Yesterday morning, as we were getting ready for our daily post-breakfast walk, I put on Jamie’s sweater. He got up from my lap, walked over to the hat bin, found his hat among the others, and handed it to me.
I don’t tell these stories to brag about how my children are geniuses (though I joke about their brilliance). It fascinates me to see the connections they make without us explicitly telling them so. I am honored and privileged to see their brains develop in this way.
More updates I forgot:
- If Audrey does not get what she asks for (to read a book, for me to pick her up), she will put her forehead to the floor and wail. Briefly. I think she has figured out that this gets her what she wants. Interesting.
- Audrey also knows if she’s not supposed to be doing something: if we say, “Audrey” in a warning tone, she looks at us, then crawls in the opposite direction as fast as possible.
- I love Jamie’s rolling gait when he walks, like a sailor on the deck of a ship on high seas. He can now make it across a room by himself.
- Theresa has discovered climbing stairs, but she does so while holding on to an adult’s hands and taking giant steps.
- Theresa has also discovered taking things apart and putting them together. She liked the lego-like blocks at my parents’ house, and now likes the eggs that Liz and Ben gave us for Christmas.
- All three can point to their ears if asked, as well as their heads.
We continue to rely on the kindness of strangers. Going through security at Logan Airport, the woman behind us spontaneously started piling my bags onto the conveyor belt, then asked what she could do to help. Since I was collapsing the stroller, I asked her to entertain Jamie, who was (understandably) fussing in his car seat. She picked up the seat and started swinging it to calm him.
At Cuffy’s on the Cape, there were five stairs between the main floor and the children’s section (I can’t be the only one in there with a stroller, so this layout seems odd). As I struggled to pull the double jogger up the stairs, two other parents and an older woman converged to help me carry it the rest of the way.
Yesterday morning, I stopped a woman walking her Golden Retriever to ask her to fold Jamie’s hat brim up because he couldn’t see, and he was on my back so I couldn’t reach it. She happily obliged (and then told me I must have my hands full, which seems the stock response to multiples moms).
This morning did not go so well.
Last night I delivered some baby goods to a friend and his wife who just came home from the hospital with their five-day-old son. They let me hold the baby. I got all weepy. However, they were both deliriously tired and overwhelmed. I wrote to a twin-mom-friend: “Thank God we never have to relive those newborn days.”
Audrey woke up crying inconsolably at midnight and at 3 am. She and Jamie woke up crying at 6:05 am, and Theresa was also awake. Alan and I slogged through this morning; he went to work (and presumably to more cups of coffee) and I put them down for their morning nap.
Which lasted 45 minutes and ended with Audrey and Jamie crying again.
Jillian, our new nanny, helped me entertain them until early lunch and very early second naptime. Jamie has been talking to himself ever since.
Some days are like this. Some days, God’s wicked sense of humor is all too apparent.