Chiffonade

Steve's birth father arrives tomorrow for a weekend visit. I have mixed feelings about this: on the one hand I am catatonic with social anxiety; on the other I am desperately worried about potential awkwardness. Hmmm. Not so much mixed feelings, I guess, as blended feelings. Well blended into a potent cocktail of stress.

Not only have we never met the man (or his wife, obviously) we (and by "we" I mean Steve) have never even spoken with him. The sum total of our interaction has been a handful of emails. And yet, golly, a weekend visit. Friday, meet Sunday. Oh my. So I am doing what I always do and I am making enough food to stuff a legion. When in doubt, feed people. I think, by the way, I need to put up some new recipes. We have been hosting various and sundry people quite a bit since the babies have been born and I have some thoughts on good, make-ahead stuff for lunch and dinner that you can concoct practically with one hand. But I digress. Birth father. Never met. Arriving tomorrow. I told my friend Noelle that if they don't drink I am packing up the babies and coming to her house. Ha ha ha ha ha. I'm kidding, naturally. Of course I would never hope to defuse a situation rife with meaning and angst and whatnot by offering everyone a Sidecar. Wine, maybe.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Caroline started rolling from her back to her stomach a day after her four month appointment and now it is all she wants to do. Back-stomach-back-stomach-back... flip flip flip. Today she went from her back to her stomach to her back again, but this time it was a 360. She rolled and wound up under the couch and then snorted in amusement. Very ladylike. She also studies her hands like a stoner every chance she gets. Edward likes to be on his side and he likes to suck his fingers (or the socks that cover his fingers; he's not finicky) and he likes to screech. He can see faces and I think he can see expressions but I am not entirely sure that he can see details in things. I do know that every time I walk into a room his entire body tenses and then quivers with excitement and pleasure and I don't think I will ever get tired of that.

I wrote a post a REDBOOK on Monday about how Patrick keeps telling me how he likes Steve better. Today he flung his arms around me and said, "I love you. You are just so... lovable!" Then he suggested that we go inside (we were digging for worms at the time) and write poems about how much we love each other. I just cannot shake the impression that Patrick toys with me for his own amusement.

Finally, I call this One Hat, Two Interpretations: