Whoa Mama

Saturday, May 21, 2005

You and you

I've always been a little concerned about Aidan and Noah developing their own identities. I have to make sure that I call them by name, avoid refering to them as "the twins" to often and really see them for their own individually emerging little selves.

Sam has always been outstanding at this, though not always correct. He almost always calls them by name, just not always the right one. He will ask, "is that Aidan or Noah?" or "what's his name?". Usually this is in the morning, and the answer is followed by a joyous, "Good morning, !!!" Sometimes he calls them "the babies", occassionally, "the brothers", when he's ticked off at one, it's "that baby" and when he's in a goofy mood, "bacanos". Don't ask. I don't know. He's into rhyming and silly words. I overheard him clearly singing "the eensy weensy spider" in the dark, in his bad, except he was making up his own words.

So it was the morning of their birthday and Sam was out of his skin waiting for his own birthday, which comes mercifully the next day. We had decorated their high chairs and opened presents, all before breakfast. We were in the middle of eating and Sam decided that we needed to sing "Happy Birthday". We got going in the classic format until the first "you", when I hear his little voice continue through the pause with, "and you". Forget the finer points of grammer that would allow us to sing one "you" for both babies. Sam wasn't interested. There are 2 babies, they each get called out. And that was how we finished the song.

A friend wrote in her blog about crying during childbirth. That profound and powerful experience is just blown out of the water, when I think about the wet, bloody, crying old man face developing into a sweet, funny, thoughtful, rambunctious little boy. Is that reason enough to admit that I welled up during "Happy Birthday"?


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