At 9 1/2 months, the boys are starting to get around. Rolling every which way, sliding backwards under the couches, jamming their legs through crib slats, pinning themselves perpendicular in their beds (until I can rescue them). But the good news is… they’re on the move.
When Ali and Sami were about to start walking someone asked me, “Are you going to push them back down to keep them from moving?”
Heck, no! I said. Once they’re ambulatory I won’t have to bicep curl two babies at a time, or make two trips everywhere (first one, then the other). Independence is a good thing!
I love sitting the boys up, scattering toys at their feet and watching them. They’re content when they have each other.
Occasionally I hear giggling in the living room. Usually I find one has toppled over and rolled around to get close to his brother. They chomp on each other’s fingers, bump heads, press a heel into a tummy, or pat each other on the back. Sometimes there is scratching, hair-pulling and tears. But mostly they seem to enjoy razzing each other. Maybe it reminds them of the good ‘ol days. In utero.
I’m pretty much in love with these little guys.
Yep – It’s a love fest around here. If they were edible I would have munched them to pieces by now. Yesterday I noticed a big ‘ol zit on the side of my nose. (This happens when I nuzzle them too much.) To date, I’ve counted six. Acne on the forehead, chin, and nose. So loverly. But I can’t quell the kissing and nibbling.
I love morning time – opening the door to find both boys on their tummies, looking through their cribs at each other “talking.” Wednesday morning when Spencer saw me, he took a long noisy breath in, then whooshed it out with a loud squeal. As soon as I picked him up he buried his head into my shoulder, grabbed my face with both warm hands and gave me the sweetest eskimo kiss. Then he tried to eat my nose – which just made me laugh harder.
Maybe I’m reading too much into his love language. But he seemed so excited to see his Mama. And I soaked it up.
“Every time I see your bubbly face, I get the tingles in a silly place. It starts in my toes, makes me crinkle my nose, wherever it goes I always know… that you make me smile… please stay for a while now, just take your time, wherever you go… When you kiss my nose, the feeling shows, cause you make me smile…”
We’ve been out for a few walks since the weather has been warmer. Sometimes I have to stop and tip my face to the sun. Drench my skin with light.
The girls have been riding their new bikes. They are picking up speed.
But a few days ago, what should have been a stroll turned into a roll…er coaster ride for the boys. A friend of mine, who was driving by, stopped to chat. I put the brake on our double stroller, then turned my attention to her. Seconds later she made a gasping sound and pointed frantically behind me.
I turned around to see the stroller spinning down a slight grade fast enough that I couldn’t get to it. I yelped as it bounced into the gutter then flipped over on it’s side, landing at a weird angle, almost face-down. I righted the stroller (no crying yet) simultaneously shaving a fair amount of skin off of my right shin only to find the boys perfectly non-plussed. Wide-eyed but not very concerned. They must have thought, “That was fun! Should we do it again?”
Turns out Sami decided to flip the brake up and watch ‘er roll. That’s Sam for you. Experimental.
“Don’t touch that – it’s hot Sam.” She touches it. “Sami – don’t pick that up. It’s gross.” Picks it up. “Don’t go in the street Sami!” She jumps onto the asphalt. “Sam – don’t touch the toilet water.” She dips her finger in.
I’m learning to rephrase things in the positive. “Put your hands in your pockets.” “Leave that on the ground.” “Stay on the grass.” And to avoid future roll-overs, “Leave the stroller alone” (!)
Saints be praised. No harm done.
Alright. I’m done gushing over my boys and their munificent cuteness.
But before signing off, here’s a little clip of Gordon. This week he figured out how to mimic my kissing sounds. What a charmer. Listen carefully and you can hear Ali yell, “Mommy? I had a stinky in the toilet.” Keepin’ it real folks. Just keepin’ it real.
Five children in four years, including two sets of twins, brought new meaning to Mary Oliver's earnest question. Our little people aren't so little anymore, but life is still wild, still precious. And this is my meager attempt to hold on, make it last. I love Doug, running, hiking in the mountains, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, the edge of an ocean, and connecting with you here. So happy to have you along.