We recently spent a long weekend at the beach in Michigan, sharing a rented house with three other couples and a total of 10 kids, of whom Owen, at age 5, was the oldest. The sheer number of small children lent the weekend sort of polygamist commune feel, absent the sex with multiple women part. Actually Owen was more of the polygamist hero, as at one point there were was a scrum of naked little girls duking it out on an air mattress for the right to marry him. On a polygamist commune, he could simply have married them all - problem solved.
Owen is growing up before our eyes. He lost his first tooth and started kindergarten this week. Judging by my perusal of other parenting blogs, I will give birth to an obligatory reflective post on this subject sooner or later, but at the moment, it still appears to be gestating.
The most exciting event has been the fact that the twins have gone from worrisomely nonvocal, like two miniature Silent Bobs, to constant chatter in the space of a month. They are counting, laying down sentences, and, charmingly, referring to themselves as Poopa (Cooper) and Yay-Yay (their variation on Hay-Hay, which is what we most commonly call Hayden), which remind me of the sort of fun names rappers used to give themselves back in the 80's . If we could lure Spinderella out of retirement to round out the group, we might have something going. Maybe record a number called Hip-Hop-Hooyay-yay (featuring DJ Fresh Poopa).
