Ella and Maya: the nitty gritty

There is much to catch you up on about these girls and their daily evolution from more simplistic to more complex human beings.

I will begin with Ella.

First, Ella noted for the first time yesterday, while I was holding her, that I had not yet brushed my teeth.

Thank you very much, Ella.

We were waiting in line for me to get some lab work drawn ("Good thing it's you and not me!" she said) when I smelled something less than savory.

"Do you need to poop?" I asked, discreetly of course.

"Nope. I just tooted," she answers, sans discretion. "Twice. That's why it's so smelly."

Thank you again.

Today at breakfast I was explaining why no more syrup would be dolled out for the syrup with waffle she prefers for her first meal of the day. I've started using the we-are-your-moms-it's-our-job-to-take-care-of-you-and-make-sure-you-don't-get-cavities argument. She told me I was aggravating her and then,

"Enough is enough, Momma!"

Do I really say this?

The other day she yelled to me to get the very adventurous and speedy creature that is Maya out of the living room. "No babies allowed!" she yelled. Where is she getting this stuff?

We made bagels the other day and she wanted to help put the Sesame Street Seeds on them.

And...sorry for more poop talk but this has to be said. I inquired about the possibility of an accident the other day when she was playing. I was fairly certain there a was a clean-up needed in aisle 5. She shook her head no. "Are you telling me the truth?" I pressed.

Not wanting to lie, she fell back on this one: "I am not available to talk to you right now."

What a wondrous and frustrating experience this going out into the world and becoming your own person is!

And then there is sweet little Maya. And by sweet I mean rougher than a redneck bar on a Saturday night and by little I mean as in baby giant. She is in the 90th percentile for height and at 10 months is in 12-18 month clothes. This is a sharp contrast from Ella who was always a few months behind the clothing sizes and still had some 2T items she wore this summer. I guess Maya has gotten those giant Carver genes after all.

Maya is all rough and tumble and likes to be thrown around, carried upside down, and rolled around on the floor (and, no, I don't mean in a shaken-baby-syndrome kind of way.) She has taken to crawling with hands and feet instead of knees. This is my favorite stage of babyhood- they are so independent, mobile, inquistive, frisky, funny, and have some concept of what is going on. She and Ella played with the dog leash for half and hour yesterday morning. Maya is at the stage where she "gets the joke" and thinks Ella and Sandi and I are the funniest people ever. I think I have to agree with her there.

However, Maya still thinks sleep is for sissies. She has a new found sense of separation anxiety which lends to crying and then screaming when we leave the room to put her to sleep. She loves her crib and usually falls asleep so well but recently, as we turn to go, she pulls herself up on the crib rail and gives it all she's got, peering desperately through the slats like she is in baby jail.

What this means for me is that instead of getting up 2-100 times a night to settle her with a quick kiss and a pacifier re-placement, as soon as I depart she begins the howls. Amazingly, this doesn't always wake Ella up but last night it did and she said, "I don't want to sleep in here." Who could blame her?

A few nights ago when the crying just wouldn't abate and it was close to time for her feeding, we picked her up and brought her in our room to try a bottle (which we have since dropped entirely and I think she is sleeping better now without the interruption of the dream feed and I can't help but hope that this might lead to actually sleeping through the night.) She was uninterested and only wanted to play. Perfect.

So we started singing. Some simple campfire songs to start. Then we stepped it up a bit with a more complex three part song. Before we knew it the three of us were swaying in the dark, Sandi and I singing in rounds, sounding unbelievably like the Von Trapp Family Singers from the Sound of Music (except with 7 fewer members.) We were getting ready to launch into a tricky four part harmony (tricky because there was only the two of us) and Maya finally gave up.

I just can't fathom what it would be like to get into bed and know, with some level of certainty, that I was going to sleep all night. I can't even really recall what it feels like.

I can sum it all up with this: I took our Vue to the car dealership for its 2 month overdue state inspection yesterday. Turns out there is some problem with the engine exhaust and it is likely leaking carbon monoxide. It must be fixed before they can issue the sticker (for a mere $600) and they told me to drive it as little as possible. The guy sat me down and gravely told me he didn't want the kids in the car with the fumes. They even want to come pick it up from us Friday when the part is in so we won't be driving it. No problem. We were heading to the hospital to have lunch with Sandi so we swapped cars.

It wasn't until I was driving home, the girls safely buckled in the fume-free van, that I realized it. I hadn't thought anything of leaving the danger car for Sandi to take. And she didn't think a thing of it either. We just knew our beloved girls could not be in danger. I was sort of appalled to think that I hadn't hesitated to let Sandi drive the scary-fume Vue- Sandi whom I love in ways that I could never have imagined and could never succeed at describing. It's just that those girls are our charge and we put them first. It is hard to remember being the center of my own universe, especially when Ella asks if it is her turn to talk two seconds before she stops what she is presently discussing, but it is all good. Love is love and we are surrounded, infused and inspired by it.

And someday... Sandi and I will be at the center of each other's worlds again. Not without our girls, but just with a little more space.