Nora is so soft. Today I held her hand while she cooed herself all the way to sleep. She an amazing baby.
It's not that I want my babies to stay babies forever -- God save us! -- but I wish I could catch and remember their babiness better. Here's Nora on the day of her baptism. It was 100 degrees outside and more in the church. After communion I took her out into one of the transcept doors. A black butterfly with blazing blue markings flew in and lighted on her forehead. After all she was pink as a flower in the heat. And after her anointing she smelled like holy Crisco, and her hair made people laugh aloud.
But was it that day or the next that she rolled over on her tummy -- one of the first times -- and then couldn't get back? She picked up her legs and butt in one curve of muscle, like the tail of a whale, and rocked on her tummy bellowing about how beached she was until I came to help her.
And here's Vivian, tonight, only two, asleep in a twin bed, sprawled with one leg crooked, all lean limbs and length. Talking in her sleep.
And you can't keep any of it.