| OCR Text |
Show every morning as we left for school was mom standing in the doorway, waving goodbye with one hand and rubbing her stomach with the other. Most days we found her there when we returned, hours later. It was easy to imagine that she stood that way all day long, that while we were saying the pledge of allegiance or learning the multiplication tables, or while we ran and played at recess, she stood on the front porch of our small home moving her hands up and down, up and down. When we asked questions about the baby, mom sat us down and explained what it was going to be like having a new member of the family. It was going to be hard work, she said, because babies needed a lot of attention and they cried all the time and she needed all the help we could give. She said it was important that we be gentle with the baby and careful not to roughhouse around it. We asked what we were going to name the baby and if it would be a boy or a girl. Mom said we'd have to wait and see. That was the year mom and dad went the hospital and Aunt Val stayed with us. When mom and dad left, they took mom's orange and green hospital suitcase with them, the one that had been sitting in the closet for weeks. They said Aunt Val was going to be a lot of fun but that we had to promise to be extra good for her and help clean the kitchen and do all of our homework without being asked. Most importantly, they said, we were not to argue with Aunt Val about anything. We promised to do everything we were supposed to do and hugged and kissed them both goodbye. When we said we were excited and couldn't wait to see the new baby, dad smiled and said he was excited too, but mom turned and walked down the porch steps and didn't look back at us or say anything. We watched them all the way to the car, but even then, as dad was backing out, mom didn't |
