watch me, mama!

the language is coming quickly now.  every day and more and more pours out.  we drink thirstily from her phrases and word choice.  with each new pronunciation we are handed another crumb about his little girl who landed in our laps only months ago.   we all, even the other children, are wild with our craving.  we desire more from our sister.  our girl.  it is fascinating and fabulous and unbelievably funny to see the language stream out of her.  we stand there with mouths open and hands ready.  we cannot catch it all quickly enough.  so we share with each other.  "did you hear her say...can you believe she said...this morning she told me...at bedtime i heard her..."  just the other night one of the children ran in from the yard to announce a Whole New Phrase.  at this late hour, i can't remember the phrase (how sad). actually,  i can't even remember which child (sadder, still)...but i can recall the delight and the exuberance of the re-telling.  perhaps it is because we are all playing on the same team.  team bella. okay, this sounds perhaps a little too child-centered.  we are really team mcnatt.  we are doing our best to keep all this in perspective. still, we are a team which desires to see our baby sister make giant strides at her new life.  we are a team which cheers her on through the bases of discovery and exploration and achievement.  we are a team which plans to carry her victoriously across home plate or carry her tenderly off the field.  we are a team which is rooting.  always rooting. we root for each other.  will the game get old?  will the team lose interest?  do i dare even hope we will ever grow less rowdy?  i am not sure.  i doubt it.  when we signed up for adoption we signed up for a crash course in cheerleading.  it has been good for us.  for all of us.  i mean we've always been a family which has attempted to stick together...attempted to cheer one another on...attempted to at least play fair.  but in our adoption of bella all of this has stepped up to another level.  we are in the big league now.  we are in the game as we've never before been in the game.  we are not all that worried about winning or losing...i assure you, we have already won.

in the past few weeks there isn't a one of us who hasn't heard at least one-hundered times: "watch me."  she says it often.  she says it loudly.  she says it knowingly.  we will watch.  we cannot help ourselves.  


watch me, mama!
         tiny girl twirls in time-stopped afternoon dust
              particles and sunlight
                   spilling recklessly through smudged windows.
my eyes perfectly clear.

watch me, mama!
         dramatic sweep across paper heavy with whiteness
               blue crayon clutched in sweaty, small hand
                       wax-melting mark. she says, i am here.
and she is.  here.

watch me, mama!
         delicate finger dips deliciously into cool water.
             cautious. daring. deliberate.  so still.
                an audience at this fingertip. a ripple whispering across the smooth.
glancing across my mother skin.

watch me, mama!
      her head skimming the bathtub surface
          down into bubbles. attention held. breath held tighter.
             eyes still open. dark and round in the irridescent shimmer of froth.
our eyes reflect each other's light.

watch me, mama!
               song softly eases out with gentle breath.  something sweet.
                         skipping lightly over words.  her voice settles on a few.
                                       her music is heard. plainly.
and i cannot help but listen.

watch me, mama!
         toes touch upon rain-soaked grass.
            tripping over blades.  tender and tough.
                 wiggling in fresh wetness newly discovered.
so very much alive. alive.

watch me, mama!
           and i watch
                    and i watch
                                and i watch
i will always watch.
.