1/19/09

fourth file, third picture

Aimee phototagged me -- the rules were to open your fourth file and post the fourth picture. All I have to say is that whoever invented this game must be way more organized than me about files and such. Also, I'm on my work computer and so my actual fourth file is not something I'd want to post. So, to make a long story short, I'm just going to post this:



We spent the (bitterly cold) weekend watching home movies. Mallory in particular is fascinated by looking at herself and Phoebe as babies, and although I could do without her incessant questions (Why was I crying? Was that my favorite shirt? Who bought me that rattle? What was I eating? Did I like to eat that? What was that noise, on the video? Was it me crying or Phoebe? How old was I right then? So how old was Phoebe? Where were the dogs? Why were they barking? And so on.) -- well, I think I'm past the point where I can coherently finish the sentence I originally started here. The point -- it's fun to watch. So many things I've already forgotten about my babies -- all those funny noises, the screeches and the coos. The way they pinwheeled their arms and legs when they were excited. Their chubby, chubby thighs. It's funny that Baby Mallory is instantly recognizable as Mallory, but Baby Phoebe doesn't much resemble the Phoebe of today. I was reminded that four to nine months is the prime age of babyhood, the apex of cuteness. I was amazed at how babyish Mallory still was at three and half, when Phoebe was born -- her little voice! Her lisp! Her mispronunciations -- "nunch" for lunch, "pile" for smile, "yittle" for little, "geen" for green. I was similarly amazed at how well Phoebe spoke when she was just turned two. I teared up when we saw Mallory holding newborn Phoebe after we brought her home; my mother-in-law said, "What do you think she's thinking about?" and Mallory said, instantly, "Her's finkin' about me!" We laughed, all of us, at a scene when four-year-old Mallory burst into tears because Chris called her bossy. "Why are you crying?" he asked, and Mallory said, "Because I thought I was the boss of you!" As for me, I had particularly lustrous hair when I was postpartum; otherwise, I'd prefer not to watch myself on film. However, I did manage to solve a mystery -- there was a particular tape that hadn't been labeled, and I couldn't tell by the context when it had been filmed -- it was just shots of the kids running around being goofy. Then I noticed myself, in the background, reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince -- so obviously, this tape was from July 2007, when I was re-reading the series before HP7 was released. My voracious reading serves a purpose at last!

These scenes of youth could not quite distract me, however, from the fact that I'm getting old. Today I'm 37, which just sounds so much older than 36. Ah well, it beats the alternative, as they say. And Aimee adopted a penguin for me, which is very cool, and which serves to remind me that I am certainly better off than penguins, who in spite of their comical appearance have very difficult lives. So, that's good, then. Happy birthday to me.

3 comments:

aimee said...

Great picture. I am so impressed that you all have snippets of your daily lives videotaped. We tried that for about 2 months and our video camera sits and sits in a cabinet probably with a tape that has Rhett taking his baby steps. Oh well.

And, you don't look a day over 30.

love you!

Anonymous said...

Hope you have a great day. That is a great picture, and, no, baby Phoebe really doesn't look very much like 3 year old Phoebe.

Mom

superior said...

mash1788
live487
pone3548
reck6874
shoe547