I feel like we're getting to the tip of an iceberg here -- with the boys finally five months old, they're three months in developmental time, and that means they're going to start ripping off milestones like it's a sprint, not a marathon.
[Dylan, left, and Liam]
For the past three weeks they've been smiling a lot, and they're getting very chatty. Dylan likes shouting, "Agoo!" and the other day, Jessica was saying the word "cheeseburger" to Liam over and over, and every time, he shouted a random string of vowels at her with a huge grin. Apt that this should turn out to be his new favorite word, as I think it will eventually be my 14-pound behemoth's new favorite food. The doctor thought that was hilarious. He was like, "Of COURSE."
The latest shiny new toy, so to speak, is the ability to roll over onto their stomachs. Both of them have been working so hard at this, lying on their mat and turning onto their sides, straining to make it the rest of the way. We'll stand over and cheer them along, but they just couldn't seem to figure out how to whip around their hips and shoulders. Liam would lie there for ages trying so hard, wriggling and struggling and getting so furious because he couldn't figure out what the heck to do with the arm he'd pinned.
Until Sunday, when 11-pound Dylan -- aided by his comparative scrawn -- flipped over twice. He was so startled. Then, of course, Liam had to keep trying... and failing. But both of them that night rolled over in their swaddlers. When I came in to check on them at 5 a.m., both were snoozing merrily on their tummies with one arm free, its fist in their mouths, having rolled on the side with the arm still inside the blanket. And when we try to roll them onto their backs, they object. They IMMEDIATELY snuggle back onto their stomachs.
This, of course, rings every SIDS alarm bell in our heads, since everything we hear is about smothering risks and the like. But there comes a point where they get strong enough to do this stuff, and with that comes the ability to -- hopefully -- push themselves up or over or away if the mattress is feeling too close. I'll tell you what, though, I am RELIEVED we didn't buy any of those pillowy crib bumpers. They're awfully cute, but with the way these dudes wriggle and roll in their cribs, they'd be toast. Liam was practically kissing the side of the crib in his sleep last night. That'd be a pillow in his face if we had bumpers attached. We decided to scrap the swaddlers last night so that at least all limbs are free for whatever propulsive activity might be required, and it was a restless night for Dylan and for us, though Liam sacked out admirably. It'll get better. The swaddlers were our security blankets, and it's time for us to learn to live without them -- and for the beans to learn to settle without them.
They're so funny and cuddly and cute. The weight disparity is bigger than ever, but the doctor isn't concerned for Dylan -- developmentally he's a bit behind Liam in all the ways you'd expect of a smaller baby with less fat to hold him up, but he beats him on other things. They're reaching, they're grabbing, they occasionally notice each other but rarely act on it... we're having a fun time and it's only going to get more awesome. I think nature's brilliance is, in part, the way that babies get more hilarious and engaging and cool as they grow into toddlers, CONVENIENTLY right as they also get more crazy-making and stressful and active and EVERYWHERE. For example, say, right when you want to glue their hands to the carpet if they try and climb the bookshelf ONE MORE TIME, they do something so fabulous that you are tempted to reward them by letting them. We're on the cusp of that time now.
Disclaimer: I would neither glue my children's hands to the carpet NOR let them climb a bookshelf.
