in this house there are children i don't know
i spend endless afternoons
between half-unpacked bags of groceries
and paused bluey episodes
mastering you
studying and squeezing and memorizing you
and then you wake up
new
who?
you mick
you graduated from the swaddle, you want your arms free
you graduated from the swaddle, you want your arms free
quietly left newbornhood, rolled over, smiled at me, not sorry for getting big
my brilliant bubble of a boy, a rainbow, a sudsy mouth with a bursty laugh
but i'll keep putting you to bed in here by me
and you lucy
you draw peace signs on everything, sign every picture "L.S.S."
you never run, always totter
a mysterious blonde wisp, accessorized like phoebe from friends
can you teach me to sew mama? can i do gymnastics class mama?
but you know fairies are real
and you eleanor
eleanor PI, open for business
interested, interesting
bollypop, bossypants
the latest career consideration: public defender, what could be better for you?
getting the hang of the layers beneath a wink
but you still want to hold hands on the couch
and you charlie
grandmom taught you the word "relentless"
you stand your ground like the family prizefighter
"wow mom you look beautifuller than ever in that shirt!"
batting left, fielding right
a speckle of freckles
but your cheeks and lips are still puffy with pre-covid baby fat
three and a half years in this house
hiding, seeking, sleeping, fighting, righting, calming,
bathing, losing, finding, wondering, thundering, stumbling,
sailing, praying, staying
children
forever
in this house