I was laying by Colette on our couch as she slept deeply. She had the stomach flu and so instead of her usual insatiable energy she was sleeping for hours in the middle of the day. I did what all crazy mothers do and I just stared at her. I watched her breathe in and out - the tiny motions of living. I stared at her nose, which is no longer a baby button nose and is now becoming a girl nose. I looked at her hands and I noticed some scratches she had that I hadn’t seen before, and I thought how odd it was that I didn’t know about these insignificant scrapes.
Right then, I caught a glimpse of Chapman and thought about how I know exactly what his hands look like right now. I stare at them all of the time. Plus, I am with him constantly and so hardly anything happens without my noticing. He is in essence, an extension of me.
Colette used to be too, but now she is other than me. She has scrapes that I don’t know about. She has experiences that are just hers. She doesn't cuddle and I never just watch her breathe. She moves like wildfire and I spend much of my time trying to contain her. She is this whole other person that is separate from me and it’s beautiful and absolutely heartbreaking.
I think I remember the last night I rocked Colette to sleep. She had passed that phase and it was unusual that she would fall asleep on me, but for some reason she was having a hard night and so she did. I remember feeling antsy, like I was ready to be done for the night and have some time for myself. I decided though, to just stay there, to hold her and watch her. I knew that one time when I rocked her to sleep it would be my last, so I just held her.
Colette has now recovered from her stomach flu and so today she ran around like a bull at a gate. She’ll go to school tomorrow and have a full day of experiences I’ll know very little about. She might scrape her hand. She will definitely yell in class.
Chapman cried when I put him down tonight. I picked him up and held him. I sat in the rocker and felt his body against mine. I didn’t rush to do my things. He’s part of me for now, I’m trying to be here for it.