A Longitudinal Look

Sarah and Juan are now three months old. This morning, Juanito woke up looking older than when he went to sleep last night. Sometimes we can almost see them growing before our very eyes. But for the most part, the changes are subtle and noticeable only through a longitudinal gaze, as shown here. (Click on each photo strip to see a bigger version if you wish.)



The twins' most recent development is that they now really engage with us, with friends, and, increasingly, with each other. Tonight they exchanged gazes and cooed at each other while holding hands. We parents played key roles of course, holding them up next to each other, but we still feel lucky just to have been there.

Chef Juan

Move to a new country, get married, and have twins, and you just might discover the urge to bake.

After almost one year of life in el norte, Juan really misses the food of his homeland. It started with a simple yearning one morning: "I want real meringues", he said. "Meringue meringues." Apparently, we have no decent meringues here in the US, a logical conclusion if all you've found are those crunchy bite-sized meringues at Whole Foods that cost an arm and a leg.

You see, real meringues, which here means Yucatecan meringues, are delicately crispy on the outside and perfectly gooey on the inside. They neither cloy the palate nor stick to your teeth. Juan had hoped to find something like this here in the Latino wonderland of Langley Park, but alas: apparently, meringues are not that popular in El Salvador. And so it is that Juan's quest yielded a meringue-spackled kitchen, a pan of freshly baked meringues and, why of course!: a huge tres leches cake.

Appreciating how the simple inspiration to bake meringues prompted the large-scale production of baking a cake is something like understanding how hanging a picture on the wall in the living room inspires the addition of a new wing to the house. There's a connection, yes, but it involves a leap of some proportion.

Tres leches is well worth the leap. True to its name, it consists of three milk-based components: a custard-like filling, a sweet milky sauce in which the cake is soaked, and... well, I'll have to get back to you on the third "milk," but suffice it to say that this cake is not for the lactose intolerant among us.* Made Juan's way, the cake is ultimately frosted with meringue. Make more than enough meringue for the cake, and you've got yourself the makings for meringue meringues.

Put like that, Juan's tres leches journey is more akin to adding a new wing to the house as a means of finding a nail with which to hang that picture in the living room-- make tres leches, and you'll have left over meringue. No matter, all three iterations of the meringues and the cake have been deemed delicious by his focus group, which mainly consists of... me. Sigh. I of all people so don't need to have baked goods sitting around the house in need of a tester.

But now very much on a roll, Juan recently decided that a good cake deserved some equally good pork. (Naturally.) Another call home later, and he knew how to go about preparing what is traditionally a Monday dish in Yucatan, frijol con puerco. No stranger to frijol con puerco myself (see my earlier blog entries about this here and here), I'm thrilled that Juan's passion has taken a more substantial turn, something to balance the sugar rush of the meringues.

All of this makes for the good life that we have: two beautiful babies and a husband that keeps me fed, all with inspiration to spare.

*I've since learned that the three 'milks' are sweetened condensed milk, evaporated milk and plain old milk. These are included in both the custard type filling and the sweet milky syrup in which the cake is soaked. There's also an obscene number of eggs in a tres leches cake, but I imagine calling it a ocho huevos cake wouldn't go over as well as tres leches.)

10.5 weeks old and cooing

Both kids are now making the miraculous little sounds that endear them to our hearts and reward us for enduring the occasional crying and, yes, screaming that come with being alive.

It's time for a Developmental Update, since this blog may be the closest thing these kids will be getting to the satin beribboned how-much-she-weighed-and-when baby book cultivated by so many good mothers.

Sarah: Overall, she's a quiet, happy kid. Nothing seems to surprise her-- be it a loud sound or a sudden bump in the road. She smiles lovely closed-mouth smiles has been perfecting her tongue calisthenics routine (in - out - side - curl - again!). She continues to squeak ever so cutely, and we're thankful that the source is vocal and not, say, her elbows. Her cooing inventory includes close-lipped vowels, the "r" sound and an almost "b" sound. She loves doing baby yoga and hates getting into the car seat.

Juanito, meanwhile, is busy coordinating his lung capacity with his vocal range, focusing on the higher registers. In other words, he's something of a screamer. Lucky for us, he uses this skill only a lot (as opposed to always). He's got a killer smile (see previous post) and coos with sincerity. Juanito loves looking at himself in the mirror and hates being naked (unless it's while taking a bath-- or in front of a mirror). His an expert brow furrower, often giving him an air of pensiveness. He's a responder, opening his eyes and mouth in complete wonder when he hears a sudden noise.

Both kids are starting to hold on to things other than fingers, such as blanket edges, but neither holds on to (or even notices) toys yet. They track things with their eyes but are not yet turning to see what causes a given noise. Both are close to holding their heads steady, and both love to stretch out their limbs after a good night of sleep. And they're great sleepers, we're happy to report-- let's hope it stays that way.

Despite the good sleeping, waking up several times a night means that Papa Juan and I have become caretaker zombies-- filled with love and utterly void of rested thought. Thank god for the friends and family who visit often from near and far; each pair of hands helps exponentially both in terms of my sanity and baby happiness.

Hombrecito

There are moments when these little beings seem to know exactly what they want to do on this earth. They arrive inspired and need only collect the skills to act.
Juanito looks positively visionary here. When he's 80 years old and still being acknowledged for his good works, this is the photo they'll use when saying he was destined for great things.
In the meantime, he's destined for another diaper change and some 'tummy time' on the play mat, followed by a session in the swing set with the flying fish that he so loves to watch.