Where do I even begin? How about with our car ride the other morning when you were both singing with me?! Jane, you started to get fussy (as you are wont to do anytime you're in your carseat for longer than .75 seconds)so I quickly turned off NPR and turned it to one of your fun kid cds (your daddy thinks it's less fun, but that's a different story altogether). And you two got down to business. The business of singing along. You're pretty funny and particular when it comes to music. You certainly have preferences and we have to skip some songs because they make you hollar. Like the Muffin Man song. You guys are NOT fans of the Muffin Man. But the rest of the time, Lucy, you just sit back there sweetly and croon along, getting especially into it when there are any "la-las". And I'm pretty sure that sometimes you're both less than impressed with my singing along, so that's when you start to really belt it out. Who knew that my 15 month old kids would already be drowning me out? When we're in the house listening to music, you girls like to dance. Luce, you get this big smile on your whole face - eyes light up, eyebrows lift, and you start to wiggle. Janey, you've been known to shake your cute little bum or do your fake jump (this is when you're convinced you're jumping - squat down, push up fast, but the feet don't leave floor - well, occasionally the heels come up...).
We've recently had mountains of snow, and our neighbors built a giant snowman, complete with lei, crazy leaf hair, and button nose. The two of you have been SO intrigued by Mr. Snowman. We went over to take a close-up look the day he was built, and since then, the front door is one of your favorite stops as you pull back the curtain and yell, "snowman! snowman!". When he started to melt the other day (hurray for non-freezing temps!), you two seemed confused, sad, and then decided you needed a snack. Thank goodness for short attention spans.
Jane, you're such a sweet girl. And, I'm just going to say it. That surprises me. Because it seems contrary to your nature. You're a speed-demon, an adrenalin junky, a bulldozer. And you're a sweetheart. You plow right through, over, into your sister, and the next second, you bring her a cracker. Or her favorite frog. You race around the house, bare feet slapping the floor at a frantic pace, and you swing by me for a quick kiss.
Lucy, you have oodles of words, but you still won't say your name. Or at least not "Lucy". You have apparently decided to call yourself "Lulu". I hesitate to write that here because I'm definitely not committed to the idea of Lulu being your nickname so I don't want to encourage anyone else to call you that. Let's give it 6 months or so and see if that's what you're still calling yourself. In the meantime, it sure is sweet when I tell you to say Lucy, and you smile at me and announce Lulu.
Ladies, you love your body parts and naming them. Luce, you're most fascinated with your knees and your "baila". I always think you're wanting to dance when you first say that, which must mean that Sra. Schultz really did a good job of frightening the Spanish into me way back in high school, but then I quickly remember that you don't speak Spanish (that I know of), and you're actually talking about your belly. Jane, you recently called it your baby button, but the absolute funniest thing you've done to date was the other morning when you pressed that outie all the way in, smiled at me, and proudly announced "OFF!". You can turn lights on and off, why wouldn't you be able to do the same with your baby button? Good thinking, kiddo.
If it's possible (I write "if" because I'm honestly not certain), you two are becoming more fun, more yourselves, more lovely by the day. And each evening, when I check in on you before I go to bed, my heart does a double beat, and I think, no, there's no way you can get any better. And then you do!
All my love,