Phrases I Never Thought I’d Say to Another Human

Poor little thing. You have bumps all over your fanny.

Let’s keep our hands out of our vagina.

Keep your hands out of your doo doo.

Just let me put this vaseline on your bird.
Oh, don’t wipe it in your eyes.

Why won’t you just snuggle with Daddy?

Let’s not eat leaves. No, no.

Stop playing with your penis and drink your milk.

Puking Baby, Walking Baby, Clapping Baby, Dancing Baby

Monday morning when I got Emaline out of her crib, I noticed some kind of dried goop in her hair and on her jammies. I figured it was snot or drool. No biggie.
We started breakfast uneventfully. The oatmeal was mixed and heated, the milk was ready, the babies were half asleep, we were half asleep. Emaline would not even open her mouth to eat any oatmeal. She has been picky about what food she would eat, what food she would spit out, and what food she would even accept into her mouth. Most food she likes to squish around between her fingers and rub into her eyes. We found out the day before that she would eat waffles. She likes using her hands. As I was heating up a waffle, gave her some milk.
She drank the milk with purpose, barely stopping to breathe. She was a milk-drinkin' fool. She drained it. I cut up the warm waffle and put it on her tray. As I was backing away, this fountain of milk came spewing from her mouth. Sparing any more raw details, we went through a few clothing changes before her retching spell was over.
Aimee spent the morning at home with Emaline (I came home at lunch to relieve her). No more vomiting during that time. Instead, lots of snuggling. Our daughter is the independent one of the twins. Keillor loves attention, thrives on it. Emaline would rather explore and experiment on her own. Until she gets suck, that is. Then she is more clingy than a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Mommy and daughter bonded.

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As I said, Emaline is independent. She is also determined. Right now, she wants to learn to walk. She practices every chance she gets. We have documented six independent steps in a row before either grabbing onto the nearest piece of furniture or falling on her butt. She has two weeks from today to walk before her first birthday. I can't believe they are almost one.

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While Emaline is practicing walking, Keillor has been focusing on rythm (no vowels in that word, hmm). He has learned how to clap. Sometimes we have to remind him by clapping for him, but then he remembers and can do it on his own. 

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 Both babies are starting to realize that music has a beat you can move to. When we sing to them or when a song comes on, we sometimes catch them bobbing their heads or swaying to the rythm. Very cool.

Brushing Our Teeth

As I think I mentioned, we have added tooth brushing to our evening routine. While they both like the feeling of the bristles against their teeth and gums, they like to be in charge of the brushes. In order to ensure that teeth get brushed, we bought two sets of brushes: one for them to hold, and one for us to use. We used the same technique when we began using utensils to eat.
Emaline still likes to be in charge and would prefer holding both brushes.

We are one month away from birthday #1. As we near this auspicious occasion, we are thinking about transitions, especially the transition from rear-facing to front-facing car seats. They can sit facing forward when they are one year and at least 20 pounds. Keillor is already almost 22 pounds, and Emaline is just under 20, so we may reach that point on June 2. We need to--their feet are already touching the back seat, which they kick incessantly, pushing their seats against the front seats. As you can see from the photo, Keillor's feet resemble those of Barney Rubble from the Flintstones.

Emaline's feet are slender and long, but they are ready for walking. She can take a step or two before falling over. Aimee thinks she'll be walking in the next month. As I dropped her off at daycare this morning, she stood at the baby's first work bench that Tina has and used the table saw. She is definitely a girl after her Daddy's heart. We need to get one of those work benches.

Twins fighting over toys. This is only the beginning.

Daddy on His Own

Aimee had to go out of town yesterday and today, leaving me at home alone with the twins--something she has done more than once (as in, she has taken care of the kids on her own while I was out of town more than once). While I am used to picking them up and getting dinner started on my own, bathing them, reading their nighttime story and putting them to bed is a two-person job.
5 p.m. Keillor is eating his herbed chicken and pasta like a big boy, but Emaline--who has been a sassy-pants lately--does not want her harvest vegetables. She spits them out, screams, and shoves her pacifier in her mouth. As I am focusing on that, Keillor grabs his bowl and goes after his dinner like a pig eating slop. He has a runny mess from forehead to lap. Emaline's mad, Keillor's a mess, and I'm alone.
I open up some prunes and apples for Emaline, forgetting that she had been pooping all day and that prunes were probably not the best meal for her. She eats them up, though, followed by her milk.
Dinner is done. On to bath time.
Keillor goes into the playpen while Emaline takes her bath. She sits up straight, lets me clean her feet, face, and fanny, and has a great time. Because she has a wicked diaper rash, I decide to let her air out while I bathe Keillor. Into the playpen with her, into the bath with him.
Keillor loves the bath. He splashes and laughs, bounces and squeals. With one eye on bathing him and one on naked Emaline, I scrub the chicken out of Keillor's hair.
He is just a rascally on the changing table as in the bath, so trying to put him in a diaper and pajamas is a struggle. Just as I get a diaper on him, I turn around to see me naked daughter, squatting like a quarterback, pooping in the playpen. She pinches off the first one, waddles a couple of inches, and squeezes out one more, all the while, her elbows on her knees.
I pull Keillor off the changing table, put him on the floor (can't put him in the playpen), scoop up the pooper, and take her to the changing table.
As I am cleaning the poo off of Emaline's feet and getting her into a diaper, Keillor is crawling into the kitchen to play with the furnace grate. He falls, bumps his head, and starts crying. I am telling him, "It's OK. Come to Daddy," while wiping ointment onto Emaline's bum. He calms down and returns to his mission.
As I am zipping her into her pajamas, he is standing under the kitchen table trying to climb onto a chair. I get her quickly zipped up, rush over and grab him, and take them both upstairs to bed.
5 a.m. They wake up. They normally wake up between 5:30 and 6 during the week, but this is a special occasion. I'm alone Breakfast features milk only, no oatmeal, because they shouldn't be awake anyway, and they will probably go back to sleep at 6:30. They do. No problems (except that Emaline does poop herself again, but just a peanut-sized one).
I am leaving school right now to pick them up and go through another dinner and bath service alone. I can handle it. I can. I...

Easter, Air Band, and Keeneland

So much to say. First off, we installed a baby gate to keep Keillor from running away from home, but also to keep L.B. away from the kids. The sweetest, kindest dog in the world does not like babies coming near her, and will growl and nip at them. Here they are taunting L.B. through the gate. Note that Keillor has stolen his sister's pacifier.

While they are the bestest of friends, they do not play well with each other all of the time, especially if Keillor has something that Emaline wants. Here they pretend to play with their Leapfrog together. This is a ruse. In a second, they will both want to play the piano, one will dominate, the other will fall over, and the crying will commence.

The baby gate may stop them from venturing too far, but they typically stop at the bookshelf anyway. It provides a great place to pull themselves up. Keillor is a fan of the Chicago Manual of Style. He likes it for its direct and simple approach to editing.

Not only is Emaline more advanced when it comes to transportation, she is also learning the ancient art of kung fu. Here she demonstrates her fight stance as she shares her motto, "Use what you got." What she got is a plastic spoon. Dangerous.

Easter Sunday brought perfect weather for taking photos of the twins in their Easter outfits (thanks Dad and Shelia). Emaline not only loves having her photo taken, but also likes playing in the grass. Her photo shoot lasted for a long time.

Keillor, on the other hand, may be allergic to grass, and did not want to pose for us.

With the arrival of spring come two major events: Air Band and the Keeneland poker party. Even though it didn't start until after their bedtime, the twins supported Air Band with their shirts.

Emaline also celebrated the coming arrival of Grammy and Pawpaw Dee by sporting a Keeneland hat. While the twins will be spending some time with the Grands, Mommy and Daddy will be gambling and drinking beer and wine. Fair trade, we think.

Standing Up For Herself

Emaline is mastering her legs. She can easily pull up and is working on trying to balance herself. She gets fuming angry when she lets go and has to latch back on to keep herself from falling. Sometimes she falls. She gets right back up though, determined to stand on her own.

Seeing this determination, Keillor is trying to follow in his sister's footsteps. However, he is much heavier and has a lower center of gravity. Not as determined, he gives up and crawls into the other room to get into trouble. This might mean hiding in the dining room, or just crawling into his tunnel.

We broke out the Pack-N-Play for playing this week. We took the twins out on the back porch while we worked in the yard. Covered in sunblock and hidden underneath an umbrella, they played together, or rather they stole toys from each other for an hour.

They are enjoying eating more every day (well, most days). Keillor is still trying to figure out the difference between eating and playing with his spoon. Maybe he's trying to eat the spoon. At any rate, he likes to bite down on it and squinch one eye shut like a pirate.

We have also started a new routine before bedtime: brushing teeth. At first they were...let's just say not interested in having toothbrushes shoved in their mouths. Now they enjoy it. We just have to remember to brush every night.

Keillor Crawled and Pulled Up--It is On!

The day after Emaline crawled, Keillor started crawling. They don't like to do anything alone.
Later that day, I pulled Keillor out of the tub, got him dressed for bed, and put him on the floor. I got Emaline and was drying her off when I turned around and saw Keillor climbing onto the fireplace hearth to get the toy train my dad made for him. I turned to go after him, but I couldn't leave a naked baby on a changing table. At that point, Aimee emerged from the bathroom in a towel and ran to get Keillor. We have plenty of time to baby-proof the house.
Emaline has mastered pulling up, and is now trying to figure out how to take the next step. She gets really frustrated when she tries to move her feet and falls down. Actually, just now, in the middle of typing this, Emaline, playing at my feet, just pulled herself up and lifted on leg (not to pee like a dog, but to take a step forward). I tried to help, but she doesn't want help. She wants to do it all by herself. I have pictures, but not loaded on the computer, so you'll have to wait.
They tried yogurt this morning. The freeze-dried astronaut yogurt is not their favorite, but Emaline chowed down on strawberry yogurt. Keillor was not too interested, but he ate a couple of bites. Other new foods include
lasagna--not so much
broccoli and cheese--yummy
custard--can't get enough

The sippy cups is still a device too complicated for the twins. They love to play with the cups and chew on them, but as for drinking from them, we're still working on that skill.

We have been running with the kids a couple of times so far. They like the wind in their hair. They're not so sure about the sun glasses.