We got the babies tunnels for their birthday. They are really starting to enjoy them.
Eating out
We don't eat out often anymore. So a couple of Saturdays ago we all four went out for Mexican food. The babies loved the whole experience. They took in all the people and bright colors, and delicious food, of course :).
Tubes
Asa had surgery to put ear tubes in yesterday. It is a day surgery, a goes very quickly. He was a total rock star and is doing great. Alden stayed home to boss Austin around :).
Swinging
There is a place nearby that sells playground equipment, and the let you play in their indoor showroom. Asa and Alden had fun swinging for the first time. Sorry these are blurry, the iPhone is not great with movement.
Year stats
Alden:
Weight 20lbs 15oz - 60%
Height 2ft 4.75in - 40%
Head 18.25in - 85%
Asa
Weight 27lbs - 95%
Height 2ft 7.25in - 98%
Head 18.25in - 65%
Weight 20lbs 15oz - 60%
Height 2ft 4.75in - 40%
Head 18.25in - 85%
Asa
Weight 27lbs - 95%
Height 2ft 7.25in - 98%
Head 18.25in - 65%
Aquarium
Austin and I took the babies to the aquarium Saturday. They loved it, Asa loved looking at the fish, and Alden loved looking at people (and fish too). Fun was had by all!
Cupcakes
Asa and Alden had a sweet, cupcake, for the first time at their birthday party saturday. I didn't get any pictures of the cupcakes before they were eaten. I made Alden a chocolate cupcake with cherry cream cheese frosting and Asa a white cupcake with blueberry cream cheese frosting. (I also didn't get any pictures of the party-fail).
Dada's office
Alden, Asa, and I went to visit Austin at work last Friday to attend a baby shower. The ride up to the 32nd floor was fast and a little unsettling for our one year olds. But they loved the view from his office. The shower was during afternoon nap time, that combined with the elevator ride, and gagging on a graham cracker was too much for Asa and the contents of his stomach. We had changes of clothes for Austin and Asa, and had fun anyway.
Open Birthday Letter
To Alden and Asa:
Today (March 7) marks your one-year birthday. The first anniversary of the day you gasped your first breath of air. And you received your first kisses on your cheeks. And slept with the stars in view.
You, at the cellular level.
Fission and DNA instructions. Blastocysts. I read all of the literature I could
understand about this process because it was the only thing I could know about
you at the time. And I wanted to know everything about you. Each day, there was another fact to learn about
you and, in the midst of all of these amazing biological processes, another
fruit or vegetable to compare your size to.
Before we even saw your faces, your existence was at once scientifically
explainable and a complete enigma.
I was quite unaccustomed to this posture, and lactic acid started to build up in my arms. While my limbs
tired and my mind concentrated on holding you as securely and comfortably as I
could, I convinced myself that I would not admit any weakness to the hospital
staff . . . no matter how long we had to sit there.
In short, I did not want to set you down. There was no time to waste. Now that your birthday had arrived, there
were so many more things to know about you.
Today (March 7) marks your one-year birthday. The first anniversary of the day you gasped your first breath of air. And you received your first kisses on your cheeks. And slept with the stars in view.
But your time in this world started long before this day
last year. The earliest picture we have
of you is from July 17, 2012—not long after you were just two zygotes.
Then, about eight months later, we found ourselves in a
hospital operating room. I kept watching
this clock on the wall as its second hand smoothly glided through each minute.
Then, at 4:31 and then 4:32, I saw you. First, Alden.
Then, Asa.
All of the nurses were excited by your red hair as the
doctor delivering you expressed disbelief: “The nurses always want to see red
hair.” You were brought into the world by a skeptic.
We sat in that room by your mother's head for a while, and I held you.
Over the past year, I expect that the clock that marked the
time of your birth has continued to glide round and round, with other masked men watching
it as intently as I did. During that time, the best things about you could not
be learned from books or websites. Without
a doubt, you have progressed much like studies would suggest that you would,
but there is sheer magic in watching you grow and explore
the world. Others have told me that it
only becomes more and more fun as time passes.
Another paradox. I can
and cannot wait to watch you grow up. I am excited to celebrate the passing of your
first year of life and to see who you will become in the next year—but,
admittedly, I also mourn the possibility that I did not catch
everything over the past year.
That time is gone. The clock in the operating room continues to make its trips from twelve
to twelve. Try as we might, your mother
and I cannot stop that whirring motor to take a free minute; all of this must take place in
real time. Others (the same "others" who say that each day is more fun than the last) warned us that this
would happen, and it will happen to you. But it seems so much more dire when
you realize that an entire year has passed and you hoped you could account for much more of it.
So, we will resolve to enjoy and savor this next year even
more than we did the previous year—if that is even possible. Your being here is nothing short of amazing, and I hope we are
able to teach you as many important things as we can. But I also hope that this note is preserved
and that, one day, when you can appreciate it, you will think about all of the
silly things that your father and mother have done to play with you and watch
you laugh and smile and that you will realize those hours were some of the best-spent and most precious that we
have ever known.
Happy birthday, twins.
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