Journal Excerpt

On a picture board near the nursery door we put up baby pictures of D and I, at the time because I thought it would be interesting to see who our baby looked like, though it’s now a mute point because she looks so much like D that he calls her his twin. There’s a picture of me looking fat and complacent with my hair sticking up while sitting up next to a series of obviously-posed stuffed animals, on a very 1980’s bedspread. There’s a picture of D standing up holding on to the edge of his playpen, a huge grin on his face.

I noticed she seemed really interested in the pictures, always craning her body and trying to crawl out of my arms in that direction. So I held her up to them today. She slowly extended her hand out, then started to wave it back and forth gently while staring at the pictures, as if to say hello, or goodbye. That’s mommy when she was your age, I told her. That one there’s daddy. She stopped waving, looked serious, then stretched out her hand and waved again.