I love my kids, partially because they're awesome, but mostly because they're mine. Sometimes, though, since they're so little, I forget that they love each other, too.
Marty perks up whenever Edie comes into view. Edie will stop her running around the house to give Marty a kiss on the head. She loves to help me give him a bath. And sometimes I pick Marty up and make him walk over to Edie, bouncing him around and saying, "Here comes Marty!" Edie laughs her head off and puts her forehead right up against Marty's, and he laughs his head off, too. They seem to genuinely enjoy being around each other.
You wouldn't know it from this picture, though.
Or maybe you would? Man, I have no idea what these kids are thinking, sometimes. Edie spent a solid half hour this weekend lining up orange slices over the pictures of the U. S. presidents on a placemat we have. Sometimes I'm holding Marty on my shoulder, and he cranes his head around so he can puke down my shirt. (Remember how he threw up in my back pocket last week? He threw up in my front pocket this week, AT CHURCH. We live 20 MILES AWAY, so there was no going home to change.)
These kids, and I suspect all kids, are so, so weird.
Last night, Tamsen was getting ready to watch a TV show. Edie, seeing that the TV was on, sat on the couch and said, "I want to watch Daniel Tiger," figuring that the reason it was on was so she could watch a show. Tamsen told her that they were going to watch a Mama show, and Edie got pretty upset about it. Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, she shouted and wailed until eventually, she curled up next to Tamsen on the couch and fell asleep. After Tamsen's show was over, Edie woke up, looked at Tamsen, then got up and sat back down on the other couch. "I watch my show," she said, and made Tamsen turn on Daniel Tiger.
Marty's getting better at sitting up, and just tonight, he rolled from his back to his front without any help, which neither of us realized he could do. However, just because he's good at sitting up doesn't mean that he likes it. Sometimes I'll have him sitting in my lap while I'm trying to do something else, and he immediately arches his back and kicks his legs to try to get away from me.
These kids have some fight in them, that's for sure.
Edie used to adore the bedtime routine. When we told her it was time to put on her pajamas, she would come happily. She would literally run to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and she would hop right up on my lap for story time. Now, it's a battle to do any of those things. She screams and fights when we tell her she has to put on pajamas, and then she screams and fights when we tell her to take them off in the morning. All of this is to say that my grandma sent her new pajamas for Christmas, and the only reason we haven't sent her pictures yet is because we literally couldn't get her to wear them until just this week. Christmas in February is a thing, right?
Yesterday, I fed Marty a bottle, and when I rested him against my shoulder to burp him, he threw up all down the back of my shirt and into my right back pocket while I was sitting down. We're thinking of entering him in the Olympics.
Having children seems to be the greatest and worst thing in the world all at once. One second they're sitting on your lap with an adorable smile, and the next you're cleaning their poop off of your pants. It's wonderful, it's horrible, it's everything rolled into one.
Edie has been a joy to hear learn to talk. She's gotten very good at spontaneous speech, and is getting much better at letting us know exactly what she wants. She asked me to help her get a drink at church this afternoon, so we walked over to the water fountain. She's never really tried to use a fountain before, though, so after five or six failed attempts and water soaking her face, hands, and hair, she looked up at me and simply said, "Let's get a cup." She loves to help Marty take a bath and offers to brush his hair about ninety times a day. And she screams bloody murder when it's time to brush her teeth or put on clothes for the day, so, I mean, it's not all great, I guess.
Marty's adorable, as you might expect out of a four month-old. He sat and watched the Super Bowl with me and spent most of the time quietly wringing his hands as though he was truly invested in the high-pressure matchup. He's laughing quite a lot now, and even when Edie comes to kiss him or tickle him. And yesterday, while I was bouncing him on my knee, he threw up all over my face and even a little in my mouth.
These are the best kids, and these are the worst kids, and these are my kids.
