Saskia: I place a stack of books on your bed for 'quiet time' and you grab the first one from the pile. Oh my Lord, you exclaim. Just as I imagine she would say it. I fear you might share some traits with that little girl from the Plaza.
Félix: Finding a comfortable place to kick back. Lying on Daddy's tummy and stroking his neck. He was sick and you had just cut your second tooth in a week. My poor boys.
A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, as a two year old.
A portrait of my son, once a week, every week, from birth.