• Family Dynamics,  the Paradox,  This is Me

    Liminal Spaces

    Am I asleep? Or am I awake? The infant in my arms is almost six months old. He is both lithe and solid, a convergence of contradictions for a baby. Usually he writhes with wiry energy, just like his papa, but now it is close to nap time, and he is still. Binky firmly in his mouth–a new habit (the habits they come and go without warning)–he stares off into the distance, saucer-like brown eyes absorbing the cool energy of the blue room. Yes, his eyes are brown, the opposite of mine. Everything about my son is the opposite of me, from his worried brow line to his muscular limbs. Am…

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