Shhh. Gertrude’s asleep and Matilda is upstairs building a fort in her room. Mom is in the shower. I’m alone! It’s just me for three blissful minutes until Matilda comes downstairs or Gertrude discovers that’s she’s lost consciousness.

There are many things you discover when your kids multiply. One thing is the moment of solitude that you used to take for granted. These days, I think we all feel we’re always on top of each other. Matilda and I are actually fighting over the television, which is funny because we never used to watch TV.

But when you place a baby in the equation, everything changes. Even if my wife has the baby, I feel like I shouldn’t be more than a floor away, in case she needs to be relieved of duty. So, when everyone is content and happy, it’s an odd feeling now. So, I’m sitting here with an unconscious infant on the floor, and two uninterested people elsewhere.

I have a few minutes! So . . . what do I do with those few minutes? I talk about the people from whom I’ve escaped. It’s a disease. I’m obsessed with them. It’s a good thing they’re my family, otherwise the restraining order would be difficult.

This week Matilda and Gertrude were in a photo shoot for an ad brochure for a textbook. The theme was “Big Things Come in Little Packages.” So, they put the girls in boxes. Poor Gertrude, being so small, had to be propped up in the box. She did really well, though, until the flashing lights pissed her off. Matilda, on the other hand, acted as though she was born to be in front of the camera. Flipping her hair this way and that. Smiling, posing.

She doesn’t realize that Gertrude has an advantage on her in the modeling biz. Gertrude has the whole eat, barf, eat, barf cycle down pat. Matilda would have to pick that up again. The learning curve may be too great.

That’s okay. I don’t want Matilda to be a model. She’s going to be a singer/songwriter/teacher/scientist/dancer. It’s her chosen career and I, for one, support it fully. I feel there aren’t enough multi-tasking professionals with post-graduate degrees and an artistic side. Besides, she can teach everyone about the cure for cancer she discovered by writing a musical in which she stars. Beat that Jonas Salk!

There have been some major discoveries in the house in recent memory.

First, Matilda has discovered comedy somehow. I suppose it’s some sort of a defense mechanism to counter the inherent cuteness of a squishy baby. Still, the kid’s talent for performance and comedic timing is amazing. I’m considering changing her name to Shecky. What amazes me about Matilda is the fact that she’s still resisting the influence of her friends. They all love the teenage crud that’s floating around on the radio. I understand this. At her age my favorite song was “Lovin’ Touchin’ and Squeezin’” by Journey (though at that age I would also cite “City of the Angels” as that bled into “LT&S”, for those in the know). All of her friends love Brittany, ‘Nsync and BSB (see? I’m hip.) Matilda, however, has no time for such trivialities. I think she enjoys the more eclectic music we have playing in the house constantly. When our friend comes over, there’s European Pop playing. When I’m in charge it’s either Power Pop or sixties pop. She’d prefer that. Oddly, right now I think she likes Calypso over all other music. She’s so cool.

Gertrude has discovered sight. Granted, we can’t quite figure out what she’s looking at. But it’s clear in her face that she is looking at something but it’s not clear what. Still, there is a look of curiosity on the little face. Or is it more stunned wonder? “What the hell is that thing? AAAHHHHHH!”

Here’s the one thing I don’t understand yet. Whenever Gertrude is awake and looking at me she stares at me with a look of suspicion. I feel the need to apologize for being her dad. It’s as if she’s fully aware of all the weird things she’ll be doing over the next few years, before she can say no. Granted, most kids don’t memorize Pet Sounds by the age of two, but I feel that doing so will give her a good grounding in the traditional pop sensibility. Right?

Sigh. Maybe my friend is right. Gertrude has absolutely no chance of growing up normal. But, that’s a good thing, right? Who wants a normal child? Not me. I think I was able to get a pretty good model, though.

I still wish she could fly.