|Here Zoe, have a drink!!|
I'm pretty sure they love each other.
Zoe grows about an inch every night. She is already wearing 6-month clothing! That is actually quite convenient. Ellie was born at the end of March, a three-month difference that technically puts them in different seasons; you wouldn't expect her clothes to work for Zoe. But because Zozo is so huge, she ends up fitting them after all.
(Less shopping for baby means more shopping for Mommy.)
Zoe has become much more demonstrative lately. Her smiles are enormous. If you work really hard you can even get her to laugh! Unfortunately, she has also begun teething, and that is very traumatic for everybody, with much crying and finger-gnawing. I don't think it is fair to make a mere three-month-old sprout teeth, but then, I didn't exactly get a say in the matter.
I am thankful that despite the impending teeth, she still sleeps well at night. The difference between Getting Up Thrice and Getting Up Once is staggering.
Back to the newly minted two-year-old: she is giving my patience a run for its money, with her irrational whining jags and ceaseless chatter. And yet she is so much fun at the same time. She frequently asks to "pray Jesus?", snuggles on my lap to read book after book, and adores all of our relatives-- she hopefully suggests "grandma's house?" even when we have no plans to go anywhere. She has a strong personality and decided opinions. I love seeing her determination every day. She likes to figure things out, and likes to help us with our work: she has learned to work the salad spinner, enthusiastically imitates Jared's running stretches, and hands me clothespins when I do laundry. She knows all her colors and is learning to count (not always accurately: "one two fee, five nine ten!")
The Long Winter is finally over, and we can enjoy the outdoors as a family, whether on walks around the city, trips to the park, or fiddling around in our garden. (The lettuce is up and I have tomato seedlings ready to transplant soon.) Oorah. Jared and I also got to go out for dinner without the girls last week, and it felt like a turning point. I love tiny babies but it's awfully nice when they are old enough to leave for a couple hours; I am feeling more like myself, and less like a groggy, bed-headed milk machine.
So that's good.