Monday, 4 May 2015


"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2015."

Roan:  Over three moths old already, and I savor every lingering newborn trait and habit--the sleepy morning stretch with arched back, the eager nursing growls, the tearless cries--as well as the new ones--holding his feet up in the air, reaching oh-so-subtely for his hanging toy, the profuse grins and gurgles.  All too soon the former will disappear.  He watches me intently, rotating his head and tracking his eyes, as I move around the room in the morning.

Afon:  He's been pushing every button he can find these past days and driving me to limits of patience I didn't think was humanly possible.  A May Day trip to the grotto is an ordeal to rival a pilgrimage!

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