I can't believe I don't have babies anymore. And I don't miss it at all.

Meet Anya. She is no longer a baby. She is a little girl. She likes to scream, "My name is Anya and I like to dance!" She can get her own matching shoes from the shoe pile. She is two and is very complicated and sweet and knows how funny she is.

Meet Rachel. She, too, is far from babyhood. She likes to scream at ants, asking them, "What you doing, ants?" She loves to play ball and knows when her new shoes are too big. She is two and very determined and loves to kiss and hug, in that order.

"You are growing up," I tell Anya. "We no grow up, mama. Flowers grow up." she says, eyes all twinkle twinkle. She loves a joke and knows she has made one. "I'm in the clown, mama," she says.

We take the girls down to the Washington Monument and let them run and play soccer and walk all the way to the "waterfall" at the WWII Memorial. At one point, Anya tells me, "I tired. I lay down here." and stops and lays down on the sidewalk. This is so cute and sad. "We are in China!" Rachel tells us as we exit the Metro to a new place. I can't imagine what these little people will say next. I dig all of this.

I don't understand people who complain about their children. They are the most amazing people you will ever meet.