Eight Months: Here For Almost as Long as We Waited For Them

Eight days old

As each month passes, and I go to document the babies' development, I could easily just lead with "where does the time go?" because, eight months? Eight months old?

Eight months old

No, really.

Where does the time go?

They've been here with us now for almost as long as we waited for them.

I've said it before but now I really mean it. They're becoming little people. With personalities.

Harry is sitting up independently (he loves it).

While Lucy's been babbling seemingly since she was a few weeks old (seriously, she's almost as chatty as Ellie--I wonder where she gets it -HA HA-she has Miss Nonstop Chatterbox as a big sister). But in the last few days, Harry has found his voice. It's gravelly a deep and sounds a little like Donald Duck.

He's such a dude, I swear. Look at those thighs. I'm in love with them. And his feet? So chubby, I refer to them as fat with toes. This morning, when I had to ask him to suck it in so I could snap his diaper he gained a new nickname. "Big & Tall."

Lucy is teething. Still. Boy those little ivories take their time. It seems like she's been thisclose to getting them for a few months, but the misery seems to be coming to a head, because she is suddenly Whiney McWhiney Pants A LOT of the time. She will chew anything and everything that comes her way (she's gnawing on my knee right now, no joke). I love that little peanut girl but sometimes it feel like nails on a chalk board and the only thing that soothes her is being held. Which is wonderful and completely understandable and I try to do it whenever I can but there's that whole Other Baby thing to contend with. Speaking of Lucy, she's still not sitting by herself but is very content on her tummy. If you set her down on the floor she does move from point A to point B, albeit very gradually. And I'm still not sure how she does it. She's a big fan of a move I like to call the Sneaky Pivot.

She's still a social butterfly who craves people, faces, laughter and conversation but she's also the shyer one who is not a great fan of new people and for now has more separation anxiety. She gets bored easily and loves when you play with her. Harry is content to play by himself for longer periods but both babies love when Leo or Ellie or better yet, both of their big siblings pay attention to them.

Now that the babies are sturdier and completely interactive (that sounds like the description for action figures, but you know what I mean) Leo and Ellie are constantly asking me to "put them on the blanket." It's fun, yes, but requires a bit of supervision, as you can imagine.

I think it's safe to say Leo and Ellie have found Harry's ticklish spot.

I never thought I'd say this about the one previously known as Fussy McCranky Pants (or something to that effect) but Harry has become, dare I say it? Mellow. Except in the middle of the night when he cries like someone stole his puppy.
(We did try a new sleep system last night for the Hair-Man, more on that to come.)

Life is definitely easier than it was in those early days. I feel the same way I have for a while: some days, I can totally do it. Other times, what we're expected to do seems completely and utterly unreasonable. I am still stunned by how little I can accomplish in a day when I'm home with just the twins. The days fly by. I feel like I literally look up and it's 4 p.m. and time to meet Leo's bus. And yet I look around and wonder what the hell I did (I know, I know, kept babies alive, but still! What did I do?) Throw in the big kids and whooee, by 5 p.m. I am cooked. There is always something to do and the work is never, ever done. And I assure you, I have lowered my standards. In a way, I feel like I am just starting to get the hang of being home, just as I'm on the cusp on going back to work. I've learned not to do laundry every day (otherwise I feel like all I do is laundry), try to get out at least once a day on the days Ellie doesn't have school or a class. I've figured out how to make an actual dinner that can involve chopping things up instead of just defrosting. It doesn't happen every night and my intentions are usually loftier than the end result but hey, a girl can try.


Harry: the strong, silent type. Lucy: that girl cracks herself up.

Eight months in and I still feel like my life was hit by a truck. An awesome truck, an amazing truck, a We Didn't Know You Were Missing Until We Got You Truck, but yes. A large, powerful, chaos creating truck.

Make that trucks. Plural.