This is one of the girls' favorite phrases these days. Can you
please give Elsa a turn with that toy now? Not yet. Are you all done with
your English muffin? Not yet. Are you ready to get off the potty now?
Not yet.
As the girls grow and change by leaps and bounds, it's amazing how
much more able they are to communicate their needs and wants, and it's
delightful to see them able to participate in an increasing number of
activities. This weekend while we were in Maine visiting my parents
(and giving my sister in law a baby shower -- my first nephew is on the
way!) it was fun to see them doing things that just a few months ago
they would not have been able to do: playing downstairs in the
basement playroom independently for a good fifteen minutes or so while
the grownups were upstairs -- without needing toy refereeing; riding
tricycles and actually starting to use the pedals;
making sardonic comments. (OK, this isn't exactly true. That is, I'm
not sure it was intended to be sardonic. But if it hadn't been spoken
by a two and and a half year old, it certainly would have come across
that way. Then again, it was Clio, who has a pretty good sense of
humor. I said: "Clio, how about we go upstairs and take a bath now."
She replied, "How about no.")

Clio played with my old childhood dollhouse for nearly half an hour, on her own. Amazing!
And yet, we still bump up against things that we realize -- often
after the fact -- they aren't quite ready for. The not yets. Like when,
while trying to keep them occupied for a little while when we were
getting dinner ready, and for lack of appropriate entertainment
choices, we put on the movie The Cat in the Hat -- the live-action one
with Mike Myers. It's a pretty trippy movie -- not to mention a trippy
book, that I never quite liked as a kid, as I've mentioned here before. But it
proved to be a bit too intense for the gals, especially Elsa, who
was a bit freaked out the whole time, but couldn't quite take her eyes
off it. It was like a technicolor car accident. Toward the end, when
the little girl character was getting sucked up into a tornado-like
thing and Elsa started saying "Oh no! Sally!" and then
actually screamed, I finally whisked her away. (But brought her back a
little later to show her that everyone was OK.)
They also weren't quite ready for the too-long day trip we took up
to the Common Ground Fair -- a country fair put on by the Maine Organic
Farmers Association. It was an hour and a half each way and, stupidly,
we forgot to bring their ga-gas, a.k.a. pacifiers, which we still let them have on long car trips. (You'd think after
this calamity we would have learned our lesson.) They were cranky and
exhausted the whole time, wanting to be picked up, wanting to go home,
wanting to eat but not particularly excited about the grilled cheese
sandwiches we got them, on super-dense, all-natural, gluten-free,
organic, grass-fed, free-range, fair trade, cruelty-free,
22-grain bread made by rehabilitated prisoners. (Kidding, of course.
But seriously, the bread tasted like shit.)
I think that in another year or two, a trip like this might
actually be do-able for them. But while we did have a few nice moments
-- Elsa enjoyed getting a ladybug painted on her hand (below); they
were fascinated by the giant merino sheep "getting his hair cut"; and
thought the old-fashioned farm equipment was pretty fun to play on
(below below); overall, I'd say it was a not yet. It was also, I think,
a case of something being a not yet because of the twin thing. One kid
might have been a bit more manageable. Having twins, I think, can at
times prolong the not yets by a few months.

They can be frustrating, the not yets. And they will always be
there. But there's a nice hopefulness to the phrase. Can we take the
girls on a longish day trip to a big and somewhat overwhelming event
like a fair? Not yet, but we will in a year or two. Have I found a
publisher for my novel? Not yet, but I still have hope. Have I figured
out the right balance of work and parenting and writing, all while
managing to keep my depression at bay? Not yet, not yet, not yet, but I
will.