There is a reason that they are called “grand” children. These babies are so much more perfect in every way than I remember their parents being at this age. Or at least, in those rare instances that they are being difficult, there is someone available to hand them off to. This weekend we had the rare pleasure of having the babies visit (from Oregon and Maryland) at the same time. The last time they were together, they were really too young to appreciate each other. That has all changed.
Alden (who is two months older, and two pounds lighter) is much more sophisticated. She is capable of carrying on conversations on the telephone.
And is training for the 2026 Olympics.
Ori prefers to remain on dry land, but, spurred on by cousinly competition, has agreed to train for the luge.
There was some sharing and some not sharing.
There were tasty treats, like cinnamon rolls.
And popsicles.
The adults had some odd ideas about what might be fun for the babies.
But generally the babies were good sports.
And, as grandparents, Dean and I just got to enjoy them. 
I could get used to this.
Bibliocyclist 