rocking

Three generations..

...of W sons (and one W daughter, not pictured, and me, not pictured, and two tiny babies, also not pictured). On a walk to the riverfront today. And really, after a cold cold winter, our first walk with the babies in tow. 

super auntie

Visits and morphs in to a horsey, a gourmet chef, a puzzle master, a diaper changer, a sword fighter, a snack maker, a grocery shopper and a baby toter all in a few short days.

all the Z cousins!

On request, for my mother...

goofing around

texting while...

O & Z, 1 month old

 Hard to believe a whole month has gone by...

I couldn't quite get a shot of the pair together today, as I'm not crazy enough to wake a sleeping baby just to take their photograph (and they weren't cooperating so much with the awake at the same time thing).

Edit 2/22/2013 (best I could do):

Martin's visit

 

stacked

to shave

He likes wearing beards more than shaving them, but this nice big brother gift sure has made for some fun in the tub this week.

little hand

...fits through the handhold of Grandpop's cradle.

nanook-style fun

...courtesy of winter storm Nemo, which snowed us in this weekend.

father and sons

Cuddly.

And animated.

hirsute imaginaries

Lincoln is definitely impressed by a certain category of imaginative figure. Mr. Paine the Circus Boss. Abraham Lincoln. Ahab. The Gentleman of the United States. Uncle Sam. Ahab. Captain Hook. The Evil Magician from the original Frosty cartoon. Ahab. Captain Nemo. The Bravest Knight. Ahab. The meanest pirate. Ahab. And really anyone with a full beard. Today it is a rendering of King Arthur from a book given to him by John's kind aunts that has captured his fancy.

His desire to dress as, and imitate, down to the tiniest detail, these characters from his storybooks (without any, honestly ANY, suggestion from us) completely astounds me.  John does feed his habit by reading him books and keeping a store of great films at ready. I feed the habit by agreeing to help make improptu hats or costumes on request (and try to tolerate his intense attention to accuracy during the process).  Lately I've been struggling with the best way to render full beards out of paper or other found materials, as they are essential parts of the costume according to Lincoln...but are deeply uncomfortable to actually wear on one's face. The whimpering and squirming and almost-crying that accompanies the beard fitting sessions testify to the importance of such accouterments and the difficulty in getting them just right.  And I,in such moments, (and Grama now too), in the interest of keeping the peace, frequently teeter on the brink of canceling the whole thing all together. But sometimes beards are shaped to his liking, and  then the pleasure derived from arriving at the picture in his imagination is so satisfying to watch.

 Today. the inspiration:

And the incarnation:

fatherhood...

...suits John.

first baths

Given by Grama. Zephyr was crying so hard, I didn't have the heart to snap a picture. But Orson didn't seem to mind so much. And, judging from the aroma of sour breastmilk,  spit-up and poop hanging about the place today, they were way overdue.

tired

When people ask how I'm doing--on the (lately) very  rare occasion that I actually speak with adult people--I say "O.K." And I AM doing ok. The babies are growing and healthy. I'm recovering well.   John and I have not yet been driven insane by the lack of sleep we are enduring ( thanks in part  to immense help from my mother).  And Lincoln hasn't mutinied yet. All in all, doing well,  doing the best we can, doing ok.

That said I wouldn't recommend this twin newborn thing to anyone. (See: my face, above.)

kind-hearted

Lincoln is doing very well with this whole big brother business. Thus far, he seems to  have taken the drastic change in our household routine in stride. "Teeny tiny baby, teeny tiny baby" he repeats over and over again, a mantra of sorts, as he kisses them multiple times on the top of the head. For the first few days he couldn't match names to faces; they were just "the bald headed one" and the other one. But now it's "Little Orson" and "Tiny Zehpyr" all the time. Despite being a ball of teetering energy he's managed so far  to tone it down and not jump, fall on or swordfight  his new little siblings. Though, if we are being quite honest here, it does make me nervous: having a rambunctious  three year old careening about the place at full speed around tiny little pupae-babes lounging on the floor. But so far we've avoided injury to teeny tiny babies and to Lincoln's well-meaning-but-oblivious ego.  He seems to enjoy helping get the diaper or burp cloth, and he even held Orson's bottle one time for about 5 seconds (during which I snapped this picture). But his favorite thing, by far, is kisses kisses and more kisses on the head--some gentle; some rendered with the kind of earnest pressure that barely masks what I'm sure are conflicted feelings deep within. He tolerates the endless crying and even prides himself on patting them and helping soothe their baffling angst. A kind-hearted brother, despite being suddenly outnumbered.  All teeny tiny babies should be so lucky.

zombie sunshine eyes

I hung this drawing  on the mantle in our bedroom in the first weeks after Orson and Zephyr joined our family. Rather poetically, Lincoln's first figural work took the form of sunshines and coincided with the day we brought his new siblings home. And now these balls of radiating fire have become a definite motif littering the corners and centers of much of his drawings. I see in this latest pair two little orbs of light bursting with warmth and life and two incredibly fatigued zombie eyes. And so these zombie sunshine eyes stare at John and I as we pace the petite confines of our bedroom at all hours of the night cradling tiny squawking strangers in our arms. A reminder of the worth of this tiresome endeavor.

sleepy Z

She sleeps. Not at the same time as her brother, usually, but she sleeps.

taking photos

It helps get me through these early days, this obsessive visual documentation. And I desperately need something to get me through. I imagine all parents of newborns do.

Grampa duty

Giving my mother a break for a few days, Grampa does a lot of baby holding.

And quite a bit of playing of that game of infinite patience:  'hide under the blanket'--with Lincoln.