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• Walk this way

  Wow -- my second Aerosmith reference in two weeks. My true colors (leopard print and turquoise, that is) are really starting to show, eh? Well, as the boys from Boston said, you ain't seen nothin' till you're down on...um...on the floor, watching your kids take their first steps. Which we've been doing a lot of lately. And yes -- that's right, kids, plural. Inspired by her big sister, Clio has started walking a little, too. She's a bit more tentative, but she sure is having fun.   The timing for this couldn't be better. Alastair is headed off to the UK for a week tomorrow, and I'm headed to NYC for AWP the week after that. (The first time I will be away from the girls for more than 10 hours!! More on that later...) Both of us were worried that we'd miss the big ambulatory moment(s), so it's nice that they've already happened. And it's also nice that it's not really one moment, as legend (and TV commercials) would have you believe. At least for our kiddos, this walking thing -- like everything else -- seems to be incremental. There have been first steps, and now there's occasional, sort-of-walking. At some point, walking will presumably overtake crawling as the preferred means of locomotion, but we're not there yet.   The coolest part of all of this is how much fun the girls appear to be having with their new accomplishment. They seem quite aware that they're venturing into new territory, and quite pleased with themselves as a result. It's a hoot. So, if you need a toddling baby fix (and who doesn't?) here's a highlight reel of a recent walking-fest in our kitchen on Friday night before bedtime. (With apologies to Arthur, who we're totally copying by posting this.)   As you view our less-than-spotless kitchen floor, ask yourselves -- as we often do -- at what point do Cheerios cease to become food and become, instead, dirt? If you know the answer then, surely, you are on the path to enlightenment.     Posted Jan 20 2008, 08:44 PM by Roper with | with 15 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, Zen masters, twins, first steps, youtube

• And the winner is...

  I know a lot of you were rooting for the underdog -- we were, too -- but it looks like Elsa is going to be the big winner in the Ultimate Walking Challenge. On Wednesday, she suddenly started being able to stand unsupported, and on Thursday, she apparently took a few steps for Jean, our sitter. On Friday, on several occasions, she took three, four, sometimes even five steps toward us, smiling all the while, obviously excited by this new adventure. There were, of course, three times as many failed attempts, where her bottom half couldn't quite keep up with her top half. (Hot tip to would-be walkers: don't forget to move your legs!)   As exciting as it is, each time we've watched Elsa walk -- sitting there smiling and encouraging and reaching out our arms for her -- I can't help feeling a pang of guilt, knowing that Clio is being temporarily ignored. Not that she seems to care in the least. The first time, she clapped and grinned right along with Elsa and the rest of us. It's lovely the way they both seem to take vicarious pleasure in each other's happiness rather than get jealous.   Still, I find myself trying to "even things out" by turning my attention to Clio after it's been on Elsa for a little while; to praise her and play with her and encourage her to try walking, too. (I don't think she's far from it; she's great at standing on her own, and even better than Elsa at squatting down.) I have this fear that at some point she's going to start developing a complex about Elsa always being a step (ha) ahead. But maybe that's just the overachiever in me, projecting. Maybe, in fact, Clio will be happy to hang back and do her own thing while Elsa blazes ahead: You want to start coloring inside the lines, big sis? Hey, that's cool; I prefer to keep things experimental. You want to get your driver's license the day you turn sixteen? Sweet -- you can give me rides.   It's insane how early you can feel these dynamics creeping in. As hard as I try not to pigeonhole or project, I can't help wondering: twenty years from now, after they've taken psych 101 and maybe a creative writing course or two, are they going to come back and accuse me of irreperably messing them up or unfairly shaping their destinies because of how I perceived them and, hence, treated them as infants/toddlers? They'll have this blog for evidence, too! Shit! (Of course, that's a whole other conversation: the revenge of the blogged babies.)   All I know is, it's impossible to treat two babies exactly the same way, because they're two completely different people. And although I love them in equal measure, I love them completely differently -- something I never could have fully grasped before I had them. I just hope that the separate but equal (whoever thought that could be a good thing?) intensity of my love will come through to them, always.     Posted Jan 12 2008, 08:01 PM by Roper with | with 3 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, twins, walking, Brown vs. the Board of Education, love

• Eat this, bad nurse.

  The other day, I called my pediatrician's office with some food-related questions. (Food and poop, food and poop -- I think I could write a whole baby blog just about food and poop.) I spoke to a nurse, and asked her the following questions:   1. Is it OK to give the girls baked/cooked foods that have honey as an ingredient, even though they're not supposed to have raw honey? (Answer: yes, if it's thoroughly cooked, it's fine)   2. Is it OK for them to have baked goods--i.e. perhaps a Christmas cookie or two -- made with eggs even though they're not supposed to have egg whites until over a year? (Answer: well, yes, what can you do...and they have to have cake on their birthday, right?)   3. When and how we should start introducing cow's milk? (Answer: we can start now if we want, mixing a little into their bottles of breastmilk or formula and gradually increasing the amount.)   My final question was  about self-feeding. Both girls have gotten to be very adept at eating with their fingers/hands. And by "adept" I mean that slightly more food appears to be ending up in their mouths than in their hair, on their clothes, or on the floor. They are not starving. Anyway, I asked the nurse when we should start trying to get them to feed themselves with a spoon. Here is the conversation that ensued:   Nurse: They're not using a spoon yet? Me: No, mostly they eat with their hands, or we feed them. We've tried giving them those curved, "first spoons" a few times, but it hasn't gone very well. Nurse: What do you mean, they can't get the spoon to their mouths? Me: Well, yeah, they can. They're just not very good at it. And they don't seem to quite get the idea of dipping the spoon back into the bowl to get more. They just stry to stick their hands in. Nurse: (Sounding concerned) Well, you should keep trying. But if they don't get the hang of it, then it's something you should talk to their doctor about, because it could be a sign that there's some sort of developmental problem. Me:  (Pause) What the HELL is wrong with you, betch?   OK, that's not what I said. I said "sure, sure, right, right, thank you for your time," because I'm a sane and reasonable person and I know -- at least, I think -- that it's totally normal for 11-1/2 month olds not to be spoon-feeding themselves yet, and even if it isn't, I am not prone to getting freaked out if my children don't hit their developmental benchmarks exactly when the books -- or weird nurses -- say they're supposed to.   But imagine if I were a less informed, more nervous mother? And this idiot brings up the possibility of a developmental delay based on a few sentences over the phone? WTF? Frankly, it threw into question the validity of her earlier responses re. honey, eggs, and milk.    That being said, of course, I now feel compelled to start letting the girls try the spoon thing more often. So, today we gave it a shot, with baby cereal. The results were deliciously disgusting. As on past occasions, the girls were happy to hold the spoon and eat cereal off the end of it, but after that, they'd just stick their free hand into the cereal for another mouthful and, eventually, fling their spoons to the ground. I can't say I blame them. I mean, if you've got a perfectly good method for getting food into your mouth, why complicate it with utensils? Hell, in some cultures people only eat with their hands. Does that mean they're all developmentally delayed?   I will admit that I'm curious to know from you experienced moms out there when your little'uns got proficient with utensils, and how you convinced them that it was worth the trouble. In the meantime, here are the results of today's self-feeding with spoons. Glorious!         PS -- Quick dietary update, for those of you who recall my meat fears : The girls have eaten both turkey and chicken now, in the form of little shredded bits of it, and turkey meatballs. For some reason, once they both had two teeth and started spending more time standing upright and acting like little people, the thought of giving them meat didn't seem quite so...unsavory. And get this: they freakin' LOVE it. Sorry to all the vegevangelists out there -- looks like for the time being, anyway, these gals are carnivores.   PPS -- I'm still scared to give them pork.   Posted Dec 16 2007, 08:50 PM by Roper with | with 24 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, feeding twins, spoon feeding, meat, fear-mongering, annoying nurses

• Off-Crib Betting, Anyone?

  I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner. We've got two babies, both striving for the same developmental milestones. We never know who's going to be first to achieve the next one. They're both raised in the same conditions, the same environment. It's one big experiment in nature vs. nurture. So, why not make it a little more interesting, if you catch my drift?   I won't participate, of course, because it would just be wrong for a mother to bet on her own children. The last thing I want is to be known as the Pete Rose of the mommy blogging set. But as disinterested (and perhaps slightly interested?) bystanders, you can get in on the game.    Ever since they've been pulling up -- starting back in September for Elsa -- people have been saying they'll be walking "any day now." I think they've still got at least a month to go, personally. But who knows. Sometimes developmental progress happens in fits and starts. But the question remains: which twin has the Toni? And by Toni I mean not a bad at-home perm from the 1950s, but the will, the determination, the get-up-and-go to do that which separates man from meerkat: WALK! On two legs. (Meerkats can't do that, can they?)   Before you make your prediction, please take a moment to get to know the contenders, and consider their respective strengths:     On the right: Elsa "Give 'em Hell-sa" Margaret Moock Eyes: Blue Hair: Sedona Dusk  Body Type: Tall and sturdy. Interests: Nursing, bathing, cat food, Cheerios, peas, puttting blocks into a bucket, climbing stairs, squealing, whacking her sister on the head in glee, postmodernism   History: Elsa has traditionally been the more advanced of the Baby Squared twins when it comes to gross motor skills. She rolled over first, sat up first, started crawling first (7 months) and started pulling up to standing first (8 months). She's a confident cruiser, and has lately been doing a lot of getting up on one knee as if to stand, but hasn't made the final push to independent verticality. She's also gotten much more interested in more sedentary things of late, like cuddling and pointing at pictures in books. So, does she have what it takes to go bipedal? No doubt. The question is, when?   On the left: Clio "O Sole Mio" Rose Moock Eyes: Hazel Hair: Calistoga Taupe Body Type: Compact and tightly coiled Interests: Drinking from a cup, sticking tongue out, putting fingers in people's mouths, giggling, Cheerios, bouncing, taking blocks out of a bucket, thrashing, ska, hedge funds   History: Clio has always done things at her own pace, unfazed by the gross motor skill progress of certain other babies and generally preferring to focus on social and verbal skills / bemused observation. But in the past couple of months, she's made great strides in the mobility department. In October, she went from getting up on all fours to zooming around like a little roadrunner within the space of two weeks. She was pulling up by early November. And -- get this -- in the past couple of weeks, she has started letting go once she's up and standing completely unsupported -- at times for as long as 15-20 seconds at a time. Sometimes while clapping, to boot! Clio just might be the dark horse entry in....   THE ULTIMATE WALKING CHALLENGE!!   So, my friends, who will be first to take their first steps? The intrepid Elsa?       Or the maverick Clio?     Mesdames et messieurs, les jeux sont faits!   Posted Dec 12 2007, 09:17 PM by Roper with | with 13 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, twins, Pete Rose, first steps, questionable ethics, betting on your twins, gambling, walking

• I point, therefore I am

  Anybody who's anybody in the Baby Squared household knows that pointing is where it's at. Get your little index finger out there and aim it at your mother, your father, your sister, the cat, the couch, the wall, the inside of somebody's nostril....who needs a reason or a meaning, just point!   I wonder why this is a common developmental stage, this pointing thing? I suppose it's a form of communication: As in, "Look, I am indicating something." (My girls, at this point, don't seem to be pointing at things they want; they just point.) And at the same time, maybe it's a sign of developing self-awareness: As in, "I am aware that something exists outside of and distinct from my own self. Look! I'll point at it!" A third possibility is that it's just a by-product of improved small motor coordination (Hey! I can control these finger things!) that happens to get a good reaction from grown-ups.   Clio's favorite pointing maneuver is to do it E.T. style. She'll reach her finger out toward you, and if you touch your finger to it, she gets a big goofy grin on her face. (To match yours.) Another of her favorite things to do is point at your mouth. In this case, I recommend nibbling on her finger while making pretend "munch munch munch" sounds. Gets a laugh every time. The girl has always been into putting her hands in other people's mouths. Perhaps she'll be a dentist. Or a performance artist.   Elsa is a little more concrete with her pointing: she likes to point at pictures in books, and occasionally at the cat, while saying "dah!" But she'll sometimes play the the E.T. finger touching game with Clio. It's very sweet. (An aside: I think Clio is good at bringing out Elsa's sillier side. She's got her doing the head-tilting trick now, too. The two of them will sit in their high chairs side by side and tilt their heads onto their shoulders simultaneously, for no reason except that they seem to think it's cute. They're right!)   Anyway, maybe the next development in this point-fest will be the ability to point at actual objects to indicate need or desire. Like pointing to food or bottles or my breasts when they're hungry, or at a book when they want me to read to them, or at the door when they want to go out on a walk. For the moment, however, we're all just enjoying pointing for its own sake. It's a nice reminder of our own existence. Or something like that.   Posted Dec 07 2007, 09:59 AM by Roper with | with 4 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, twins, pointing, Extra terrestrials

• The dogs have their day

  A few months back, I thought that Elsa was trying to say "kitty," based on the fact that several times she exclaimed "ghee!" prior to lunging for our cat. Then she stopped saying it, and I told myself it was just a fluke. So, I hesitate to write this, because I don't want to jump the gun again, but I am reasonably certain that Elsa is now trying to say "dog." She pronounces it "dah!" (Note exclamation mark.)   When we were down at Alastair's parents' house for Thanksgiving, she started saying it almost every time she saw their two golden retrievers. She'd stand up against the glass doors leading out from the living room (the designated "baby" room in the house) or the sliding doors over the deck, and when the dogs approached she'd say "dah!" over and over again. Not just a babbling "dah dah dah," mind you, but a very pointed "dah!" (pause) "dah!" Like, "Hey! That's a dog! See? I know the word for dog! That's what it is! A dog!" And sometimes she'd even go up to the glass doors and say "dah!" when the dogs weren't there, like she was looking for them. (Maybe she was just saying "door?" Nah.) The corker: on our way home when we stopped at a rest stop and I took her out of the car for some air, she saw a woman walk by with a dog on a leash and said "dah."  (No exclamation mark that time, because we'd been crawling in holiday traffic and she -- like the rest of us -- was exhausted.)   Full discosure: She also said "dah!" several times while pointing to the drawing of Eeyore on the back of her new Winnie the Pooh rider toy thingy. Now, I realize that Eeyore's not a dog. But he's got four legs and a tail. Same goes for our cat, who Elsa is also now calling "dah!" So, maybe she doesn't understand the finer zoological distinctions that make a dog a dog. But she does seem to think that "dah!" is a word associated with four-legged animal-type creatures.   OK, even fuller disclosure: sometimes she says "dah!" for things that don't look remotely like a dog. But I swear, it's not just a random sound. I get the sense she's actually trying to talk. Or at least she seems to get the idea that when you make a sound, it can actually mean something. So, while I'm not sure "dah!" counts as her first word, I'm going to say it's her first proto-word.    Meanwhile, Clio's got a new linguistic trick of her own: sticking her (surprisingly long and pointy) tongue out and saying "la la la la la" when she hears music or singing. My dad swears she actually sang "Ode to Joy" after I played it on their toy keyboard, but I think she just got lucky. Still, there's definitely some kind of vocal mimicry happening. In fact, more and more, the girls are becoming little imitators.   Pretty soon we're going to have to stop cussing, spitting, and kicking puppies. Truly, it's the end of an era.    Posted Nov 27 2007, 09:00 AM by Roper with | with 5 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, first words, mimicry, dogs, Beethoven

• Bye-bye, Great Grandma

  I'm sad to report that last night Alastair's grandmother, the girls' great-grandmother, passed away. Bertha, or "Bert" as she was called, was nearly 97 years old, and was loving, gracious and whip-smart. Elsa and Clio won't remember meeting her, but they brought her a great deal of joy in her last months. And right now, they're providing a great deal of comfort to the whole family with their happy presence. They're (very cute) reminders that life goes on, new generations continue where the old left off, and that for as much sadness as there is in life, there's equal measure of joy.   Bert was wonderful with the babies the several times she visited with them. Though she couldn't always remember their names or who was who (then, plenty of people half her age can't either) she showered them with affection. "You're a shayneh kepelah!" she'd tell them. (Yiddish, meaning, literally, "pretty head.") And then she'd ask us, a twinkle in her eye, "You feeding them steak yet?"     Bert with Clio, 7 weeks old   I think it's so cool that someday Elsa and Clio be able to look at pictures like this and know that they were held in the arms of a woman who lived through two world wars and the Great Depression -- things that will no doubt seem like ancient history to them. Bert was the child of immigrants from Eastern Europe who came to Manhattan's lower east side at the end of the nineteenth century, looking for opportunity and religious freedom. They were garment workers, dressmakers. Bert was raised in Brooklyn, along with three sisters and a brother. When she married, she and her husband moved out to Long Island and up into the middle class. Bert's daughter (my mother in law) has a PhD from Columbia University and is highly respected in her field. Who knows what Elsa and Clio will do?   Bert and Elsa   Great Grandma, you will be missed.     Posted Nov 04 2007, 08:54 PM by Roper with | with 9 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, saying goodbye

• Flying Solo

  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)   Posted Sep 30 2007, 10:25 AM by Roper with | with 2 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, Single parenting, Iraq, separation anxiety

• The Good, the Bad, and the Curdy

  It has been a banner week for accomplishments in the Baby Squared household -- some good, some not so good, others neutral. What qualifies as neutral? Well, for example, the babies ate cottage cheese for the first time this week. I guess it's good that they've added another dairy product (in addition to yogurt) to their repertoire, and one with a little texture, to boot. On the other hand, well, who cares? I always get very excited about introducing new foods to the babies, and then once I do it, it's kind of like -- hey. Great. Cottage cheese. It's lumpy, it's curdy, it's...come to think of it, what is it, exactly?   But here is one recent development that is definitely, unequivocally good: THE BABIES ARE SLEEPING ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE NIGHT!! As promised, we stopped giving them their 10:30 feeding on Tuesday night, and for the past three nights they have slept all the way through, from 7:00 pm to 6:30ish, with nary a peep. Well, some peeps. But we've ignored said peeps, or gone in for a quick pacifier re-insertion, and they've gone right back to sleep. I can't believe it. We probably could have done this much sooner. Why the hell didn't we? I feel incredibly lucky; I know not all babies do this and I'm fully aware that they could backslide and probably will at some point. But for the moment....They sleep. Ah, sleep.   Another exciting milestone: Elsa pulled up to standing for the first time, on Tuesday afternoon. Right up onto the coffee table. I was, unfortunately, at work at the time, so I missed the big moment, but Alastair captured it on film. I knew she was on the brink; she'd been doing a lot of downward dogs and semi-pull-ups onto shorter objects. But on Tuesday, she did it for real. She got up on her feet and stayed there for a minute or two, totally on her own. Because she wanted to, and she could. How fucking cool is that?         Clio still isn't showing any interest in crawling or standing. She's content to sit on the floor or bounce in the Jumparoo, give us big, open-mouthed grins and Clio kisses, and tell knock-knock jokes. But she's working on some new moves, too -- like clapping, which she now does from time to time for no apparent reason. And Bronx Cheers. All of a sudden, the girl is constantly blowing major raspberries. Sometimes she's silly about it -- twinkly-eyed and smiling through her pursed lips -- but other times she seems quite serious: brows furrowed, lips puckered, saliva spewing hither and yon. Why does she do it? What does it mean? Should we take it personally?   Another recent development, which I alluded to in my last post, is our new bathing arrangement. The girls now get bathed in the bathroom, in their inflatable tub, inside our big tub. They seem to really enjoy this, but it's something of a logistical juggling act for me. It seems like no matter how carefully I plan, laying out towels and diapers and pajamas, getting everything ready and thinking through the order of things, somebody ends up hanging out naked for a while. Not that anyone seems to mind. (My apologies to Elsa, who's probably going to hate me when she's 13 for posting this picture, but how cute is that butt?)        I mentioned that there have been some not-so-good developments. Well, one, really, unless you've got issues with cottage cheese. I touched on this in my Product Review post, but changing Elsa's diaper has recently become quite an ordeal. She basically refuses to stay still. She flips over and gets up on all fours and sits up and tries to divebomb suicidally off the edge of the bureau. It's not so bad if I'm just changing a wet diaper, or trying to get her into PJs after a bath. But when she's got a messy diaper, it's the worst. She gets poop all over herself, I get poop all over me, everybody's poopy, nobody's happy. I've tried giving her toys to distract her and reasoning with her and holding her down as firmly as I can without feeling like Nurse Ratchet, but nothing seems to work. She's a strong little bugger. Has anyone else figured out some way to deal with this problem? Is it just a phase?   While you consider your reply, please enjoy this latest installment in the babies (and parents) in ridiculous hats photographic series: the first birthday party of our friends Todd and Michele's daughter, Mia. There was excellent ice cream cake at this party -- and no cottage cheese.     Posted Sep 14 2007, 10:15 PM by Roper with | with 10 comment(s) Filed under: Milestones, twins, cottage cheese, pulling up, impossible diaper changes

• That's how we roll

  One of the most fascinating parts about having twins is watching the different rate and order of their development. That is, once you learn not to freak out about it. Elsa, for example, started smiling a good three weeks before Clio. At that point, Clio was barely even making eye contact, leading us to conclude, quite reasonably, that she was either retarded, autistic or a serial killer. Possibly all three. Then Clio pulled into the developmental lead with serious conversational cooing (experience it live on video), while Elsa was still basically silent except for the occasional "Ak!" We started having visions of speech therapists and the short bus. Now, Elsa's "talking" just as much as Clio is. Not to mention squawking and occasionally randomly screaming in what seems to be pure glee. (I guess the short bus isn't entirely out of the question.)   Another interesting phenomenon has been the rolling over thing. From an early age, we dutifully gave the girls "tummy time" each day in an effort to build their torso and head strength, and to try to avoid baby pattern balding. (It didn't work; they've both still got bald spots on the backs of their heads.) At just shy of three months, Clio figured out how to roll from her stomach onto her back, and has been doing it ever since. She's only managed to go the other direction -- from back to front -- a handful of times. Often, while lying on the play-gym-mat thing, she'll roll onto her side and try to get onto her stomach, but after a little while, she seems to think, "eh. why bother?" roll onto her back again and start grabbing happily at the toys overhead. Elsa, on the other hand, is the back-to-stomach champion. Put that girl down on her back and she's over onto her stomach within seconds.       What does this say about their respective personalities? My only theory so far is that Clio, much like Plato, is concerned with the ideal, hence her preference for a heavenward gaze, while Elsa, like Aristotle, is more concerned with the earthly and empirical, explaining her earthward orientation. (See, I knew all the stuff I learned in Art History 101 back in college would come in handy someday.)   There is one thing, however, on which both babies can agree: Rice cereal sucks. We gave it to them for the first time last week, and it did not go over well. Elsa sort of ate it, but looked the whole time like I imagine my late grandfather would have if someone tried to get him to eat sushi. Game and all, because he was a standup guy, but a little suspicious of the whole affair, thinking; hey, I'll be a good sport and eat the stuff, but you know, there was a reason we defeated these people back in '45.       Clio, meanwhile, just gave us a look like, "you've GOT to be shitting me."     We've tried it three times now, and the expressions are pretty much the same each time. Will they get used to it, or should we move on to some other grain? Your solid food wisdom is much appreciated. Bonus points if you can tie in a reference to Plato and/or Aristotle.     Posted Jun 18 2007, 10:04 AM by Roper with | with 21 comment(s) Filed under: imperial Japan, Milestones, Aristotle, Plato, rolling over, Rice cereal