Monday, September 21, 2009

Hey, that's the kid from daycare

I have a theory on why it takes so long for our children to recognize each other. They spend every day together all day. They don't see us that much, yet they have been smiling at us for weeks now.
Here goes: until that point where they look over and smile at the other kid, they don't see that entity as separate from themselves. Keillor is just like Emaline's arm. She is like his leg. These body parts are here, they act independently, and sometimes we get spit-up on them. Then one day we realize that we can control them. This hand can be used to wipe my nose. I can put this one in my mouth. These feet kick things. This, whateveryoucallit, keeps looking at me. Wait, maybe it's not part of me. Maybe it's like the feeder, the rocker, and the diaper changer.
Responsible parents that we are, we set Emaline and Keillor on the couch while we made their bottles. First, Emaline, who was the first to realize that her hands are good for hitting and eating, looked over at her brother. Then Keillor returned the volley, and added a sweeping arm motion.

Button stares at Bug

Their first communication as distinct beings began. My mom, their dear Grandmommy, created a fictional dialogue using these photos. I would put it on the blog, but Grandmommy included a

Keillor sees his sister.

word that, while hilarious, I cannot share with the public. If you want her to share it with you, e-mail her at

We have had other revelations, but I have been way too busy to update this blog. First, Keillor is a fan of television. Uh, oh. Secondly, they love bedtime stories. The Amazing Tales of Keillor and Emaline send the twins into a dreamy stupor, especially the story of the Sleep Maker, which they have heard a million times already. Finally, they really do look like twins. People are always talking about how Emaline is obviously a girl and Keillor is obviously a boy (again, that's, but get them matching outfits, and the cute factor increases exponentially.

Awe. Are they twins? Do twins run in your family?

I'll leave you with this image:

Sixteen weeks ago, our children were tiny, red, wrinkled knobs of flesh that cried, ate, slept, and peed. They were covered tip to toes with hair and were barely strong enough to use their arms and legs. Keillor was as yellow as Maggie Simpson. Next week is their official four-month birthday. So much development in such a brief period of time. I think I'm going to cry.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Holy Diaper, Batman

I have been to the heart of darkness.

I can still remember their first poops: black, tarry meconium requiring many wipes. Then came the odorless mustard--gross looking and quick to stain, but relatively easy to wipe up. The worst thing about this period was that they pooped every time they ate. Emaline would projectile poop as well. Big deal.

Rice cereal changed everything. Rice cereal makes baby bowels turn into cauldrons of demon potion. The date: September 4, 2009. That was the day that my daughter made me choke. Her poop, the consistency of Grey Poupon, smelled like the only things she had eaten the previous week were onions dipped in mustard. The first wave made me wince. Then the tears began to flow. I tried to make my arms as long as possible, using the tiniest sliver of peripheral vision to avoid eye contact with what can best be described as liquid hatred.

Then came Keillor's poop. His was the consistency of peanut butter, smeared on thick and deadly, an odor brewed over a week's time in the darkness of his tiny colon. I changed two diapers recently, one at midnight, and the other this morning. While both maintained their individual textures and aromas, neither was as putrid as the first AR (in the year of rice cereal) poops.

I have two questions: 1) How can two babies who came from the same womb and eat the same diet have such distinct (emphasis on stinc) bowel movements? and 2) Why do they always do this when I am the one changing the diaper? Aimee can't even remember the last time she changed a poopy diaper. I'm not complaining. She does plenty. I'm just questioning the universe's plan for me.

My sweet children making evil in their diapers

Emaline pretending her Bumbo is a toilet

Keillor belying his true intention to destroy my olfactory sense