The kids are in their respective routines, which means we’re due for a change. I can only hope that any change does not involve an ambulance or a long wait at an ER, but the Universe pretty much ignores my hopes—unless you can see a fully tricked-out Audi S8 lying about. I do not and I’m still waiting.
We continue to wait for William and Maxwell to take their first steps. I guess they are in no hurry, seeing as how they get carried everywhere anyway. Their little personalities are developing and they are just a delight to see.
We have a fenced-in play area downstairs with a billion toys to occupy their time; we call it The Pen or, sometimes, The Big House. They love playing in the Pen, but after about an hour they lose interest and need to get out. They wail to signal their displeasure. Honestly, you would think they were being tortured.
There are two options for activities outside The Pen: crawling about, or scooting about in their walkers. Both are fraught with danger—not only can they hurt themselves, but Papa gets annoyed at having to rescue someone for the eight hundred thousandth time. For example, when he’s crawling, William comes to the dining room table and can just peer over the edge.
William is very interactive and photogenic after his nap.
Maxwell is a happy baby. Note the scratch on his forehead.
And they love to go to the park.
Matthew is going through changes. He is far more verbal than he was two weeks ago, and the change is noticed by his teachers as well as by us. He’s a little chatterbox who has no unvoiced thought. Much of the day, he asks us the names of things: “What that?” “What that?” Other times he tells us what has happened to him. He doesn’t have the vocabulary or the linguistic skill, so after he tells us something we have to dissect it by asking twenty questions. “Did you mean this?” “Can you say that again?”
My brother John visited last week, and Matthew still asks every morning:
Matthew: Where John?
I: He went home.
Matthew: He come back?
I: Not soon, but yes.
Matthew: Good.
He’s had a lot of falls lately. Yesterday, his nanny told me that Matthew was riding his scooter pretty fast when he hit something and went flying over the handles and cut his lip. Matthew can be a drama queen (where did he get that?!) so he milks every injury. By the time he came home from the park, he was fine but when asked him about it, the tears welled up.
Later last night, we were playing in his room before the impending teeth brushing/bathtime trauma when he jumped onto his crib—and slipped. His mouth hit the frame and there was a fair amount of blood. Oh, the crying! We had to skip both teeth brushing and bathtime and while I don’t want to be that suspicious parent, I can’t help but wonder if he staged his injury. This morning he was still dramatic about it.
He got to spend some time close to a firetruck yesterday.
He has taken no nap for the past three days. This is not a welcome development because we all need that nap.
All you men are so handsome. Maxwell has the cutest impish expression in his post-nap photos
A granddaughter story you will understand. Steph (our amazing daughter-in-law) has two sisters, one of whom has a really nice boyfriend. Henry likes Sammy, but of course Sammy won't have anything to do with him. For no reason whatsoever! Except maybe because he makes eye contact. Steph says to Sammy (who turns 2 today), "Julianna is coming to visit you tomorrow." 🤣 Sammy wheels around and says, "NO HENRY!" So there's that.