Sunday, June 24, 2012

Tater 6 months

Dear Tater,

You have been a special part of our family for 6 wonderful months now!  You have such a great gummy smile that makes strangers at the grocery store coo and smile back, as if pulled by a magnet.  You are mellow and zen-like most of the time, although you fuss down to sleep, "Just getting comfy," as the Nugget explains it.  Your other main complaint about the universe is being strapped into your car seat, but we're about to switch to the honkin' convertible seat, so maybe you won't hate that one quite so much.  Still, you are an old soul, taking it all in with your liquid brown eyes, and chirping and squawking your wisdom at us like a little pterodactyl.

You are learning to sit, and you just started eating solids with gusto.  You are tiny and petite, and no one guesses you are really 6 months old, but your doc is way impressed with your growth rate.  You no longer resemble the frail tiny bird we brought home from the hospital.  You have perfect little baby rolls and folds, chubby cheeks, and a sweet button nose.  Your hair is a soft cloud of tight curls.  You are starting to teethe, so right now your chin is wet and your mouth is often open, seeking something to chomp.  As I type, you are starting to slide backwards on the floor, so life is about to change again for all of us.

You are happiest when you can watch both big brothers tear it up.  No one can make you laugh like the Nugget can.  You have a medley of burbly giggles that crescendos to a hissing, "Kee-eee-eee-ssshhh," a little like Ernie on Sesame Street.  (And it is not lost on me that Spork laughs like Bert.)  You are not a sympathetic crier like Spork, rather, you seem to double your efforts to smile and gurgle when he cries as if to say, "Life is too short to fuss!"  Your relationship with him is not-surprisingly twin-like.  You are competitors and partners.  Sometimes you lock eyes and hold hands, and it's like witnessing magic.

You are comfortable in most pairs of arms, but your eyes are ever seeking me.  It's an honor and a fear, because I am not the one deciding your future, I can't promise you that I'll always be there for you.  But I push those fears to the side, because the greatest gift is being able to be your Mima today, and today, I am here for you.

Love, Mima

Friday, June 15, 2012

Hilton Head 2012

The Nugget and his cousin Cabbage continue to wow me each time they get together.  My brother (Cabbage's dad) and I were inseparable buddies growing up, but I didn't expect our kids (with 3 years and 3 states between them) could be.  But somehow our children, born on the same blessed day, are attached at the hip, partners in crime, and I can't tell you how much that warms my heart.  The beach house rang with their little voices calling for each other all week.  "Cabbage!  Cabbage, come here!"  "Nugget!  Nugget, where are you?"

And perhaps even better, my own baby sister who is mortified by sticky hands, runny noses, and other assorted souvenirs of kid-dom, was willing to play ring around the rosie, comfort crying babies, and give piggyback rides.  The Nugget turned to her on the beach, unprompted, and said, "Aunt E, I love you."

Spork and Tater met the Atlantic for the first time.  Tater gave it an enthusiastic thumbs up; while she may not enjoy a chilly Midwestern lake girl, she approved of the warm saltwater.  She enjoyed sitting with me and letting the waves lap at her toes.  Spork was initially concerned about the movement of the water and the feeling of the sand slipping out from under his body, but pulled a Martha Stewart and decided it was A Good Thing.

Nugget Quotes from the trip:
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, knuckleheads!" (thanks for that, Uncle J)
"Uncle J, you're just going to love that (a York Peppermint Patty).  It is mint inside."
"Mushrooms!  Mushrooms!  Mushrooms!" (at the Savannah airport after spotting giant mushrooms growing on the lawn outside) - this seems like it should be from a Will Ferrell movie, doesn't it?  Maybe I'll send him some video footage for inspiration.
"Chompers (a plush alligator given to him by Uncle T) is a girl.  Actually, she's an old woman."

The re-entry:

We came home to a dryer with a busted thermal fuse, so I've been line drying our laundry.  While this is  a huge pain in the tuckus, I'm trying to be grateful that there is a nice big clothesline in our backyard, and we've had about a 2/3 ratio of sunshine to storms this week.  When I have a good attitude about it, I feel a little like Laura Ingalls Wilder, clipping tiny underpants and towels up to dry, snapping them off the line fresh and slightly crunchy.  When babes are a-screamin', and dinner's a-burnin', and there's a sudden clap of thunder, I feel slightly less romantic about hauling my still-damp load back in the house.

And because we are nuts, we have double swim lessons for Nugget and Tater this week and next.  That means 4 days a week, I am hauling my favorite trio to the campus pool for the Nugget's lesson, marching them back to the car, frantically putting overtired babies down for naps, then feeding them all lunch and heading back out to meet Daddy so he can generously watch the boys on his lunch hour so Tater can have her turn in the water, back for naps and excessive laundry.  It is chaos for sure, but it is worth it to see their smiling faces and eager hands splashing in the pool.  The humidity is so high on the pool deck that it immediately fogs my camera lens, so you will just have to imagine how great it is.