Post Weekend

Nothin too fancy, but here's what the weekend (actually, just Sunday.  These pictures are all from Sunday) looked like 'round here...

Mostly it involved looking super cute.  Except Caden kind of looks like a ghost.  I guess the lighting was super funky for a moment or something, because here is proof that he is actually not a ghost at all:

We were getting ready for babies' very first grill-out.  Not pictured: the grill-out.  What? I'm supposed to take care of two babies, drink my beer, eat my food, socialize with my friends, AND take cute pictures all at the same time?  Maybe if I was some sort of wizard.

We also liked looking at ourselves in the mirror while we took a bath.  And yes, I am using the plural pronoun "we" here, although it is clearly only Brooklyn who is taking a bath while looking in the mirror.

Exclusive behind-the-scenes photos of Daddy taking the pictures, which we also found fascinating.  More fascinating than our own selves in the mirror, it seems.  (Speaking of the mirror, holy bejeezus does that need to be cleaned.  Someone should really get on that.)

Caden seemed to find his bath SUPER enjoyable.  I have to say, if I could sit in a gigantic, soft, comfy, me-sized flower I would probably find bath time to be this enjoyable also.

Then, like most of us, Caden proceeded to contemplate the meaning of life while soaking in the bath.

"Hmmmm..."

"Ahhh...eureka!"

So while he seems to have figured out the meaning of life, he can't talk quite yet, so we'll have to get back to you on that in the next year or so.  Maybe it's just sitting in a gigantic, soft, comfy, me-sized flower while taking a bath.

I also realized that Caden is no longer my little lump.

For reference, this was Caden a mere seven weeks ago:

...and this is Caden now:

I knew they were getting bigger and all, but holy crap does this illustrate the difference.  It appears the "frogger" days are over already.  I'm trying to get them to slow down on this whole "growing" nonsense, but it appears to not be working.

Pictures

 Babies are cute.  Especially these babies...

I think we have a redhead on our hands...

...and she has cute hands (ha!).

Not to mention the cute toes.

Caden always looks like he's about ready to take off to the skies.  Or punch somebody out.

D'aw come on, just look at that face.  I'd let him punch me out.

But I've been thinking a lot lately about the photos I've been taking, and while I capture some wonderful, beautiful things, I'm not able to capture some of the MOST wonderful, beautiful things.  You can see that these guys are super adorable, sure, but how can a camera capture:

• The absolute ridiculous curliness of Caden's eyelashes.  They almost curl back over on themselves.
• The way their cheek smooshes against my shoulder when they are all tired and cuddle-y after feeding, and the limp surrender of their bodies.  And the way their little hands clutch for purchase against my arm as they are snuggled there against me.
• The way Brooklyn smiles when I appear to pick her up from her bassinet in the morning.  Her mouth gets so big it looks like she is about to swallow me whole.
• The energy and excitement of their entire bodies as they move and move and move and squirm during playtime.  Seriously, I've tried getting it on video, and it's just not the same.
• Their absolute trust as they snuggle against me, absolutely sure that they will come to no harm.
• The little contented sigh that Brooklyn has once she is finished feeding, especially at night, and settles back down for rest.
• The intensity of Caden's eyes when he is in "Caden-mode": moving his arms and legs almost non-stop for up to two hours at a time, without making a single sound.
• The back-and-forth bobble of their heads as they try to hold them up.
• Their little tongues licking my shoulder when I put them there to burp or cuddle.

These are the things I want to remember, even if, or maybe especially because, I can't get them in a picture.  And in a way that makes them all the more precious, because so many of these things are just for my eyes.  I'M the one who gets to see their smooshed up cheeks, and to feel their fingers scratching against my arm.  Brooklyn is smiling for ME every (well, almost every) morning.  I guess these are the reasons that people idolize and love being a mom.  Because seriously, no one in their right mind would otherwise want to deal with the amount of crying, poop, spit-up, being spit-up ON, lack of sleep and, oh yeah, the whole GIVING BIRTH part.  Like I said...it's a good thing they're cute.

Two Months (Three Days Late...)

Smiles

We had our first smiles here a couple of weeks ago.  The first real, "I'm happy and want to show the world" smiles, not "this is either just gas or a completely random facial expression" smiles.

They are still a pretty rare occurrence, though (suddenly, a wild smile appears!).  I finally got some photographic evidence of their smiles at playtime, which apparently was extra-fun yesterday.  

Ok, this is admittedly not a smile.  It is a pretty cute Caden mouth, though.

Iterations of a Brooklyn smile.  And then we remembered that we had a tongue, which is our favorite part of our anatomy right now.

Caden is not impressed.

Or is he?

Those last two pictures make it look like Caden is some sort of massive chubs, which he is absolutely not.  Weird angle?  In fact I'm really curious to go to their next doctor appointment.  I would not be surprised if Brooklyn outweighs him by a good pound.  Girl can eat.

The best part of their smiles is when they are more purposeful.  Like when I went to get Brooklyn out of her bassinet yesterday and she broke into smiles once she saw me.  I'd like to think it was the mere sight of me that could cause such elation, but in her head she was probably thinking nothing more than, "Yes...FOOD!"  I'll take what I can get.

Life with Twins

There is nothing in this world quite like snuggling a baby.

Although yesterday I would not have said that.  Yesterday-a day even with my mom's help-was nightmarish.  If one baby wasn't crying to be held, the other one was.  They were awake constantly.  My normally calm baby was fussy.  My fussy baby was even more fussy.  Spitting up (read: projectile vomiting) was a regular occurrence.  We were lucky if an outfit lasted five minutes.  Laundry piled up.  They wanted to nurse every hour (sometimes really, sometimes that's just what it felt like).  My mom and I-two grown women-could hardly handle their constant demands, along with doing enough laundry to stay afloat, having a chance to eat SOMETHING to keep our strength up, and taking the time to change our own clothes after being spit up on for the twelfth time.

And then today they were perfect angels.  Back on track with a schedule (at least as much as an almost-six-week-old has a schedule).  Naps happened.  Clean laundry became more than just a dream.  

Growth spurt?  An off-day?  The moon was in Aquarius?  April Fool's?  I'm not quite sure, but it's amazing how you survive one day just to tumble into the next, never quite knowing what might happen.  One day you can't wait to put a baby down for just FIVE MINUTES TO MYSELF PLEASE and the next you pick them up for a half-hour of snuggles just because they are cuddly and cute and adorable and because you can.

And really, how cute are they?  (Also, we haven't quite gotten the hang of hey-look-at-me-while-I'm-pointing-a-camera-at-you.)  A half hour of just-because snuggles?  Totally worth the fussy days.  Just remind me of that the next time one of those days rolls around...