Me Big

Maggie napped in Rosemary's bed today. She didn't tumble out, though when I peeked in on her she had turned herself sideways and had her head kind of hanging over the edge. She's been lobbying to get out of that crib for awhile - "Sleep O-ro's bed (more on the O-ro thing later) - and she was really satisfied to give it a try today. I heard her reading in bed for a bit, enjoying the taste of the big kid's life. (She reads like this: "Ya da da da da da da da DA." The big DA always marks the end of the page.)

I'm of two minds of this development. The cribs are the last vestige of control we have around here. Neither girl is a crib vaulter (yet), but I can't count on them both believing in what a good friend of ours wisely called the "mind crib" - as in, they don't get out of bed because they still think they can't or maybe shouldn't. 

With our loss of control comes the beneficial trade off: their control.  They now manage stairs nicely, we don't have to hover around the side of the jungle gym, etc. Maggie in particular is all about taking care of things: "Me big!" she announces often. Yes, you are big, Maggie. Little but big. She wants to get herself dressed and sort of can, although she gets stuck on pulling her pants over her bottom and asks for help: "cover up butt." She was very motivated and earlier this winter learned the flip trick for getting her coat on. She wants to scoot everywhere ("Me 'coot") and pretty much can when given the opportunity, although Jason is better at trusting her to stop at intersections than I am. 

Sylvia is happier to be taken care of. She likes to ride in the stroller. She is a clingy little monkey, loves to be carried around, and does NOT want to put her coat on by herself yet, thanks very much. She occasionally wants to try to get her clothes on, but is less insistent on doing it on her own and doesn't fret when you rescue her from a tangled-up pajama top. She sings when she walks, pausing to wiggle her hips from side to side in a spry little dance. She loves to sing the alphabet and twinkle twinkle:

Both girls are getting tons of new words all the time. For us, it's a bit like learning two new languages at the same time, where you have to stop and think, ok, are we speaking Sylvie or Maggie right now? For example, pajamas are "jobbies" in Sylvia and "gegaws" in Maggie. Go figure. It's been especially fun to hear what they call each other and themselves. Sylvia says Maggie quite clearly and correctly, and has been calling Rosemary "Ro-Ro" for some time. She calls herself See-bee still. Then there's Maggie, who originally called Sylvia "Heyday," which has since changed to "Dee-bee." She calls herself Nommy (not sure why), but just today for the first time she called herself Maggie. Everyday something new and wonderful. 

After months of working on it, Maggie has finally mastered the doorknob. Not all doorknobs, but - of course - particularly the bathroom doors. She walked in on me the other day, although I had fair warning because I heard Jason trying valiantly to call her off. The door opened, Maggie looked in, stood for a beat, just looking, and then said, "Peekaboo."

Maggie notices when anything is amiss and works to fix it. I know I've mentioned this before but it continues to astonish me. The other day, Rosemary was in the bathroom and asked for more toilet paper. I went in to help and met Maggie on her way out. She had already gotten a new roll out and handed it to Rosemary. If someone cries, she starts looking around for something she knows will comfort them - a lovey, a tissue to wipe a nose, etc.  Don't get me wrong - she's a two year old, not a teeny saint, and she engages in plenty of hair pulling and pushing (usually accompanied by maniacal laughter). But there's an inherent sweetness and generosity in Maggie. 

And silliness too: Tonight neither Sylvia nor Maggie were in the mood to sleep, and Sylvia was still chatting and singing and generally rabble-rousing when I brought Rosemary into bed twenty minutes later. Maggie was quiet. But when we walked in, she was standing in her crib silently, wearing a pair of red sunglasses. 

I admit the little girls' bedtime has been a bit perfunctory previously - because it could be! - but now they are adding elements. First, they run around a lot avoiding things. Brushing teeth, putting on pajamas, bath time, the usual etc. Then they want us to read them an old Sesame Street book we have. Actually, they rarely have the patience for us to read them the whole book, since what they really want is to get to their money page, a page that has 5 or 6 different pictures of Cookie Monster eating cookies. They like to kiss the Cookie page. One of the things I'm finding fun about twins is how they pick up on and join in on each others interests, strange though they may be. Maggie is the real Cookie fan. Sylvie is an Elmo girl herself, but this book predates Elmo.

ccc