You stick your tongue out
And put on a smile for the camera
But you whimpered at me most of the morning
Until I picked you up and carried you around the house
I put on a shirt one-handed
Transferring your weight from hip to hip
Forget about the sidewalk cracks
This is what ruins mothers’ backs
You chew on pancake at Julie’s Cafe
A big girl in a high chair who drops more than she eats
But you are so good, so calm, all smiles
In the car I put on your downy suit
Bundling you up for a walk
You hate that, but then fall asleep a minute down the block
Later I watch my parents
Pass you back and forth over the table
You laugh and laugh
Refreshed from your nap
But still somehow always rubbing your eyes
With Love,
Natalie