I finally ordered prints of kid photos that have been collecting in my hard drive since last fall. It amazes me that I seem to have less time now that my kids are three than I did when they were infants. The talk and the questions are hugely entertaining, and yet draining in a different way than simple feeding and care of babies can be. I do think it gets better and better though.

My daughter has a pair of plastic high heels she loves to wear, click-clacking around our home; she defies everything I thought about in the nineties when I really believed high heels would vanish from fashion forever.

My son, on the other hand, is at this very moment wearing a superman cape my Mom made for my brother in the seventies. He wears it for at least an hour a day. And I am pretty certain he has never seen a superhero cartoon, so it astonished me the first time he put it on and pretended to fly. Is it possible that cellular memory really does collect data from generation to generation?