A Moment Like This

Here's a scene that has played itself out in our living room the past three mornings, exactly the same way each time:

• With the babies' morning feed just finished, mommy and daddy sit Leah and Riley facing each other on the couch, within easy reach of each other.


• Leah starts to grab Riley's bib and pull it toward her mouth. Mommy pulls Leah's arm away so that she doesn't choke her sister to death. Riley looks amused.


• Leah and Riley stare at each other in wonderment for about 20 seconds, apparently fascinated by what they each must think is the most life-like and sophisticated toy ever.


• Leah starts trying to grab Riley's face and pull it toward her mouth. Mommy pulls Leah's arm away so that she doesn't take a bite out of her sister's face. Riley looks amused.


• Leah and Riley stare at each other in wonderment for another 20 seconds.


• Leah, with a big goofy smile on her face, stares right into Riley's eyes and makes this long birdcall-like noise, that sounds roughly like this: "aaheeeaaaaawwwweeeeeaaaaaah!" (Hope I got the spelling right there.)


• While Leah's making this noise, Riley smiles broadly and stares at her with rapt attention, as if she is telling the most fascinating story ever.


• Something in the air changes and the spell is abruptly broken. Leah puts her thumb in her mouth and looks away. Riley looks away and appears to be intensely bored all of sudden.

Maybe that description doesn't sound all that exciting, but it's actually something we've been looking forward to for like months: the moment where the twins actually interact with each other as sisters rather than just being that-thing-that-wakes-me-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-takes-away-my-toys. It is nirvana for us new twin parents. It is the new-twin-parent equivalent of heroin. As soon as the moment is over, dammit, you want to see it again. Now. Now-now-NOW.

Unfortunately, Leah and Riley have sensed their parents' desperation and have therefore decided that they will only do one performance a day. Other than that two-minute period each morning, you can put them right in front of each other face-to-face and they will avoid eye contact at all costs, suddenly looking up at ceiling, staring down at their feet like shy teenagers.

So now I sit here, at 8:30 pm at night, looking forward to my next fix tomorrow morning. Ten and half hours to go.

The girls have me right where they want me now. I'm a goner.