And Now, Back To The Babes

When I came home from the hospital on the 16th of this month, the saddest thing was Morgan's reaction to me. She didn't want to have anything to do with me. Liam greeted me with his usual big smile from ear to ear, and let me cuddle and squish him, but I think Morgan might have been scared of the fact that I was in bed, and appeared the way I did (really pale and weak-looking)...but, whatever the reason was, she wanted nothing to do with me, and she ran for her mother's arms crying, which was more than a little heartbreaking for me. I had only been gone from Tuesday to Saturday. Things are fine again now - probably because I'm a little more mobile, and getting stronger - but it was touch and go for the first few days back home. I had, of course, missed them both terribly, so not receiving the same enthusiastic response for seeing me again - as I had displayed for reuniting with her - was almost overwhelming in its hurt.

But here we are, back to what we call normal. This is Morgan doing - as Janne and I call it - her "Queen Of Sweden" thing. In both home and away colours, of course.
For peek-a-boo, for wearing as a cape...it's just so versatile.
A friend of mine from back home in Eastern Passage (Halifax, Nova Scotia, for those not familiar with the many microcosms surrounding it) had moved away for a couple of years to Australia. While there, they sent us these t-shirts for the twins.
It's a year later, and the babies have finally grown into them. (Although Liam looks like he's found an escape route, he's actually looking at his circus-mirror-like reflection in the doorknob.)

Speaking of Liam, here he is "re-arranging" the clothing, diapers, and assorted bibs, towels and facecloths from underneath the change table. Even though this is a regular occurence, we, like robot/zombie parents, continue to pick everything up and put it back neatly, thinking that a momentary detention in "The Pen" for the offending culprit(s) will discourage such re-arranging from happening again.Hasn't deterred anyone in the least to this point, however. Maybe one of the reasons is that, after a moment of resistance and whining, they realize that they quite like being in the pen, thank you very much, and obviously really like each other, too. They are the best of friends...although Liam looks like he's maybe had a few too many Jell-o shots in this one.
A while back, I posted a picture of Morgan and Liam standing in their red toy tub. I had 'posed' it by lowering them carefully into it to 'create the cuteness', but the red toy tub (never the blue one, however) has now become a regular thing with Morgan. It's like a Fortress of Solitude for her, and she'll play with a couple of blocks or read a book while in there.
They turn 19 months old on the 30th...and, through some of their actions recently, have begun to prepare us for what other parents call the "terrible two's"...but they're still a ton of fun, and very socially skilled - and talking more every day. More on some of the new words later.

Here they are, doing what they love best, just hangin' out and being the really cool babies that they are.