Sometimes I want so much to provide everything for you that I could spontaneously lactate...
But instead I find that I am in such a constant state of anxiety about time that I could spontaneously combust. I need to change my life so that I don't feel as though I am rushing all the time. I need to learn to forget about dust and sticky floors, in favour of a few extra minutes with you. Otherwise it's very easy to spend a whole day with you without actually interacting much. Sometimes I catch myself all day long saying – in a minute, just a minute, I'll be right there, hold on, Mama will be right with you, and so on.
It's no good, I don't want to be like that. I want to have more time with you, properly with you. Not sure if that requires total change of life or if it just requires small adjustments in my quotidian habits. Some things I cannot change, like how long the bloody journey home is. That particular stress starts in the morning, cos if it takes me longer than expected to get in, then I can't leave when I normally do and I miss your evening routine. Can you tell I didn't pause for breath even typing that. It feels like a massive achievement when I have a day with time on my side, those are precious days indeed.
Even now as I do this, Pa Cooke is tinkering with dinner and I can sense his anticipation of me coming down so we can eat. He thinks I'm still putting you to bed, but you dropped off instantly after your day of climbing on and into things.
Ah, the call to arms has come while I upload the image. Well, the call to dinner, so I must go mid thought.
PS You snore.
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