- to hear the accompanying interview with six-year-old katie lu, click here
- for her full collection of blogs and recordings, become a patron at ginna's vino & the bean on Patreon
of the wee hours
aren't specifically
about myself
job, income, health insurance,
aging ungracefully especially around the jaw...
they are about her:
does she know to stay away from electrical outlets?
I should remind her today.
what about plastic bags?
she can never play with plastic bags.
and never ever put one on her head.
not even to be funny
not even if another kid does.
I will subtly weave that into conversation this morning.
Over oatmeal.
This most recent
waking wee hour
the worry was handwriting.
she's not getting enough handwriting practice.
small motor skills!
brain development!
young for her class!
falling behind
falling behind
falling
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
and I go in
to kiss her sweet cheek.
and then a little higher up
where her temple meets her hair.
sometimes I lift a little hand
heavy with sleep
and I place the cuppy palm
against my own ungracefully-aging cheek
I have this
I have you
I am me
much because
you are you.
When she was a baby
she would rest her little hands on me.
she was carried by me
much of the time,
at that time,
and her little hands
with little strength
rested on my shoulders
rested on my chest
and sometimes
just gently there on my cheek.
I got to loving this little paw
with no pressure to it
so much
that as she got older
and stood on her own,
I'd kneel before her and say
"put your hands on my cheeks?"
and she'd place
two toddler hands
over my
most self-conscious feature
and bless me.
she,
I was convinced,
who had so recently
been
in the company of angels.
When I was pregnant,
and far enough along
to recognize her movements,
I knew the difference
between a big thump
-a knee or the heel of her foot-
versus
the fish-fin flutter
of a hand.
They are getting stronger
now,
of course,
as five looks down the block at six.
But she is still young enough
that she must hold my hand
to cross the streets,
and young enough
that she still elects to hold it,
sometimes
even when we are not crossing.
when we are just passing
from one sidewalk square to the next.
Don't step on the cracks, Mommy!
Let's skip, Mommy!
Let's run, Mommy!
and her hand
no longer flutters
no longer rests
it grips,
holds on,
squeezes even
and
I
I
I just really like the lady I am
with your hand in mine,
little girl
yes, let's skip
let's run
y
l
f
let's
to hear the accompanying interview with six-year-old katie lu, click here
PREVIEW OF NEXT ENTRY:
lately, at night
citing nightmares
as the cause
of sleeplessness
for trouble sleeping
or trouble getting to sleep,
she delays at bedtime.
remembering
that I’d slept with a little plush pink and green bunny
for a week before we began sleep training
because I’d heard
that some babies
are comforted at night
with a sleep toy
that smells like mama,
I offered my six-year-old
a piece of my clothing
to hold onto in the night.
she liked the idea of mommy’s shirt going to bed with her
and she
really
took
her
time
… and
………..took
……………….her
……………………..time
sniffing out which one had the most mom scent
it’s been going on for a week now.
she reads a book with dad,
he says, “say goodnight to ya mama,”
we hug and kiss,
and she requests
a shirt
or sweater.
last night she said,
“let’s get to sniffin!!”
and she sniffed through
four or five shirts
before landing on
the ginnaest.
I heard her and her dad
discussing the matter.
he said,
“why don’t you want my shirt?”
and she told him
-in whatever way a six-year-old does,
politeness not necessarily prioritized -
that she preferred my smell.
he pushed back
but then she responded,
high-pitched,
putting the matter to bed (as it were):
“I just like mama’s smell best!
I don’t even like my own smell!”
and she
really
took
her
time
… and
………..took
……………….her
……………………..time
sniffing out which one had the most mom scent
what has eve been or ever will be more flattering
than someone craving my self-scented
T-shirt to comfort her to sleep?
it’s been going on for a week now.
she reads a book with dad,
he says, “say goodnight to ya mama,”
we hug and kiss,
and she requests
a shirt
or sweater.
last night she said,
“let’s get to sniffin!!”
and she sniffed through
four or five shirts
before landing on
the ginnaest.
I heard her and her dad
discussing the matter.
he said,
“why don’t you want my shirt?”
and she told him
-in whatever way a six-year-old does,
politeness not necessarily prioritized -
that she preferred my smell.
he pushed back
but then she responded,
high-pitched,
putting the matter to bed (as it were):
“I just like mama’s smell best!
I don’t even like my own smell!”
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