Thursday, February 18, 2010

Handled with Love

I am fascinated by my children's hands. I love watching their fingers manipulate things, grasping and reaching and functioning without too much thought.

I love the dimples they have instead of knuckles. OK, Milo's are starting to look like kid hands and not preschooler or toddler hands, and they are long past baby hands. But I love the pad of fat on the backs of their hands, the extra softness that gives their small bones substance. Both of my kids have pale, pale skin. Pale and pink. Their fingertips are pink, pink fingerprints, pink fingernails.

Milo's palms are like Scott's: broad and sturdy, meant for a lifetime of power tools and implements. His fingers are more like mine: long and tapered, not thick and rounded like his daddy's. The combination of Scott's large palms and my long fingers has given my man-cub BIG paws. So big that I don't foresee him playing a delicate mandolin, but instead a resonant upright bass. His hands fly over a computer keyboard, write his name, and build the most amazing sculptures.

Violet's hands are so graceful. It's hard to think of a two-year-old with graceful hands, but hers have always been that way. They float and flutter above what she's doing, always gently brushing her surroundings. They move precisely -- even as an infant her baby signs were completely accurate, her fingers drawn in perfectly, like two gently kissing flower buds for the sign "more." She patiently uses them to pry apart Legos, to guide markers and crayons, and to shove her wild hair from her face.

I don't know why their hands hold such mystical power over me, but from the moment an infant Milo first reached for my face, their little hands have held my heart; their fingers have left smudges on my soul.

10 comments:

Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip said...

Fat pads on hands and wrists!! Gotta love them. Your posts are so awesome and fun to read. I am loving your bloggy!

parenting ad absurdum said...

Beautiful post - it's breaking my hear that my four-year old has lost all his baby chunkiness - he's all lean and mean BOY now.

Thanks for your kind note on MBC - Looking forward to following you!

Peryl

parenting ad absurdum said...

Btw - does anybody but me have trouble with copying the letters in the "word verification" on most blogs? I usually have to have at least two tries... a little slow, I guess :).

Peryl

IASoupMama said...

Thank you *blushing*

Sorry about the word verification...

Patrish said...

what a sweet little post. Your writing makes me smile.....Keep it up!

parenting ad absurdum said...

Oh, it's not you, it's me :). Apparently I have no depth perception.

Rhonda (a.k.a. The Restless Squaw) said...

Oh, I love their patties. The dimpled stage is so sweet. The really wonderful thing that happens when their hands get bigger, though, is that they can help out. A lot. In fact, the 20-year-old and 16-year-old hands at my house help change diapers on their little brother. Now I have 6 hands, including the 11-year-old's paws, that wash and dry dishes. They fold and put away clothes. They sweep and mop the floor. They clean bathrooms, straighten up, shovel snow, and mow the yard.

For free! If you can call feeding these bottomless pits 'free,' anyway.

That day will come for you.

IASoupMama said...

And here I thought Milo WAS helping me... in the way that a 4-year-old can "help" you get things done. You know, so you have to do them at least twice... I don't want the days of many helping hands to come too quickly :)

Erin said...

I loved reading this. My Abby's hands are very dainty and small (unlike her mother's). Her thumbkin is pudgy and calloused from being in her mouth all the time. Izzy's hands are larger, more like mine. I'm worried she'll end up with my man hands.
;-)

Theta Mom said...

Sweet post!!!