I’m writing this with no purpose in mind. It’s just time to write; this I know. My breasts are sore and my body achy, an indication that I’m about to get my period. Today O and I were both in bad moods, something that hasn’t occurred since I can’t even remember. Lately we’d been so happy in our own little lala land, smitten and laughing over little things like leaves shaped like fish, the word “poop”, and dancing to bizarre chords on the ukelele . . .
. . . ten minutes later . . .
I’ve just come back from putting her down for bed. We read two books, two Mickey Mouse books I rushed through, unamused by the lack of story. She started crying because she wanted to read another book, but I said no- a word she’s beginning to wield like a sword. She was still crying as I carried her to the couch where I put her in her sleep sack. I began to sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and she immediately stopped crying. Holding her lovie to her nose, she quietly watched me as I turned on the sound machine and turned off the lights one by one. We sat in the dark, her head leaning against my shoulder, very still as I continued to sing. We prayed together about our up and down day and for the boy we met at the bus station who helped us go where we needed to, the boy who wanted his baby but his girlfriend decided to not have.
Before I put her down, I stood by the crib holding her and I said very softly, “I’m sorry for losing my patience with you today. Will you forgive me?” She nuzzled into me and felt very alive, different from just ten minutes ago. And I felt different too- forgiven and close to her again. The way it should always be.