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Writings on Motherhood, Judaism, and Happily-Ever-Afters

Continuity

I watched my cousin Lea’s baby boy this weekend. Or rather, my Jessie watched baby Michael this weekend. The whole time, I kept thinking back to me at her age, watching Lea. There’s sixteen years between Lea and I, and it’s completely surreal to have the generations repeating themselves.

It’s oddly disconcerting – Jessie uses my phrases with babies. Which makes sense, but it’s still… just weird. She says “avec moi” when she wants them to follow her – and I’ve never seen anyone do that before. Except for me. I used to joke that the only French I retained from high school were phrases that went along with motherhood – with me, right now, and I’m so tired.

Then Julie fed him her ice cream cone in the car on the way back, and all I could remember was taking little Lea up to Erickson’s and getting two kiddie cones that we’d trade back and forth.

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