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A portrait of my babes once a week in 2014 (41 weeks)

Light floods into our apartment in the mornings, making us feel deceptively warmer than the crispy morning winter air outside. Yes, I think we can say winter has arrived, despite the fact that your bare bodies were basking in the sun just a week ago and a few of our afternoon walks have required no jerseys at all.  But in the last few days we've brought out the beanies and booties and cardigans. It's not just your wardrobe that's changing as I've noticed subtle differences in both of you this passed week. A little more knowing. A little more deliberate. A delight in cause and effect as you expect the same reaction of fright to funny noises you make. You giggle in glee as I chase after you, threatening to gobble you up. Anna, tooth number five has appeared next to your bottom right tooth. Florence, you are determined to stand by yourself, practicing your balance as you push against objects to get up. You both learned to suck through a straw (I think the freshly squeezed carrot juice on the other end was an enticing incentive). Florence, you have the cutest little extra crinkle in your nose when you smile back at me, and Anna, you have an expression of co-conspirator as if you're laughing at an inside joke. This week you tasted naartjies for the first time. We bathed you in the kitchen sinks to wash off little bodies smothered in squished strawberries; we voted in your first national elections and went on a long neighborhood walk with you sleeping against our chests; we sang faux Italian songs at dinner and slept in late in the mornings, usually snug in our bed. I love this age you're at, the season you're in - forty one weeks in the middle of May my delicious little beings.