Norah and Avery, both at 3 months.
Avery stumbles up and down the hall. She grunts and coos and says words only we understand. Her short, straight bob curves around her ears. She says, "poop" and " 'tinky" when she needs a diaper change.
Norah says big words like "scrumptious" and "unbelievable." She asks, "how was your day?" Her curls hang low over her shoulders. She reaches kitchen counters and can climb onto the toilet all by herself.
Love every moment.
Wrinkly skin, toothless yawns, and scrawny limbs. Rocking, suckling, swaddling, sleeping. Leaning tower steps and swooped up falls. Songs sung, new words, bedtime stories and stickers after the potty. Every stage moves faster than the last: faces and bodies changing and growing.
I want to remember them just as they are: little buddha bellies, cheerio breath kisses, pearly teeth and toes, clumsy circles around my feet, hands reached high, "up! up! up!" With every new moment, they are new. I feel pain and joy, regret and longing, fear and hope, nostalgia and wonder.