Krissy carries Unni in a body sling,
a joey in a pouch. At three months she’s still nursing.

Between feedings, Unni sleeps or sits
comfortably under the canopy of her stroller.

Her eyes shine like Vermeer’s Girl with the Pearl Earring,
Blue bandanna, translucent skin,
she turns to listen with a wide eyed look
not really knowing what to expect.

beaming you in with an impish grin,
until you’re in up close, nose to nose,
to where she sees your face
as big as Mt. Rushmore
to become acquainted
cozy as campers in a tent.

Krissy nurses every 3 or 4 hours.
No one knows how she does it all
or where she finds the strength
Fiercely protective, She is
a she-bear caring for her young.

Around the house there are post-it-notes everywhere
reminding herself to be patient and understanding
about Ida’s potty training.

Neutral linguistic programming,
Ida reads, “P is for potty” as often as she can.
— has it almost memorized.

She is her mother’s daughter;
knows once she learns
the story by heart
her body will naturally follow.