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  • Stop growing up!!

    I mean it. It has to stop. All of a sudden, I've got these two little girls who are on the brink of being, well, little girls, instead of babies. They are 21 months today. Three months away from being two, for God's sake. And as much fun as it is to see them learning and growing so beautifully, a part of me is suddenly aching for them to stay this way just a little bit longer.

     

    I didn't feel this way during the first year and a half of the girls' lives. I enjoyed them as infants, and tried to savor every phase of their development, but I was also eager for them to become more communicative, more expressive, more independent. I wasn't someone who fell madly, instantly in love with her babies. In fact, during the first couple of months I feared something was wrong with me. The girls felt like strangers to me. Cute strangers, but strangers nonetheless. They couldn't even make eye contact. (What kind of way is that to build a relationship?)

     

    The "falling in love" has happened gradually over time, and has accelerated sharply over the past year, as they've become so much more person-like. And in the past month or so, it feels like they've made huge leaps: they're more more curious and observant and engaged with the world. They can stay focused on a toy or a task for more than a couple of minutes at a time. They cuddle intentionally.

     

     

     

     

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  • And we're back.

    Home again, after a week at family camp in New Hampshire, followed by a few days in Vermont, where Alastair played in a folk festival. I am pleased to report that we had a really lovely time. In fact, this is the first time we've gone away with the girls that I wasn't dying to come home by the end of it. The secret: expectation management. As I mentioned in my last post, I went into this vacation with my eyes wide open, knowing it was going to be tiring and chaotic and nothing like pre-child trips of yore. But I very consciously decided not to be grumpy about this, and try, instead, to savor what is so fabulous and rewarding about having Clio and Elsa along for the ride.

     

    Like introducing them to the wonderful game of bocce. The balls were a little too heavy for the girls to pick up, so we played a little-known, ancient variation on the game where you run up and down the bocce court waving your hands over your head and squealing, and occasionally kicking one of the balls. (It's still played this way in a certain village in Sardinia, I'm told.)

     

     

    (More pictures after the jump)

     

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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.

     

     


  • Of Birthdays and Buddhism

    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.

     



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About the Blogger

Jane Roper

Jane Roper in Boston

One baby? Piece of cake. Try two. This working mother gives you the inside scoop on the ultimate in extreme parenting: twins.

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