I was talking with Jessica yesterday how it feels like we have two babies in our house. Not daughters, not really even Bailey or Netta. They’re just babies and we take care of them (and yes, love them). At night in the dark we rarely call them by their name. Rather, I got a baby, you got a baby, I’m going to change this baby, I think that’s your baby crying, my baby is nice and quiet, I think your baby made a poop, no, that was my baby, or was is just a fart? etc, etc.

I feel sorta bad for folks all excited about having a baby and then when it’s in the world it just cries and poos and keeps you up at night. In my view (and I’m enjoying letting myself be entirely cynical right now) babies aren’t all that fun. In fact, they’re often a pain in the ass. And doubly so for us.

But that’s OK, I can take the long view. I know how much fun they’ll be when they can smile, react, laugh, talk, walk, be girls. I’m really excited about the latter. How are girls different than boys? (don’t answer that). Right now there’s absolutely no difference other than having to wipe their TWO butts front to back. And that’s not enough for me to feel like a father of girls, you know?

There’s no hurry, though. I’m sure we (rather, Jessica) will miss this stage of their lives. Small, genderless, poopy, loud, expressionless, inconsolable, screechy, snorty, snotty, wet, snugly, warm, beautiful, palmable… Of course the real truth is I actually don’t care or mind about any of that stuff. Taking care of the babies is just our job right now and nothing would ever get in the way of doing it. And, in total seriousness, I’m so grateful and honored to be Bailey and Netta’s papa!