days 24, 25, 26. my heart, walking around in three places.

24, the small boy, the very small boy.

the bringer of light and laughter and loud bodily noises.

bringer of intestinal parasites and bring-outer of my most righteous mama-bear protective angst.

you make me feel like lenny i want to squeeze you so..... hard.....

you fit me perfectly.





25, the larger boy.

you, who is ever in the process of forcefully prying dogmatic conviction from the rock hard fist of my heart,

though i snap back sharply sometimes like a rubber band, holding my familiar shape-

you, ever attempting to replace belief with the agonizing fragility of trust.

we are intertangled- our roots bound in a complex, symbiotic, indivisible system.

tangled and tangling and scrapping through this incarnation, and it's pretty hilarious.

and sometimes infuriating-

but mostly unbelievably messy and perfect.






26, the girl, no longer small, not quite yet large;

you the most exacting of all teachers,

you who daily ask me to do the most basic, impossible, simple, unattainable task

in order to satisfy my most primal maternal drive.

That to give you the most basic nutrition you require-

I must perform the impossible feat, in as many ways as there are breaths in our bodies,

to tell you from the dark and scared parts of my heart-

"you are perfect."

and to believe it.

and to truly and deeply and honestly believe it,

to give you the world, to give you the world-

i have to look at myself and say the same.