One night a while ago I asked the twins what we should name the new baby. They were thoughtful for a minute. Jo said: "Hobbit." Amelia, she thought for longer. "I know a really good name mom. Scoundrel." And it has stuck. I don't even know where she heard that word, but it may have possibly been in regards to Han Solo. They have Daddy-Daughter Dates when (only the originals!) Star Wars figures prominently. She says good night to Baby Scoundrel, and Jo and Hazel refer to her the same way. Lets hope its not prophesying :)! When I told them yesterday we finally know its a baby girl and not a boy, Millie was downcast. "Can I still call it Scoundrel?" Yes, of course honey. She'll come to earth with an unlikely nick-name.
I've had two bright ideas lately. Bright idea #1:
The other day I heard Millie and Jo 'pretending' to be me. I listened in closer, and stole a glance. Jo was sitting, pretending to sew, singing a lofty high-pitch song. Millie pretended to get hurt, and came to "mama" to make it better. Jo comforted: "Oh, my dear. Here's a hanky."
At first I was worried they would mimic me by shouting things like "Get in the CAR." or "If you don't come here in 10 seconds, you are in time-out!" or "Its dinner. I don't care if you eat it or not, I'm not making anything else." Or any number of unpleasant, mom-ish things I say every day to them. But no, Jo sat, sewed and sang. Which I also didn't think a very near representation.
Until yesterday, when I was sitting outside, needle and thread in hand, and singing this song. And yes, I had a hanky on hand for tears. It struck me that maybe it will be my unconscious actions that they might remember, not my conscious disciplinary or impatient moments....at least I hope so.