This morning I was sitting on the living room floor surrounded by sunlight and baby toys and, well, babies.
Two babies. Crawling over me and laughing and giggling. Twins. Who recently turned one.
After a year, I still can’t believe it. We have twins.
Often I shake my head, as I did this morning, and think: “Twins, man, twins!”
(And I don’t often use exclamation points.)
Most of the parent stuff I write about on this blog has to do with my older son, Ethan, who’ll be turning four in a few weeks. (This fact also blows my already blown mind.)
But Henry and Celia… they are amazing. They remind me of joy and discovery and simplicity and beauty.
When they smile and laugh, I think we’ll survive the craziness. That one day we’ll sleep. That one day I can do something crazy like sit down and eat an entire meal at once or (dreaming big now) watch an entire movie or basketball game.
Twins, man…
Mr. Henry:
Ms. Celia:
Oh my. They are lovely, Andy.