My kids grow up.

My Sandis grows up. He has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his flared nose. He is strong, persistent, and athletic. He is the fastest, the most competitive, the most driven. He is the most of everything.

My Gracie gets older. Her patterned feet, her twisted legs, her fluttering eyelashes far atop pierced and dimpled cheeks. She is painted with pink, her cheeks so rosey as to seem artificial. She is conspiratorial, imaginative, and involved with scores of stories only narrated within her. She often holds a grudge yet despite this, wants desperately to be held, loved, and nuzzled. Gracie’s energy is bright, alive, and creative.

I love them both so differently. Her independence sets her apart, and I forget she needs my touch. His dependence evokes my protective sense, and I forget he needs to be apart.

So different, yet I am so very much in love with both.

Tonight Sandis plays a hockey game at the SCSU Huskies playoff hockey game, between the second and third period. He will be playing hockey in front of a stadium full of cheering fans, and he harbors excitement and no perceptible fear. He is a star, my star, and he wants so badly to be in front of crowds with all eyes upon him. Bob is taking Sandis to the game and they will be the Bob & Sandis duo that is so important for them to be.

Tonight Gracie will accompany me at a movie theatre. I will be undistracted by chores or other family members. I hope to pull her up warmly into my lap and push her hair back between my fingers, curls falling through the cracks. Gracie and I will be the mommy & Gracie duo that is so important for us to be.

I am lucky. God, how lucky I must be.