About Dash

I am having a battle of ideals.

Firstly, I try very hard to refrain from comparing Liam and Dash. Correction, I try to refrain from inappropriate comparison. In my frame of mind, there's good and there's bad comparisons, staying on one side of the line is the trick.

Really, we go through our whole lives making choices, thereby comparing option A to option B. Good comparisons, things that guide us and help us learn. An example of good comparisons with my children: this child gets upset much more quickly when waiting on food than his brother, so I'll set him up with lunch first.

Then there's the realm of inappropriate comparisons that arise through several avenues, including overgeneralized statements or comparisons that, by nature, belittle. I can't tell you how many people with twin experience warned against giving twins labels- The Smart One, The Handsome One, The Creative One, The Sporty One. Doing that just boxes one kid in and one kid out of a whole realm of experience.

All this to explain why I don't often talk about individual traits of the boys, for fear that I'm meandering into Inappropriate Comparison territory- after all, most of their characteristics I discover by comparison to their similarly visaged counterpart. But that's not fair of me either. They do have different traits that should be celebrated!

So celebrate I will. Let's start with...

Dash

Dash's signature look, what I picture when I close my eyes, is of him tight-lipped, perky-cheeked, bright-eyed, with index finger pointed and throat "mmm"ing to direct my attention.

He likes to climb onto the side table, turn around and dive head first into the couch cushions. I didnt' expect him to be so thrill-seeking. You better believe I plant myself at the edge of the couch to catch him when he inevitable ricochets off the the front edge toward the floor.

The two instances at which I become frustrated with his actions: when he gags himself and when he dribbles his milk out his mouth. Gagging- why is it so entertaining to shove his hand to his uvula? Shove, gag, giggle, shove, gag, giggle, shove, gag, regurgitate, giggle. Then Liam sees and copies. Milk dribbling- he gulps gulps gulps his milk until that last mouthful. He puts on a sly smile and out it spills. Then Liam sees and copies.

He's almost always the first to fall asleep.

As I search for a good descriptive word for Dash, the best I come up with is... somewhat aloof. This one's hard for me to describe. He can be very calm sometimes, even sitting still for minutes at a time. He doesn't covet his brothers toys too much, usually content with his own lot. He doesn't mind when my focus is on his brother. But he doesn't seek physical affection much either. Well, okay, it's just less than his brother. Less cuddles, more wiggling to get out of my arms, things like that. However, especially in the last few weeks, he likes to hustle over to me with a book (or sometimes without, he just wants to be with me!) and plants himself on my lap (boy, do I relish it).

He retaliates. With his teeth. Poor (somewhat deserving) Liam starts yanking Dash's toys away and Dash set's him straight with a few teeth marks to show for it. We're constantly trying to change this behavior (with the both of them). He is starting to share, though, (like, for real sharing) and we'll talk about that in another post.

Dash is a great giggler. He laughs at the things I do, he laughs at the animals he sees, he laughs at the books he reads, and he's wonderfully ticklish.

He gives marvelous (wide-mouthed) kisses. When he feels like it.

He sure loves his cuddle cow (or snug giraffe or whatever kind of animal it is). Every time I lift him out of his crib, he points back to his mattress urging me to retrieve his beloved (if he hadn't clung to it from the get-go). Sometimes, before he falls asleep, he inexplicably throws the cuddle cow over the crib wall, becomes despondent, and screams until I come return it to his arms.

Dash doesn't cry or whine a ton. Only when he's actually hurt himself or is particularly frustrated. BUT, when he's real upset, he's dangerous. To himself. Most of his biggest injuries have happened when he flung himself around while crying. When he's in this state and I want to pick him up, I have to move swiftly or else (just to show me how mad he is and doesn't want to be consoled) he fling himself backwards out of my arms reach and smack his head. Ouch.

He wants to know what's cooking. If I'm doing something on the stove or counter, he wants to be up at my vantage point, looking down on the bounty. Then Liam wants to join the party and we have a problem (another time when a third arm would be nice- two for babies, one for a spatula).

Sometimes we just stare at each other, expressionless. Usually I'll be stroking his legs or his tummy and he just studies my eyes, my face, my hair. He understands so much, that kid.

Liam's coming up tomorrow!