The Baby has been hoodwinked by Daylight Savings Time. Or rather, it has passed her by -- this week, she has crashed around 6, and demanded the breast, even if her solid food schedule disagrees, and is dead asleep before 7:30. It has given me a new lease on the night -- when I was only fully done with her around 9, it was early in the evening, yes, but late to start some new thing of one's own, especially when one has been babying since early morning. So pretty much: a beer, TV or reigning show, wait until Javier appears.
But 7:30? Surely you can get something done, then! This earlier turning in may not last, but so far, I have carved every night, and begun to think (the tiniest bit) beyond the finish of my picture book. Which was part of Javier's & my agreement -- I stay home the first year, I finish the current project as best I can -- and really, there are only the final two pages lacking final sketches now which is A.MAZ.ING. Marketing? Nope, not so much, and aside from some loyal, wonderful friends, audience growth for the blog seems a bit...slow****, but honestly, I have found this difficult to work into a regular schedule. Which all say is paramount for blog readership. In terms of taking it one day at a time, though, it has been absolutely lovely to write a few times this past week. I always feel better writing. If nothing else, it's a satisfying way of existing in the mind, with a little optimism thrown in -- this act, in and of itself, was worth it, in this day it was written. Return to daily existence, in the best possible way.
|from 2010, but a nice shot of the folks|
On that note, rustling in the nursery. Is it a portent? Will she awake, wailing and afraid of her shadow? Always the question: is it a glitch or a the start of a phase? In this modern age, babyhood still jettisons you back to reading signs and symbols. This means that; that means nothing; but that there? Means everything's okay.
*Oh my god, Morphine is such a cheat. You think: Oh thank god, the big guns! But no. Heavy curtains, and behind that, underneath it, the pain.
** wise enough not to say this at the time. In his defense: yes, hours and hours of not pushing. If one was not personally experiencing the pain, sure -- boredom.
***Oh my god, if you're pregnant, get a doula. For heaven's sake, get a doula. Have someone give this to you as a gift.
****Bahahaha, growth. As in: free time really grows once you have a child or freshly baked cookies grow on the free table in the office lunch room or office supplies grow plentiful in a workplace employing dissatisfied librarian types
-->I love librarian types. And I love useful, organizing items, like office supplies.
-->And not that I'm bitter. I have slacked, I slack, I may slack again. You get
what you give.
***** I think one shoddy excuse for a date said something like,"Wow, I didn't think you'd be able to eat all that. You must have a really good metabolism, haha!"