As I mentioned in my last post, it's just going to be me and the girls for the next few weeks. Alastair leaves on Wednesday to go on tour in Europe and won't be back until the end of the month. I think he's more apprehensive about it than I am -- and understandably so. Given the choice between having to manage on my own with the girls for almost a month or not seeing them for almost a month, I'd definitely pick the former. (Incidentally, I've banned Alastair from reading Baby Daddy's accounts of how badly he's missing Josie while he's away.)

I've promised Alastair that if the girls appear to be on the verge of any major milestones, I'll do what I can to stave them off. So, if Elsa threatens to walk, she may suddenly find her ankles tied together with a shoelace. (Is that wrong?) Actually, although Elsa is getting good at standing up and cruising against furniture, I think she's got a ways to go before she's ready to take her first steps. A more likely scenario is that Clio might start crawling. This weekend while we've been down visiting A's parents she hasn't protested as vehemently as usual when we've tried to put her on her stomach, and a few times has gotten up on her hands and knees and rocked. Once she even took a tentative crawl-step foward. This resulted in her falling on her face, of course, but that's how one learns. Not just crawling, but most things.

I'm not too worried about being alone with the girls for so long; I mean, I know it will be tiring and exasperating at times, but I'll cope. It may even be sorta fun to have the bonding time. We'll do each other's nails, drink cosmopolitans, watch What Not to Wear. My mom's going to come down a few times to help out and look after them while I'm at work, some friends have generously agreed to help as well, and we'll be coughing up the cash for some extra sitting. It'll be OK. Mostly I'll just miss Alastair immensely, as I always do when he goes away. I'll miss having the four of us all together. Our family. (Holy crap, we're a family!)

Getting ready for this month, I've found myself thinking in a way I haven't before about just how much it must suck for military families who have to deal with this kind of separation all the time, on a much larger and more worrisome scale. A month alone with your babies while your husband is over in Europe playing coffee shops and house concerts is one thing. What if it were six, twelve, eighteen months and he was over in Iraq dodging roadside bombs? That's hardship. What we're about to do isn't.

Daddy's gonna miss his girls. (Here with Clio)