Four months ago, taking care of both girls at the same time nearly brought me to tears - manly weepage composed of 2% tears and 98% testosterone, but tears nonetheless. Tonight, I didn't even really notice when I was simultaneously putting a post-bath diaper on Julia while also putting pajamas on Genevieve as she squalled with hunger and tiredness. After Shannon took Gigi for nursing and nighttime, I went to read bedtime stories to Julia.
After we read her two books, it took me about ten seconds to reshelve the books and turn down her covers. In that time, she staggered, in the way she does when she's all but asleep on her feet, across the room and fell headfirst into a basket of stuffed animals. When I went over to help her back to her feet, she looked up at me and said, apropos of nothing, "Daddy wearing his gasses! I yike Daddy's gasses more than Mama's gasses." "Why, honey?" "Because Daddy reads my bedtime stories with his gasses." As I laughed at this charming non sequitur, her consciousness kept streaming: "When I am getting ready for bed, Mama puts on her glasses in the meantime." I could only shake my head - how many 30-month old kids know how to use "meantime" properly? I only know the one, but she's a good one, just like her sister.