A portrait of my babes once a week in 2015 (24 months)
(Photo by Lad and Lass)
There are two of you. Two halves of you too - the babies you were and the people you're becoming. Little girls. We're still connected, you and I, closely entwined as I nurse you and you hold my hair, as I kiss your smoochy lips, as I pop half your chewed strawberry into my mouth and kiss a graze or wipe away your tears with a finger tip. I also recognise myself and your papa in you, the expressions or tones you've learnt from me, or the curl of your papa's hair. And yet (and yet - such a small but potent word), you are so very much yourselves.
There's that little foot that we saw on the scan all those wonderous months ago, which both feel like yesterday and ages ago all at once. I mean these two facelets, I cannot cope..
ReplyDeletexxxx