Sixteen Months: Laughing, Crying, and Still Marveling

It happens most often in the mornings, when everyone is (mostly) well-rested. After scrambled eggs and blueberry pancakes are finished and bottles have been guzzled. It happens amidst the restorative aroma of freshly brewed French roast, against a backdrop of constant, mind-numbing (yet festive!) Christmas Kidz Bop--yes, even in October.

There is Harry, opening cupboards and drawers, taking a stack of Rubbermaid lids from one drawer and putting them into another (thanks Harry, that drawer needed reorganizing!). There is Lucy, gesturing at the bin of crayons with the urgency of an artist who must create. And there are Lucy and Harry, fighting over stuffed fish and toddler-sized shopping carts and stacking cups. Collapsing into a dog pile onto the squishy blue carpet. Lucy uses Harry as a step stool, grabbing the back of his t-shirt as though it's a handle. Harry bursts into tears and throws his arms up for rescue.

That's when it happens. The realization, yet again, that there are two little ones in our house. One would think it would have sunk in by now, yes?

One toddler doing toddlery things (see below: washcloth on head) is adorable. Two? Well two is just ridiculous.

We've officially entered that tears in your eyes it's so cute (OK, maybe it's just me that gets teary) stage with the babies. They are such little comedians. And yes, almost every single day I am amazed by the fact that there are two little people in our house.

What's also amazing to me is they seem to know they are funny. Lucy thinks it's hilarious to put things on her head.

I guess babies like to make you laugh because they know you are so tired of cleaning up after them, you are in desperate need of humor. It's a thoughtful little gift that I do appreciate.


Harry, meanwhile, will climb onto or into anything (here, where he climbed the dollhouse? This is where I dubbed him Godzilla. Believe me, it suits him.)

He was so proud.

He panicked a little here, when he couldn't figure out how to get his foot out from under. And yes, he's sitting in a colander. Why do you ask?

As I watch these little people change daily, as I see them climb and peer and open and close and point, as they utter small, semi-comprehensible words, I am stunned once again and just as I was with Ellie, at the trajectory of their development.

I've often wondered, is it harder to have a baby with delays as your first? Not that it matters. In some ways I think it was easier because I had no idea what Leo was "supposed" to be doing. I remember running into an old friend when Leo was about nine months old. She knew I'd had a baby but didn't know the details and when I told her how old he was, she asked me if he was crawling. When I told her no she looked a little shocked, and quickly muttered something about every baby doing things at a different time. That's for sure. As a first-time mom I didn't know when most babies were "supposed" to do things (I wisely set aside What to Expect the First Year (as well the Second Year, the Third Year) since those books didn't apply to Leo in the least).

I was teased recently for marveling at the babies' receptive language abilities. What? Most moms of one year olds aren't throwing that term around?

Also? A little disclaimer here: I think only moms of kids with special needs can marvel without being self-conscious. I am in no way saying Lucy and Harry are amazing. I know they are doing what the majority of sixteen month olds are doing. But after having a baby who did nothing when he was "supposed" to? I think it's all pretty damn incredible. 

To wit: At sixteen months old, Lucy is already cleaning the house (that girl knows we need all the help we can get--wait--should I be insulted?). A few days ago she picked up a pair of socks I had left by the door when I took off my boots, and she brought them to the laundry basket. A few days later, Harry unceremoniously spit-up on the living room floor and I heard Lucy shrieking and stomping her little pajama footed feet. I rushed to her side to find her pointing at the little "bit" that Harry had left us. She was quite alarmed and disturbed by the predicament.

Harry doesn't have as many words as Lucy (who is just like Ellie was: total parrot who will repeat everything). No, our Harry seems to be speaking some variant of German. Everything has a "ch" or incomprehensibly "hard" sound at the end. Harry's strength for now seems to lie in his gross motor abilities and he's definitely the more aggressive explorer of the two. Have I mentioned how strong he is? The babies weigh almost exactly the same amount (about 23 pounds at their fifteen month check-up) and yet Harry has this inner core of steel. He is like Leo: pure, solid, boy muscle.

Last weekend I turned around and found Harry carrying around a bag of flour. He was tossing it about like a water balloon, actually. The other day when I took the two to the backyard to play, Harry was able to effortless barrel down our semi-inclined driveway with all the grace of a Jamaican sprinter. Lucy, meanwhile, who has been walking almost two months less than Harry, took about four steps downhill before smacking her forehead quite dramatically on the pavement. For some strange reason she was spared a goose egg.

They are both really into books right now, flipping the pages. (Upside down, right side up, no matter).

Mostly, they are like puppies. They love to play catch fetch with Leo's little foam ball, and when they see you gathering the coats and calling to them that "It's time to go," they rush to the door and stomp and press their little noses to the glass, so eager to go out into the world.

I was informed yesterday by my dear stepmother that I might soon need to stop calling them "the babies."

Nooooooooooo!

From the moment I found out we were having two babies, I've been self-conscious about saying "twins," for fear of lumping them together too much, robbing them of their individuality. I can definitely see the convenience factor of "the twins." We call Leo and Ellie "the big kids." So, why not "the twins?" I feel like these two will always be ma babies. But I guess, come high school? Babies could get a little awkward.

LucyandHarry it is.