You can never make them stay in one place.

Written on December 26th, 2011 about the latest addition to the pack, my new cub, Oaklee Claire Henry. I first got to meet her December 22nd when I flew home to spend Christmas with my family:

I held you today sweeter than i've ever held anyone.

Your tiny, heavy-breathing yet calm body up against my chest and teeny, velvet head in my hand while I rested my lips just soft against the other side so you felt warm and secure. I stood in front of the mirror and let you watch me sway you back and forth, back and forth, very slow, in hopes you'd not forget me when I go back home in 9 short days. I watch your big brown eyes as I smile at you and kiss your head and I don't know how but eventually I lose focus. I start examining the frown lines on my face and how slouchy my body looks when I hold you and how unbecoming I suddenly feel. I walk away from the mirror and pay no attention to anything now but all your tiny features. I can't believe how small your fingers are. You have some dinner residue underneath your ear but i'll get it later because I can't afford to move even your tiniest muscle, you're completely content in my arms. I almost don't believe i'll be able to love another child more than you 3 kids, but the day will come. I cannot help but tear up at the thought of raising and mothering and loving and teaching another itsy-bitsy creature like you. 

I had to eventually forfeit you over to your mother. I immediately went downstairs to the room I was staying in and quickly as I could, type out how content you made me feel. It was a moment I never wanted to give up to shortly become a memory. 

Like watching hundreds of flocks of birds overhead, it's majestic and moving, but you can never make them stay in one place.