is good-looking, and the babies are squash-eating, cup-sipping, morning-napping, cat-loving high sopranos.
