Wyatt’s my baby. My buddy, my beloved littlest one and the only one who looks like me. When I got to our sitter’s today I heard him sobbing through the window, and I rushed in–pausing to give Rory a hug on the way–calling what’s wrong, Wy?

He didn’t want to come home, that’s what’s wrong.

Now, I know Heather’s house is a haven of legos and turtles and popsicles (and it’s SUPPOSED to be, I love that they love it there)…but ouch.

So of course, i jumped to the adoption. He doesn’t want to come home because he doesn’t get any attention there anymore! Because he’s been displaced! Because I never do anything with him because anything I do with him Rory joins it on too and I’m not mentally strong enough to make Rice Krispie Treats with more than one child at a time, and he still begs me–can we make Rice Krispie Treats?

It’s one thing, I think, to have twins. I don’t know from twins. But these two–so close in age, so stuck together–need some more me. But not necessarily together. I’m going to have to come up with something–it will be hard at first, I think–that they don’t EXPECT to do together. If I cook with Wy, say, and just always say no to Rory–no, this is Wyatt’s thing–and then do something with her that’s her thing–honestly, there’s not much more I like doing with a three-year-old than cooking. I like puzzles, and I’ll read out loud but that’s a tough one to do with just one kid, and Rory’s not really into puzzles–too much sitting. Maybe we could draw pictures. Maybe she could learn to write letters–his hand coordination’s not up to that yet. That might be good.

Ok, so a little bit of solution. And really, I think it’s ok that I don’t play with them much, that they’re expected to entertain themselves and each other. But I would like to do a little more, and in particular, I don’t want to lose my bond with Wyatt. I do have this plan–once school’s started, I am going to take turns sneaking the two youngest out for breakfast–do two drop offs, once things are rolling smoothly and there’s no trouble at drop off.

Things with Rory are normalizing–for both of us. This weekend I was explaining a pot luck to her–all the friends will bring treats, and we will all share them–and she said “oh! well, that goin’ be fun!” and it was such an ordinary and cute thing to say, and something new for her. And she has this Maisy doll she’s adopted, kind of like a cloth paper doll with velcro clothes–and she’s started to move it around and talk to it, and make it talk, and this is play I can relate to. You know, we were pretending she was being normal–that all of those tantrums and craziness was just her, and I know she HAd tantrums–and does, and will–but there’s clearly some ordinary day-to-day Rory we haven’t seem yet, and of course, there’s the part where she changes. Oh, and the part where i change.

I had Sam out for a golf lesson today (Rob has Tiger Woods dreams) and a snack beforehand. He’s getting more and more privileges as the oldest that won’t happen for the others, who’ll get old enough to do everything in a pack–but then, he doesn’t get to be part of the pack exactly. Silver linings, advantages, disadvantages–I just chew on those all day.