Thursday, September 21, 2006

Hand, Finger, Thumb


I love watching Ezra use his hands. I love the dimples cross the back of his hand like braille. I love the pudges between his knuckles. Mostly, I love the way he uses and studies them. I love watching him slowly turn his hands this way and that as he holds rattles and books to look at them. I love how soft and smooth they are, unweathered. When Ezra was first born, Dave was surprised at how wrinkled his hands were and how his life line and heart line were already all laid out. In some ways it makes me wish I were a palmist but in others I am happy not to have foreknowledge of his life.




When he's falling asleep or nursing, he always seems to want to stroke or hold things. His favourite thing is our fingers or thumbs. And he has a very tight grip so once he falls asleep it can be hard to extricate yourself from his grasp. In his sleep, he will usually keep grabbing until he finds something to hold onto. Sometimes it's a blanket or a shirt (his or mine), sometimes his other hand (and that is just the cutest thing to behold). Lately, when we're lying bed, he's taken to grabbing my nose and lips. This is not as enjoyable. Other times he will brush his fingers back and forth over something, usually a face, neck or chest, kind of like he's strumming a guitar. Sometimes he does it softly, like a caress, other times more like a scratch. This is not so nice because his fingernails are sharp, no matter how frequently I trim them. He even does this on his own head sometimes and just the other day he started slapping the side of his head when he was tired.


He's always done funny things with his hands in his sleep, as shown in these early photos.



Most frequently, he'll splay his hand out if we disturb him somehow, like he's saying a bit grumpily, "Talk to the hand, folks. I'm sleeping."

When he was born, his hands were bony with very long fingers, and his pinky bent in towards his other fingers at the top knuckle. He seems to have grown out of that bend. I love that his hands quickly filled out and are big and pudgy now.

I can't get enough of watching his hands. I'm so mesmerized that I think I want to get a professional photographer to capture the magic of his little hands, especially when they're holding my big, freckled ones, before the magic goes away. Is that a fetish?


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