Friday, October 31, 2008
I was contentedly listening to some old, sappy music, meandering down memory lane, and writing after bathing the kids and putting them down. The doorbell rang (again) and I opened it to find several six or seven year olds eagerly holding bags and grinning as they yelled the traditional, “Trick or Treat!” As a figure skating coach I often stood in front of groups of children much like this, encouraging them to be energetic and excitable. Without thinking, I joined in their enthusiasm and asked them to all tell me, before I gave them candy, what they were dressed as on the count of three. Of course they screamed it at the top of their lungs and woke up the babies. Didn’t think that one through. I closed to the door to find my husband smiling. He thought it was cute and said something, but I couldn’t hear him over the crying.
Monday, October 27, 2008
All of our babies babble incessantly these days. But a few weeks ago, one of our boys suddenly said, “Da da”. He had been slurring and cooing, alternately babbling and yelling, and he just blurted it out. I was elated to hear it, and as babies will do to one, I began babbling at him myself. It’s pretty amazing the antics to which I will resort to get a baby to respond. Jumping up and down, giggling weirdly, shaking my head and singing. Anyone watching would think I have lost my mind. Actually, they would know it. It is now a daily ritual. If I want to get his attention, I start repeating “Da, da, da, da . . .” and he laughs. I prefer to think he is laughing with me, but really he is laughing near me. The baby has no connection with what he is saying yet, but I melted when I saw my husband’s face the first time he heard “Da, da” from our baby.
After awhile it’s cute how they can all say “Da, da and ba, ba”. It is slightly less cute at 3 a.m. when out of the darkness we hear, “Da, da, da, da . . .Ba, ba, ba . . .” punctuated by shrieks and laughs and repeated with fervor and a decibel increase until acknowledged. Once we flip the light on we see faces squinting away from the glare and appearing suddenly tired. Are they trying to trick us into not sleeping? I swear the second we turn out the light and our heads hit the pillow again, ““Da, da, da, da . . .Ba, ba, ba . . .” How do they KNOW?!?!
Discovering each other has become part of the incoherence of our day. They look at each other and babble, responding in unrecognizable sounds and goofy expressions. When will they say, “Ma, ma” I wonder? Then all of a sudden, the telephone rings. I am shocked back into reality when I realize I have experienced a significant vocabulary reduction and must now actually use real words. It is MY mother on the other end, and all I can say is, “Hi”.