Friday, June 26, 2009
Sometimes I look at my kids and think "What happened to my babies? I miss my babies." But yesterday I watched two one-year-olds for two friends. Neither baby is accustomed to being with anyone other that his/her mother. I assured the mothers I would be just fine - after twins, I can handle two babies for an hour or so, no problem, right? And actually there wasn't much crying. It turned out to be a good chance to teach Liza about what babies like - peek-a-boo, pointing to pictures of animals and books and making animal noises to go with each, stacking blocks and making them fall down, it all started coming back to me as Liza and I put on a fairly constant three-ring-circus-like show for these two little people whose eyes dripped with tears and wails ramped up if we didn't keep things going just right. Everything worked out great and Liza and I felt quite triumphant when we could report to the moms that the babies were happy pretty much the whole time. But the experience reminded me how much work one-year-olds are. You have to watch them all the time. You have to entertain them a lot. You can't explain things to them. They are easily upset. They like everything done a certain way but can't tell you what that way would be. They are so cute and funny and entertaining - especially when they're your own, of course. But overall, after yesterday's experience, I'm feeling extra grateful for the stage of life I'm in right now. Babies in occasional doses are just fine with me.