The first quarter of 2010 just will NOT QUIT.
It started with the Golden Globes, and Jessica and me getting handed a March 15 rough-draft deadline for our novel. That was a two-chapter-per-week pace, and with two of us, it was twice as much work -- write a chapter, trade, work on the new one, trade back -- rather than half. Then we trucked through the SAGs, the BAFTAs, the Grammys, Fashion Week, the birth of my sister's first baby in the middle of a blizzard (she made it to the hospital), two family-and-friend medical scares that both turned out fine, and the Oscars, only to get spit out on the doorstep of Fug Madness with the really horrible sudden death of Kevin's father.
The details aren't mine to share, but suffice it to say everything turned on its head and my husband didn't get a chance to grieve at first because there was too much to do, to organize, to look into, to try and understand. Kevin is handling it all really beautifully. I'm proud. His eulogy was wonderful, and that's saying something, because I suspect other than putting one foot in front of the other on that first scary day of our boys' lives, this was the hardest thing he's ever had to do.
Dylan and Liam, though, are the magic sauce. They bring us so much joy every day, and having them with us the weekend of the funeral made all the difference to Kevin. Liam just cracked the 18 lb. barrier, and he's pretty much mobile, although he hasn't figured out how to get his stomach off the floor and tuck his knees under there. He just drags himself around military-style. He warmed up to movement by learning to turn himself in circles with his elbows and then combine that with rolling over; it got him from A to B, but via F and G and a pit-stop at C. Then, whenever he saw something across the room he wanted to go for, he'd smack his palms on the floor and grin really wide, then throw his limbs in the air and balance on his tummy with this really FOCUSED expression on his face that said, "THIS IS GOING TO WORK THIS TIME I JUST KNOW IT."
And when it wouldn't -- because, in fact, that is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what a child needs to do to crawl -- he'd giggle, and be all, "JUST KIDDING THAT WAS PRACTICE," and try again. He still does it sometimes, but now I think it's just a combination of habit and wanting to see how long he can balance that way.
Dylan can drag himself forward, too, but he does it less often. He's 14 lbs., 13.5 oz., and so he's not quite as strong even though he's more muscle than fat. He seemed to let Liam do all the hard work in terms of figuring out the physics of all this, then just watched and learned. I think it's going to be that way a lot.
Not that Dylan isn't curious and impulsive all on his own...
... but he's not as heart-on-his-sleeve.
Liam is also getting into wanting whatever toy Dylan has, even if he's holding a version of it himself. He also seems to think he can barrel through or over Dylan, if need be, and has a pathological obsession with my iPhone. Or any iPhone. He can spot one from yards away and will haul himself to it with a quickness usually reserved for genuinely awesome things like laminated airline safety cards. Dylan likes the iPhone, too, but Liam really goes apeshit for it. If you want to see him move, put an iPhone across the room, and he's gone. Dylan is content to gnaw on my sneakers. You can imagine how delighted I was to catch him licking the sole of my Skechers Shape-Ups. It really is true that you just have to throw up your hands and assume this shit's not going to kill them.
Unless it's grass. If you judge by Dylan's reaction to being placed on the lawn for the first time, that stuff is BRUTAL and made of KNIVES that want to PIERCE HIM like a shish-kabob.
Liam didn't LOVE it either...
... but he was more willing to roll with it. Dylan was NOT HAVING IT.
He flipped his tiny little shit, he did. We might as well have put him on the barbecue.
Next up: sand. Oh boy.