For the first time ever, I'm missing my babies...

I've never been one to look back when it comes to parenting. I loved them when they were infants but it was a kind of "Holy Crap! Please Don't Die on Me!" kind of a way. They were fragile (well, alright, R was built like a tank from day 1 but in my postpartum fog, even he seemed terribly delicate), pink, damp, and almost constantly attached to my "foods" for sustenance. The fact is, I like each age and stage better than the last -- the emerging personalities, independence, and preferences. I loved it when they learned to smile, laugh, wave, blow raspberries. I think what I'm saying is... sometimes I miss the times when they had loads of personality and absolutely no ability to form sentences.

I could look at this face and assume all C was thinking was "I love my mommy, I love my mommy" even though her internal dialogue was probably something more along the lines of "If I smile, maybe she'll stop this incessant tickling. Camera-tickling-smile-annoying flash - tickling stops. Got it."

Or maybe it has nothing to do with their lack of verbal skills... maybe it's their round little faces, chubby, marshmallowy legs, awkward hand movements, and spontaneous smiles - and sometimes it wasn't even gas!

Then there's R... Forgetaboutit. That mug, that drool, those eyes! While I was taking this picture, he was madly scooching around on his blankie looking for rice krispies. He was a late crawler, early walker (the day after he learned to crawl), professional scoocher. He was a good-natured baby who was out of his crib at 5 months because he figured out how to shimmy up the crib rail and throw himself over. When he cried, his birthmark turned bright red - still does!

Fact is, he hasn't changed all that much. He's still the quietest of the bunch and will occupy himself happily for a couple of hours. It's quite a treat when we end up with an hour or two to ourselves and we have a chance to talk about "things" -- it's all his fault that I'm going to be the mother-in-law from hell. I pity the young lady who first breaks his heart.

Then there was this one. A started out life with a bang. She cried co loud and so often in the hospital that the nurses would come running to our room, thinking I'd dropped her on her head or something. No, I'd reply, it appears that's how she cries. They'd give me a look that said one part "poor you" and one part "hush her up, now".

She started waving an smiling and jibber-jabbering at an astoundingly early age and still goes to sleep talking and singing to herself. I don't remember too many details about her infancy but I do know she had to learn to be an "on-the-go" kid from the beginning. Now, not surprisingly, she's not one to hang out alone or to go without entertainment for long. She'll call me out if I'm answering email rather than generating some new and exciting ways for her to pass the time. Everyone needs somebody to call us on our shortcomings. If you lack that in your life, A is available on an hourly basis... free consultations!

When I started this post, I thought I was going in a different direction and, in the end, this is a trademark mommy blog opportunistic "share the baby pictures" post. I don't apologize. I'm not pregnant. I'm not having any more babies. I just love the ones I had, I guess, and although all of these pics were taken yesterday (I swear they were!), today I have zero babies. One is navigating the social pizzle (I meant to write puzzle but somehow pizzle feels like a better descriptor) that is middle school, one is trying to decide whether to be Indiana Jones or history professor while contemplating the relative merits of Sonic vs. Mario, and one is (and always has been) trying to squeeze as much out of this whole "childhood" enigma as possible before she exposes herself as what she is -- long lost sister to Stewie Griffin, diabolical baby genius. We appreciate her willingness to stick around but for pete's sake, A, could you use a little of that genius to work out why there's a power surge every time I use the new printer??

I'm not so bothered by getting old but I could do without the kids' aging process. I'd wipe a thousand more bottoms for the promise of just a handful more of those lazy Sunday mornings curled up under the covers together. Sigh...