We are sitting on the couch after reading a book before bedtime. Swee’Pea has successfully pointed out the banana on each and every page of the book. As Swee’Pea sits on Mommy’s lap she notices Mommy’s freshly washed, slightly damp hair and reaches out to touch it.

“Hair” says Swee’Pea.

“Yes, Swee’Pea. It’s Mommy’s clean hair.” Says Mommy, speaking in the mandatory third-person.

Knowing how Swee’Pea hates to have her hair washed, she continued, “Your hair gets long when you wash it, Swee’pea.”

As if on cue, Swee’pea reaches out to touch my hair as I am seated next to her with Monk on my lap. “Yeah, Daddy must not ever wash his hair, huh?” I laugh.

Swee’Pea continues to look for hair and she grabs my shirt to expose the hair on my chest. Then, she does the same for Mommy.

“No,” Mommy says, “Mommy doesn’t have hair there!”

And we’re both happy about that.

This morning as Swee’Pea and TheMonk ate their pancakes that their Daddy so lovingly prepared, Daddy produced a slight emission that was gastrointestinally related and was very audible to a certain toddler eating her pancakes.

“UH-OH! TOOTED! DADDY!”

Why do I get the impression that, once again, my life has changed and will never be the same?

UPDATE: Swee’Pea and TheMonk may be working in concert. Case in point: I was holding TheMonk tonight as we were getting ready for bed. Mommy was holding Swee’Pea. All of a sudden, TheMonk let a loud one rip (I’m so proud).

Swee’Pea immediately retorted, “Mommy… Tooted.”

Swee’Pea woke up yesterday with the biggest pimple known to mankind on her cheek. And when I say big, I mean hugantic. Ginormous. Big.

It was so big it had it’s own moons orbiting around it. It was so big that on two separate occasions I mistook it for Ruben Studdard. It was so big that the paparazzi showed up thinking it was Paris Hilton’s ego.

Now if this is a sneak peek into poor little Swee’Pea’s dermatological future, we’d better start stocking up on benzoyl peroxide.

On a positive note, she woke up this morning and it has gotten quite a bit smaller. In fact, I received a notice from the International Astronomical Union saying they were downgrading her pimple and it would no longer be recognized as a planet. Well, that’s a relief.

Dear Son,

I feel like an explanation is in order. You see, having two of you that are the same age sometimes makes it hard on a guy like me. Now I know you are a boy and your sister is a girl and there are obvious differences between the two of you but sometimes I get you two confused.

For example, when you and your sister were about a month or two old, I awoke in the middle of the night to crying. I stumbled over to the bassinet you two shared and found a wet diaper and a wet onesie. I changed the diaper and onesie and stumbled back to bed. The next morning I found you in a pink onesie. I thought I was changing your sister the night before and it had been you all along. Sorry about that.

Another example of the confusion that exists when there are two of you is that I never seem to get your name right. You have been called Swee’Pea many times. You have also been called Nutmeg (the cat) so it’s more me than you. It’s also hereditary. Ask your Grandmother.

But tonight, my dear son, is the reason I am writing you. I owe you a big apology. You see, tonight in the bath you and your sister were there in front of me. Bubbles were all over the place obscuring my vision beneath the water. It is this reason that I mistook you for your sister. I was washing body parts and I got confused and scrubbed your private parts a little harder than any male would like to be scrubbed.

My bad.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t do any permanent damage, though. The fact that your eyes bulged out of your head for a short second suggests that it was uncomfortable but you didn’t cry so I’m assuming I didn’t inflict too much damage.

I’ll try not to make this mistake again. I do want grandchildren someday after all.

It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to write about you, my little Swee’Pea. And I apologize for that, little one. But you have been changing so fast that I can hardly keep up. I try to tell you slow down – that you’re growing up way too fast – but you keep learning and growing and changing right before my eyes. I blame your mother.

By now, your personality has taken hold. You, my sweet, sweet girl are NOT a morning person. You hate changing from your pajamas into your clothes and throw a fit just about every morning as I wrestle you into a clean shirt and pants. After you have had meltdown #1, we go downstairs where I put you into your high chair and give you some juice. I then give you your favorite food in the world – banana. After I carry your brother down, it’s just about time for…

Meltdown #2. Usually because you’re not getting the right food at the right time. You’re really gonna have to work on that Swee’Pea.

A recent development that has limited your meltdowns is that you can now speak in sentences. Your ability to communicate with words just exploded this past week and it is amazing to listen to you tell me what you want or tell me about your brother. You still love your sign language videos and you still use some signs but it’s happening less and less. I will miss you signing your words to me but your spoken words are musical as they roll off your lips in your little girl voice.

Oh, and all the things you know! I cannot begin to tell you how amazed I am every time you show me something that I didn’t know you knew. Just the other day we were picking out what socks for you to wear and you pointed to a pink pair and said, “Piiiiiink.” Not sure I just heard you point out a color, I asked you to hand me the pink socks. You picked them out and handed them to me. Of course, you were wearing a purple outfit so I let you choose between the purple socks I had picked out and the pink ones you picked out. Because you are such a fashionable young girl, you chose the purple ones. But, for the record, I would have dressed you in the pink ones if you had wanted them.

Wow, there is a lot to tell you, isn’t there? Well, I might have to save the rest for another post. But let me just end by telling you how very much I love being your Daddy. You are challenging at times but full of love and passion always. You make my world a better place and I am so grateful that I have you to hold and cherish every day of my life.

Love,
Daddy.

For most of their lives, TheMonk has been the strong, silent type while Swee’Pea has been the assertive, outgoing one (except when we encounter new people, but that’s a different post). Lately, Swee’Pea has taken her role as leader and taken it one step further – protector.

Recently, Swee’Pea has done an excellent job sharing. She does not like to see TheMonk unhappy and has willingly given up toys she is playing with in order to make her brother happy. She has also taken an interest in giving him kisses and hugs. TheMonk tolerates this – and even participates in the kisses if the mood strikes – and is taking his sister’s love in stride.

This weekend she took this concern for her brother even further. She has recently begun to use his name whenever she is talking about TheMonk. (For those of you who have read this blog in the past, you know his name is three syllables long, and it’s cute as hell to hear Swee’Pea call out his name.) Now, every morning TheMonk finishes his juice about half-way through breakfast. Swee’Pea, on the other hand, always takes her time to savor the juciness in her cup. Today, she wanted the same thing for TheMonk. After he announced he was “ALL DONE!” with his juice, and dutifully handed me his cup, Swee’Pea became concerned that TheMonk didn’t have any juice.

“More juice?” she asked me.

“You already have juice, Swee’Pea.” I responded.

“More juice, Monk?” she asked, with concern dripping from her voice.

“Okay.” I say. “Monk can have some more juice.”

TheMonk, pleasantly surprised by this new arrangement gladly accepted his very watered down second helping of juice.

After lunch, Swee’Pea, TheMonk and I all went shopping. We left the house with their new favorite toy – Mardi Gras beads. Purple for Swee’Pea and green for TheMonk. Throughout the day, Swee’Pea was always checking to make sure TheMonk had his “neckwace” or “gween bees.”

As it turned out, we did end up losing those green beads somewhere at our last stop. Most likely when we ran through the water fountain. As I put both Swee’Pea and TheMonk in their car seats for the drive home, Swee’Pea was quick to notice the beads we’re missing. “Monk’s bea’s? Monk’s neckwace? Oh, Nooooooo.” she said, with a sad tone to her voice.

“It’s okay, Swee’Pea. Monk doesn’t miss ‘em.” I said. “But we have his car.” I tell her as I hand TheMonk his favorite car. This satisfies Swee’Pea and we drive off with everything okay.

Swee’Pea made sure of that.

In my mind, on the list of what Daddy’s are supposed to do, right up there with horsey rides and threatening boyfriends, is make pancakes. And since Christmas, when Mommy bought me a Griddler, I have dutifully made pancakes every weekend.

Needless to say, pancakes are a hit.

In fact, now that Swee’Pea’s vocabulary has grown to the point where she is making demands requests, she pretty much wants pancakes every morning. Unfortunately for her, pancakes are not an option during the week so for the past week she has been pissed off disappointed when finding that oatmeal was on the breakfast menu instead of pancakes.

So today being Saturday, I was excited to finally tell my sweet little girl that she was getting pancakes for breakfast. I woke up early and prepared beautiful golden brown pancakes with a little dab of low fat butter substitute (mmmmmm…) and a drop of syrup on each pancake for a little touch of sweetness – just how she likes ‘em. I chopped ‘em up into little bite size pieces and presented them to m’lady for her approval.

She took a bite and smiled. I smiled back, happy to give my little girl what she had been craving the entire week. Pancakes for my little girl. I was satisfied.

Then, my sweet little girl looked up into my eyes, put her hands out to the side with her palms facing up and asked…

“Ba-na-nas?”

*Sigh*

Yes, Swee’Pea, you’re driving your father bananas.

Hey, we’ve introduced some new Family members over at The Blogfathers.

Go check ‘em out.

When we went to get Swee’Pea and TheMonk’s first haircut, the hairdresser put Swee’Pea’s hair in a tiny pony tail on the top of her head. It looked so cute. It looked so easy.

So how come whenever I do it, she looks more like a sumo wrestler than a sweet little girl?

I’m a gamer though. I’m going to get it. I’m even toying with the idea of doing TWO ponytails on her cute little head. Only, I just know she’s gonna look like Satan’s love child.

I’m gonna get it though. Really. I am.

Really.

We don’t get much one-on-one time. But today you have awakened from your nap earlier than your sister and your mother takes you to me. It’s time for snack so I fill you a sippy cup of juice and pour a little bowl of Cheerios. I then take you to the couch and sit you on my lap as we watch television.

But it is not the television that is worth watching. While you watch the safari animals on Animal Planet, I watch you.

You are getting to be such a big boy now. Your beautiful little face is thinning out and I am entranced by the calmness your face portrays. As you snack on your Cheerios and drink your juice you glance at me from time to time while watching the rhinos and hippos on TV. Whenever you glance at me, you smile your beautiful smile and we share a private moment that doesn’t come often when you’re a twin. As you look into my eyes, I take in your entire face as I haven’t done in quite a while. I notice a little freckle that has appeared on your forehead. I reach down and kiss it and we snuggle a little closer.

You go back to watching your program but you rest your head against my chest and I kiss the top of your head. Suddenly, you look up at me and arch your back to get your face closer to mine. I realize, as you open your mouth, that you want to give me a kiss. I lean my face closer to yours and you give me a special Monk kiss. You smile even more as we look at each other again. Satisfied with the kiss, you once again rest your head on my chest and watch your program.

I kiss the top of your head, squeeze your little body a little tighter to me and close my eyes. Feeling the warmth and closeness between us makes me so glad to be your Daddy. You are my son and it’s moments like this that make being a father feel like the greatest thing in the world.