Lucky Number Seven

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Seven months.  We’re officially closer to one year than we are to their birth.  TERRIFYING.  I often wonder how nobody has stepped in to correct the obviously egregious mistake that led to me being the mother of two.  But then I look at my babies and find myself completely besotted and unable to begin to imagine my life without them.  And I realize that if anyone tried to take them away from me, I would rip out their jugular.

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Both have become incredibly vocal in the last month, switching between pterodactyl screeches and babbling without missing a beat.  Their favorite (only?) thing to say is DAADADADADAAAADAAADADADA.  Pretty much all day.  They look so happy when they say it, too, like they know how proud and excited they make me and BB.

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Since we did sleep training over Christmas, both girls are sleeping well – 12 hours every night (minus one or two pacifier retrieval missions that last less than five minutes) plus about three hours of napping throughout the day.  They’re also becoming AMAZING eaters.  They both love fruit (LOOOOVE), and are also superfans of spinach (SERIOUSLY).  They get so excited to see their bottles or the little tupperware of puree, it warms my cold dead little heart.

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They’re making leaps and bounds in becoming miniature PEOPLE, with their PERSONALITIES and stuff.  I feel like it’s starting to go SO FAST – each new day brings something new they’re able to do, and I can barely keep up.  I’m LOVING seeing both girls grow into who they’ll become, but I’m already sad that so much is behind us.

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We didn’t have a doctor’s appointment this month, so no weight/length updates.

Rosemane Maxine

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Oh, girl.  Your CBF and judgement eyes are the legends drag queens whisper to themselves about.  But you’re also quick to open your mouth ALL THE WAY and show off your four teeth in a huge smile.  You tend to be more open than your sister, flinging yourself into people’s arms or opening your face to smile and babble at anyone who enters your line of sight.  When you’re hungry, though, you turn into a bear, scrunching up your eyebrows and making your whole face angry.

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You bounced back SO HARD from your four month doctor’s appointment, where your motor skills lagged behind your sister.  You grab everything in your reach and try to shove it in your mouth – toys, your sister’s face, remote controls, any binkie, momma’s shoulder….whatever you can reach.  You like being on your tummy, where you can grab at things and play with them without accidently dropping them on your face.  Rosy, you’re trying so hard to crawl.  SO HARD.  Your version of trying involves lifting all your limbs and waving them in the air while you’re balancing on your chest as though you’re swimming, which is…not working…but endearing to watch anyway.

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My Rosy girl, you love your food.  Like, SO MUCH.  You have no time or patience for playing with the spoon, or pretending you can’t lift up and hold your own bottle, when there is food on the line.  Seeing momma or daddy walk in with a bottle is cause for a full body celebration, with hands flailing and pterodactyl screeches for days.  You leap forward to meet the spoon during mealtimes – as long as you’ve determined it isn’t green beans on the spoon.

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Rosy posy porridge and pie – the little girl who made me a momma, who was an only child for exactly ONE MINUTE – I cannot wait until your words catch up to your sass.

Madeline Elizabeth

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Oh, Mads.  If your sister’s shade is the whispered legend, yours is the master class.  You’re much more guarded than your sister around new people, pinching up your little mouth so your eyes look twice as big as they already are while you observe them.  You eventually warm up as much as Rosy, but it takes longer.  It isn’t enough that momma & daddy say someone is all right – you make them prove themselves to you.  You do like boys, though – even if you’re not warming up to them, you’ll watch them with your big eyed stare from across the room.  Uncle Austin, Grandpa, or the janitor at the library, it doesn’t matter –  you stare them down.

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SITTING.  That’s your newest trick.  You can’t get up by yourself, of course, but with someone propping you up, you quickly move away from leaning on them to hold yourself up for ten, fifteen minutes at a time.  It lets you play with your toys so much more easily, although sometimes chasing after your toys leads to you tipping over.  You hate being on your stomach, so my money is on Rosy crawling first though.  You cry and cry and act like you don’t know how to turn over, until you hear BonnieBear or Doc McStuffins on the TV.

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You love food, too, but you’re much more independent than your sister.  You prefer to take the bottle or spoon out of my hand, and feeding it to yourself – with a healthy dose of spoon chewing on the side.  You love feeding yourself, and seem so much happier when I let you be a part of the process.  Seeing your little smile around the spoon makes me so happy – I don’t even care how messy letting you feed yourself is, because you’re so happy.

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Mad-el-ine E-liz-a-beth Mo-ra-les!  The child who spent the last months of my pregnancy VISIBLY kicking out under my ribs, making her presence known.  I cannot wait to see who you grow to be – I can already see that you’re amazing, and I’m excited for you to prove me right.

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