here we go again.

i walked through the kid’s bedroom last night, the typical last minute picking up of blankets and toys, putting away folded socks, removing feet perilously close to being shoved between slats, lifting blankets off faces. with the maximum of touching and smoothing and wiping and holding. in the silence urging them through my touch to know of my love.

they are so big in their cots. so very very big. when we brought them home, all three tightly swaddled tots shared one cot, with plenty of room to spare. and when they moved to individual cots, they would get lost in them. i don’t want another baby, i am so relieved they are growing and thriving, but i don’t want to lose my babies. and i have. crack goes my heart.

little lulu, such a lanky girl. the weather is turning cold, and i bought the girls pink tights for the playground. i finish my interview, and head down to the playground. and i see carys, frisking about, tights bagging at the knees, floppy at the toes, huge concentration on her face as she pulls at a plant leaf. and i stand in front of her and finally she looks up, sees me and starts running. gawky little legs, happy smile, hoarse cry. and then i hold her for 20 minutes, her arms clasping me tightly, the beloved playground for right now, a distant second to being held by mummy. crack.

sela loves being read to. she approaches me with a book and facing me, will hand the book over. and then, with a series of little steps, she moves 180 degrees, turns her head to make eye contact, then drops into my lap. uk pees! she instructs, placing one hand on each of my wrists. and i begin reading. we can maybe read it once before the others arrive and she has to relinquish the lap, but i know that she loves these times together, that having the lap, MY lap, is an essential part of the reading. crack.

crack is the sound when jasper is lying with me on my bed in a patch of sunlight. i am singing "Head and shoulders knees and toes" and repeating the bit about eyes, ears mouth and nose, touching his features, and mine. jasper reaches up, pulls my finger from my nose, and puts it to his mouth, covering it wth his own hand. and then blows me a kiss. smiles. crack.

two new cracks courtesy of sebastian:                                                                                 

crack when he comes to me with a fresh boo-boo, still believing that my kiss can make it better.

and the long clear crack on the playground when he is talking to another little boy about a broken toy. my mummy can fix it. sebastian declares. my mummy can do anyfing.

oh but i can’t, i can’t slow time down, i don’t want to slow time down, but i don’t want to forget these precious times.

the baby smell is fading from the back of their necks. crack. how much more can my heart grow?