A Tribute to My Angels

When she is not in her normal analytical mode, Maya's smile is infectious. She makes us laugh with the little things she says and the little things she does. We are currently trying to get her to pronounce words better so that sgetti sounds more like spaghetti and Wilms sounds more like Williams. Sometimes she gets frustrated and says "I can't say it!" but we all know that this is just her way of internalising the words because she starts using the proper words later on. She is an analytical soul with a strict schedule. As soon as she wakes up, she takes off her clothes, puts on her big girl underwear and sits to watch Maya's show. Any slight change in her schedule and she is a bundle of tears. She loves school - even though she is too young to go. To play along with her desire to be a school kid, we tell her that she is going to school when we go to church on Sundays and when I attend a M.O.P.S. meeting. This is our way of getting her excited about playing with the other kids. And sure enough, when I drop her off with the nursery teachers she is off like a flash - socializing with every kid in the room and making coffee in the play kitchen. That is our little social butterfly of independence.

And then there is Declan, the one in desperate need of a hair-cut these days. He is the copy-cat, the one who wants to do everything his sister does but is still a little timid. Declan is our cuddle monster. He can often be seen running towards us burying his head in our lap. He is affectionate and loves to kiss. Lately he has been wanting to read more books so I spend a lot of time with him on my lap explaining the different species of TRUCKS. He loves the "Wheels on the Bus" song and when we get to the part "The horn on the bus goes..." he clenches his fist and pounds his chest like Tarzan saying "beep beep beep!" He can say "Hi dad" pretty clearly and loves it when Nanny calls because he gets to talk to her on the phone. Now that his health is back to normal, it is fun to watch him dance, sing, and speak. He's not really our little baby anymore - he's our little running man.